The Band Leader continued his tour through the underbelly of the land and told the minions under the large roof where tanks are made that their services will no longer be required after the last one currently on their books is completed.
A musky smell filled the air.
Gasp! No more foam to spray? No more shuttles after the last one flies next year? No more foam for even a follow-on heavy lift machine?
No more MAF. It was a great run.
Time to turn over the reigns.