It’s the year 2154, fish aren’t frying in the kitchen, and beans aren’t burning on the grill. Because the Earth is ruined. Looks like the super wealthy are finally getting a piece of the pie, though. They’ve moved on up, to the Elysium side, to a deluxe apartment in the sky, leaving the rest of humanity to rot. See you later, poor people! Don’t let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya. Come to think of it, who put the Good Lord in charge of splitting butts?