"Space. The final frontier. Possessing the ability to recreate an exact likeness of an object or person – "

"No! Wait! Wait! That's not from Star Trek! That's from Captain Scarlet!" complained Gromit. He was in space, floating away from the satellite. He was wearing a space helmet, a class space uniform, with except of strange green trousers.

"Never mind that, Gromit!" the satellite controller argued back. "Just shut the hell up and tell me what it's like to be the first dog to try out those new NASA trousers in space."

"Well," began Gromit. "They're, eh – loose and, eh – falling down to Earth!" He was correct! The green trousers were falling down.

Then – GURGLE! Gromit's stomach rumbled and, for some reason, he began to balloon.

"Are you all right?" the satellite controller asked. "Are you feeling okay? What did you have for breakfast? I see a whole box of beer gone!"

"My – my liver's growing! And dying!" were Gromit's last words as he ended up like a dying and screaming star.

He continued to scream… in the living on 62 West Wallaby Street. On Earth. "Phew!" sighed Gromit, wiping his head. "I'm glad Nick Park didn't put that scene in his version."

Then the room echoed with the breakfast signal, causing Gromit to fall back and fall off his chair. "I wish he didn't put this in his vision, too," muttered Gromit. "This beeping machine is as bad as that Volcano movie with Tommy Lee Jones!"

Upstairs in his bedroom, lazy old Wallace in his vest and polka underpants was in his bed, pushing the 'Breakfast' button on the service machine.

"Come on, Gromit!" he called to downstairs. "It's my turn for breakfast. I want an omelette with waffles and… Whoa! Not that way!"

But too late. His bed leaned over and Wallace fell straight through.

Gromit had just pulled the lever down and went to get through the mail. He opened one birthday card and read it. It was a birthday card and played Celebration good times by Kool and the Gang.

Wallace landed on his chair, groaning. "Why didn't I become a stuntman? My arse has fallen for this chair hundred times. And I've ripped nine of my trousers every week."

Then he reached out as two white selves covered his arms. Then he reached up and the dresser robot threw his tank over his head, but it got jammed halfway down the stomach. The robot struggled to help and left annoyed.

"Hey, robot, I need help!" cried Wallace.

"Then the only help I can suggest, sir – is you exercise and do stuff yourself!" shouted the robot and left.

Then Gromit pressed the red button on the table and a spoon flicked jam from the pot and flew. Wallace nearly got his tank top down, when the jam shot in his face causing the tank top right back to his head. Five seconds later, the toast shot out of the toaster and landed on the plate.

Gromit couldn't help chuckling.

"What are you laughing at?" asked an angry Wallace.

"I believe it's April's Fool Day," lied Gromit.

"No, it's not," argued Wallace. "It's February 12th. And that means – "

Gromit looked hopeful, wagging his tail.

"I'd better check the mail, so if you could just chuck them to me," finished Wallace.

"Oh," sighed Gromit sadly, as he gave Wallace the post.

Wallace took the post, opened the first one and read it. "Oh, my good god!" cried Wallace. "They're all bloody bills! And your presents didn't help mu – Oh, shit!" cried Wallace again, realizing his stupid mistake.

Unfortunately, Gromit looked up from his paper and Wallace knew he heard that.

"Well, Gromit, it's about 9:05 and do you know what that means?"

Of course Gromit knew that. He's up before 9:05 on any day! He knew the Virgin train would come by. But today it had something he had never seen before. A present wrapped up. Wallace picked it up.

"Happy Birthday, chuck!" cheered Wallace happily. "I wonder what this is could be?"

Gromit happily took the present and unwrapped it. But then his happy mood was turned 360 degrees around. "What the hell are you doing to me?" asked a shocked Gromit, when he received a read lead and a collar with spikes. "I'm not a bulldog."

Wallace was listening and went to put it around Gromit's neck. "Now, you look like one. And that's just the first thing. Come and look in the hall." And Gromit followed.

Gromit went to the hall. He couldn't see Wallace but he wasn't alone. There was something coming into the hall. Gromit was too scared to move and all he could do was lift his arm up and hold it. With his eyes closed, of course. "Strong with the Force I am," whispered Gromit. "If Yoda tells anyone, believe in the Force or you will fail."

He bravely opened his eyes and saw a strange pair of legs. Gromit felt proud of himself. "The Force is with me!"

Then Wallace came in, laughing his head. "You are not one with the Force and be grateful you've not destroyed your best birthday present of the year or our lifestyle."

"Lindsay Lohan's legs?"

"No!" chuckled Wallace, tearing the paper off. "Here you are – NASA's ex techno trousers! Perfect for walking… in the Lake District."

Gromit didn't look impressed. In fact, he went so white he could be mistaken for snow dog. It was the trousers from his nightmare. But Wallace couldn't notice, not even if he polished his glasses so he tied Gromit's lead to from the techno trousers to his new collar. Then he programmed the walk to the city for two hours. And soon Gromit felt like getting dragged by a policeman from Eastenders.

"Have a nice walk, Gromit," Wallace said.

"I doubt I'll have that," groaned Gromit.

Gromit was glad to be out of those trousers and on Infusion, the giant roller coaster in Blackpool. As he climbed up, he saw the techno trousers, wearing red trunks, walking on the beach nearby. On each side of them, they had two sexy young women – one ginger hair woman wearing a green swimsuit and one black woman wearing a white bikini.

Gromit was glad they were occupied as he screamed and threw up as he fell down the track.

"Lancashire's Bills Paying and Saving Direct! Lancashire's Bills Paying and Saving Direct! Lancashire's Bills Paying and Saving Direct! Hi, I'm Al Harrington of Al Harrington's Lancashire's Bills Paying and Saving Direct! Due to increases taxes and a poor prime minister, bills are getting harder to pay and I am trying to help you!"

Well, that TV commercial didn't help Wallace's ideas to pay his bills.

"Oh, dear," he sighed. "It's no use prevaricating about the bush. Even this statue of George Bush." He had a statue of Former President George Bush.

Then a knock on the door led him to the door and opened it. It was a man and his strange looking ginger-hair groovy son.

"Hello, sir," greeted the man. "CIA Agent Stan Smith." His "son" coughed. "And this is my son, Roger."
"Yeah, baby," said Roger. "I hear you're short on cash so we're trying to help to be a member in our charity corporation – Rock Money for Brainless Morons!"

"No, thanks," said Wallace, getting out the statue. "May I interest you in this George Bush statue?"

"Delightful! I'll give you… $20,000 for it," offered Stan, giving the money and taking the statue.

Wallace knew that wouldn't help and got out another statue. "For British money, would anyone of you be interested in this Gordon Brown statue?"

Later, the trousers returned with Gromit, sitting on a trolley. He was so focused on seeing Wallace put a "Room to Lent, all year around though", that he was dragged into the house off the trolley. He was glad to be on a sofa and spend quiet time knitting.

"Nice walks? How were the techno trousers?" asked Wallace.

"Whatever!" muttered an annoyed Gromit.

Then the door bell answered. Wallace got up and went to answer it.

"Wow, it's for the room," Gromit heard Wallace shout cheerfully. "And only ten minutes in. That's awesome! Come in and see for yourself."

Gromit saw Wallace headed up the stairs and following him was -