A couple of weeks ago a small meteorite crashed the roof of a doctors' office in Lorton, Virginia. Though the building was occupied, no one was hurt, but several people no doubt had to change their shorts afterwards. Feeling magnanimous, the doctors decided to donate the space rock to the Smithsonian Institution.
Not so fast, said the building's landlord. It's their building, so the meteorite is theirs as well.
But has anyone bothered to think of the poor meteorite? The little fellow has been around since a cloud of interstellar dust first coalesced 4.5 billion years ago. Shunned by all the other asteroids who got together to form the various planet, this little guy stayed by himself. He probably watched in fascination as the first single cell lifeforms formed in the primordial ooze of Earth. No doubt marveled as those same cells combined, grew, evolved, and eventually crawled onto land. Probably cried when his much bigger brother smashed into that same Earth and wiped out the dinosaurs. Watched in awe as man began venturing from his home world. Finally, tired of being a bystander for all these eons, he decides to visit Earth in person and introduce himself. And what happens? He ends up as exhibit A on a freakin' courtroom table.
What a pisser of an ending.