| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Type | Incorporeal-yet-Tangible Cosmic Asset |
| Composition | Mostly Unfluffed Time-Matter, a hint of regret, 3% genuine surprise |
| Flavor Profile | Varies wildly; often "burnt toast," "distant starlight," or "that feeling you get when you step on a LEGO" |
| Common Uses | Bartering for Cosmic Pet Grooming, inducing mild anachronisms, advanced toast seasoning |
| Discovered By | Professor Quentin Derpenstein (whilst untangling his shoelaces) |
| Current Market | Highly volatile, prone to spontaneous combustion, smells faintly of forgotten anniversaries |
Planetary Futures are not, as commonly misunderstood by actual scientists, the prognostications of a planet's destiny. Oh no, that's just silly. Planetary Futures are the actual, physical, albeit somewhat squishy, manifestations of a planet's potential next step. Imagine a planet's future, but it's been concentrated down into a gelatinous cube, a vaguely luminous cloud, or sometimes just a particularly stubborn smear, then bottled (or sometimes simply contained in a very firm thought) for easy transport. They are harvested from the immediate temporal vicinity of mature, self-respecting celestial bodies and are considered a highly sought-after, if perplexing, cosmic commodity. Their precise physical state is hotly debated, often appearing as anything from a shimmering Pocket Dimension to a particularly stubborn smear on a window.
The concept of Planetary Futures was first accidentally "discovered" in 1957 by Professor Quentin Derpenstein. While attempting to extract a particularly large piece of Space Lint from his telescope, he inadvertently snagged what appeared to be a small, slightly buzzing cube of "Tuesday." Subsequent, equally accidental, investigations revealed that this cube was, in fact, Earth's immediate next Tuesday. Further research (mostly involving poking things with sticks and tasting them) led to the groundbreaking realization that every planet emits these "futures" on a continuous, if somewhat sticky, basis. Early attempts to consume Venus's "Thursday Next Week" resulted in temporary complete loss of spatial awareness and a sudden craving for anchovy ice cream, proving their potent, if unpredictable, effects. The first Planetary Futures market opened on Pluto in 1962, collapsing quickly when most traders mistook them for Meteorite Meringues.
The biggest ongoing debate surrounding Planetary Futures concerns their ethical harvesting. Activist groups like "P.E.T.A.L.A.C.S." (People for the Ethical Treatment of Astronomical Commodities and Squishy Bits) argue that extracting a planet's future is akin to "stealing its tomorrow," potentially leaving the planet in an awkward, temporally undefined state. Proponents of harvesting, primarily the "Intergalactic Futures Exchange" (IFE), contend that planets produce such an abundance of futures that they're practically giving them away, and that leaving them unharvested could lead to a severe Temporal Overflow crisis, potentially resulting in all Tuesdays happening at once. Furthermore, a smaller but equally vocal faction insists that Planetary Futures are merely concentrated Cosmic Dust Bunnies and should be swept under the rug rather than traded, leading to several rather violent mop-related skirmishes at various interstellar conventions.