"The pudgy gentleman from Georgia stood. “My wife and I will celebrate our thirtieth wedding anniversary come July. We’ve raised three beautiful children, whom we’ve raised in a tradition of strong family values. Sometimes I fear this tradition is distinctly southern, but I hold it dear. My wife holds it dear. And our kids hold it dear. I will be damned if I’m going to sit here and listen to some octopus tell me that I’ve got to fornicate to join some little club.” He sat down. The buxom intern standing behind gave his shoulder a little squeeze. Encouraged by the touch, he lifted an arm and roared, “I’ve got everything I need right here! Haven’t even been to Canada, so why should I need to go to space?!"
— From my short scifi piece National First Contact Day
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