It’s 1963.

You’re an astronaut with a bad attitude. You think rules are made to broken. You color outside the lines. You have way too much sex and drink too damn much.

But nobody can deny that you’re the best damn pilot NASA has ever had.

You’ve been suspended for insubordination (what else is new?). You blow off steam at a local bar. Flirt with the wrong guy’s girl. Melee ensues. You hold your own against an entire biker gang. Just before a bottle is smashed over the back of you head, a secret service agent unloads a few rounds into the roof.

The secret service drags you to a top-secret hangar where the nation’s top scientists unveil a state-of-the-art spaceship. Apparently, it was built after the Cuban Missile Crisis to find an alternate home for Americans…

There’s just one problem: Nobody is skilled enough to fly it.

J F-ing K

You’re not interested. You turn them down. You don’t play well with others. You are not a hero!!

But then you hear his voice…

Your country needs you, dammit!

It’s President Kennedy. J F-ing K himself.

Kindred spirit. Fellow playboy. He gets you. You get him.

For America, you strap the fuck in. You take off. Hit turbulence. Handle it. It becomes clear to everyone at NASA that you’ve got the touch…

But your mission is derailed when you are caught in a wormhole. Somehow, you end up back on Earth circa 2018. You are amazed at how much the world has changed.

Then you see this perfectly cropped photo of Meghan McCain:

Then you see this picture of Libertarian Girl:

Under these unique circumstances, you might reasonably conclude that Meghan McCain is as hot– or hotter– than Libertarian Girl.