Hey there, Earthlings! Don Nicholas here, reporting live from the comfort of my home, where the closest I get to space is when I accidentally spill tomato sauce on my favorite shirt. But today, let’s talk about tomatoes in space–because apparently, they’re a hot commodity on the International Space Station (ISS).

Now, like any self-respecting adult who once dreamt of becoming an astronaut (before realizing I’m more of a ‘watch space documentaries in my pajamas’ kind of guy), I couldn’t help but be engrossed in the saga of the lost-and-found tomato in space.

So, there’s this astronaut, Frank Rubio, who, after spending over a year on the ISS, managed to grow one of the first tomatoes in space. Bravo, Frank! But then, in a plot twist that could rival a Hollywood blockbuster, he misplaced it. Cue dramatic gasps and suspenseful music.

“I was pretty confident that I Velcroed it where I was supposed to Velcro it … and then I came back, and it was gone,” Rubio confessed during an October media event. Imagine Velcroing your lunch to your chest only to discover it’s doing zero-G acrobatics somewhere near the airlock.

Now, let me tell you, finding a rogue tomato in microgravity is no easy feat. Rubio spent what felt like an eternity (or at least 18 to 20 hours of his free time) searching for that elusive tomato. And can we talk about the rumors? People were out here thinking he ate it! The audacity. “Unfortunately–because that’s just human nature–a lot of people are like, ‘He probably ate the tomato,'” Rubio said. “And I wanted to find it mostly so I could prove like I did not eat the tomato.” Classic mix-up, right?

Fast-forward to Rubio’s return to Earth on September 27. The tomato was still MIA. But fear not, dear readers, because the heroes aboard the ISS didn’t give up the hunt. They held a press conference, not to discuss some groundbreaking space discovery, but to reveal the whereabouts of the lost tomato. Drumroll, please …

“We found it!” declared the seven-person crew. Rubio, who’d been blamed for the tomato-napping, was finally exonerated. Let’s just take a moment to appreciate the sheer absurdity of a tomato being the star of an international news conference. Move over, spacewalks–the tomato has arrived!

Alas, the crew didn’t spill the space beans on where exactly the tomato had been hiding or what state it was in. Rubio had a theory, though: “Due to the humidity at the space station, it probably desiccated to the point where you couldn’t tell what it was.” So, mystery solved, case closed–the tomato has reached its final frontier.

In the grand scheme of things, Rubio’s return to Earth was historic, breaking records for the longest stay in microgravity by a U.S. astronaut. I mean, he was initially planning for a six-month space mission, but life happens, and so do coolant leaks. Talk about a mission extension!

So, there you have it–the tomato caper of the century. A tale of a tomato’s journey from the ISS to a space-station nook and cranny, and back to the spotlight. Who said space exploration couldn’t be ripe with drama and suspense? Until next time, this is Don Nicholas, signing off and contemplating the cosmic significance of a floating tomato. ❖