Episode 11: Space, Scents, and Cosmic Curiosities

Lily Vogue

Welcome back, everyone, to "What the Fact?!", your weekly deep dive into the weirdest corners of human knowledge. I'm so excited to bring you Episode Eleven, which we've titled...

Buster McGillicuddy

Wait for it... Space, Scents, and Cosmic Curiosities. It's got 'sniffing the stars' vibes, doesn’t it?

Lily Vogue

Well, that's... an interesting way to describe it, Buster, but you're not entirely wrong. Today, we're unraveling a peculiar mystery of outer space—

Buster McGillicuddy

—and we're bringin' our noses, apparently.

Lily Vogue

Yes. And if you're intrigued by the idea of space having a scent, you're in the right place. But first, we’d like to thank our sponsors for making this episode possible.

Buster McGillicuddy

Yep, a big shout-out to AI Salon, theSalon.ai. They’ve got tech that'll make you look smarter and way cooler during online meetings.

Lily Vogue

Practically magic. Now, let’s get back to space, shall we?

Lily Vogue

So, let’s dive right in with a question that’s as strange as it is fascinating—what does space smell like? You might think it smells like, well, nothing. After all, the vacuum of space is supposed to be odorless, right?

Buster McGillicuddy

You’d think so, but let me guess. Space managed to pull a fast one on us, huh?

Lily Vogue

Exactly, Buster. According to astronauts—many of whom seem to have unexpectedly strong opinions on this—space smells. They’ve described it as something like burnt metal or gunpowder. Imagine if your favorite welding shop and a Fourth of July barbecue collided—it’s weirdly specific!

Buster McGillicuddy

That’s... such a vivid picture. So suit up, go to space, and instead of the grandeur of infinite galaxies, you’re greeted with the scent of, what, steak gone wrong?

Lily Vogue

Not quite how I’d frame it, but it does raise the question—why does a vacuum, which *should* have no smell, end up with one? The short answer? Chemistry. The vacuum itself doesn’t actually have a scent, but when residual particles from space react with the materials on spacesuits or spacecraft, voilà! You get these intriguing odors.

Buster McGillicuddy

So you’re saying the cosmic funk is just a suit’s “been there, done that” kinda smell?

Lily Vogue

A little reductive, but sure, let’s go with that. Scientists think it’s compounds like ozone or other high-energy particles interacting with the fabric. It’s not the vacuum itself that smells; it’s the aftermath when oxygen is reintroduced back at the space station.

Buster McGillicuddy

Oh, that’s perfect. So it’s not the grandeur of space we’re sniffin’, just the sweaty aftermath of a spacesuit party. Nice.

Lily Vogue

[laughing] I hate to burst your bubble, but yes, something to that effect. And this brings us to your next brilliant idea, I think?

Buster McGillicuddy

Oh, you bet! Picture this: "Eau de Cosmos—fresh from the solar system, with captivating notes of interstellar gunpowder and a hint of burnt circuitry. For the bold adventurer in you."

Lily Vogue

[amused sigh] So, NASA doubles as a perfumery now? I’ll admit, the angle is unique, but who exactly is this for? Aspiring space tourists, perhaps?

Buster McGillicuddy

Absolutely. Space enthusiasts, history buffs, and anyone looking to smell like the final frontier—imagine it on a first date. "Oh, this? It’s just what intergalactic heroes wear."

Lily Vogue

[chuckling] Right, because nothing says romance like "notes of vacuum residue." You really have a knack for finding the most niche markets, don’t you?

Buster McGillicuddy

Hey, niche is where the gold’s at—or the stardust, in this case.

Buster McGillicuddy

Speaking of niche markets and cosmic wonders, here’s a curveball I stumbled across—guess what I found while poking around Wikipedia?

Lily Vogue

Naturally.

Buster McGillicuddy

—and I, uh, I discovered there isn’t a dedicated page for the vacuum of space. Can you believe that? I mean, I thought everything under the sun—and beyond it—was already covered on that site!

Lily Vogue

Wait, what? That’s... surprising. Wikipedia has pages for the most obscure things imaginable. Are you sure you didn’t miss it?

Buster McGillicuddy

Oh, I triple-checked. If there’s a page, it’s hiding better than a shy UFO. But yeah, no official page. Just fragments buried in other articles. It’s like no one could be bothered to give the great cosmic void its own spotlight.

Lily Vogue

That’s almost poetic, really. The vacuum—the great nothingness itself—being left out because, well, it’s quite literally... nothing?

Buster McGillicuddy

Yeah, or maybe humans just know so little about the vacuum, we’re like, “Eh, we’ll skip that one.” Somewhere, I bet there’s an alien historian facepalming at our oversight.

Lily Vogue

[laughing] An alien historian, really? You think they’d care?

Buster McGillicuddy

Oh, absolutely. They’re probably lookin’ us up online, and bam—big ol' blank spot where our vacuum knowledge should be. They’re like, “Ah, these humans, still scratching their heads over basic space stuff.”

Lily Vogue

I wonder what they’d say about all our other missing facts. This is making me think about how we prioritize knowledge. Wikipedia is this vast trove of human understanding, yet we’ve apparently failed the vacuum. What does that say about us?

Buster McGillicuddy

That we’re more interested in debating pineapple on pizza than documenting the infinite abyss, maybe?

Lily Vogue

[chuckling] Touché. But, seriously, this kind of gap in online knowledge is fascinating. It highlights our blind spots, doesn’t it?

Buster McGillicuddy

Oh, no question. Which is why I think it’s time for action. We should, uh, co-author “The Cosmic Vacuum Manual.” Make it the definitive guide! Full-color illustrations, scratch-n-sniff space smells—

Lily Vogue

—scratch-n-sniff?

Buster McGillicuddy

Well, that’s the best part! Bring the space smells to the people. You know, turn our vacuum failure into a vacuum bestseller.

Lily Vogue

I dread to ask, but I’m assuming you’ve already envisioned the ad campaign for this literary masterpiece?

Buster McGillicuddy

Naturally. “Finally understand the silent nothingness of space! Warning: may include hints of ozone and the cosmos’ greatest hits.” Boom. Instant classic.

Lily Vogue

[laughing] You never cease to amaze me, Buster. I’m not convinced the world is ready for your space-scented pitch, but the concept itself might have legs. I mean, with space tourism gearing up, perhaps we should be preparing people for encounters with things like smells of space—

Lily Vogue

Speaking of smells and your out-of-this-world ideas, Buster, let’s entertain a thought—space tourism. It’s not just a sci-fi dream anymore, is it? We’re talking real people paying real money to zip into orbit and experience, well, space in all its bizarre glory.

Buster McGillicuddy

Yup, and I betcha half of ’em won’t be ready for the smell of burnt space barbecue when they pop back into the shuttle.

Lily Vogue

Which raises a hilarious thought—what if we prepped them for it? Think training sessions complete with simulated zero-gravity and—wait for it—artificially recreated space scents?

Buster McGillicuddy

Oh, I’m all in. You could have a whole training module, “The Aromas of the Cosmos.” A scratch-n-sniff guide for wannabe astronauts. "This here’s the distinct tang of lunar dust, this one’s Martian rust."

Lily Vogue

[laughing] Martian rust, seriously?

Buster McGillicuddy

Of course! And don’t forget the souvenir shop at the end of their trip. Imagine it—bottled scents from celestial bodies. “Titan Mist for Him,” “Venusian Breeze for Her,” and for the sophisticated guests, the “Black Hole Elegance” candle collection. Only $99 a jar.

Lily Vogue

[grinning] You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you? But I will admit, the concept of recreating space smells for Earthlings is... intriguing. There’s something so evocative about scent, isn’t there? It has this uncanny ability to transport you somewhere—or, in this case, hundreds of thousands of miles away from home.

Buster McGillicuddy

You’re not wrong. Think about it—smells bring back memories, you know? Like, imagine, some dude goes to space, smells that funky metallic tang up there, and a year later, he’s like, “You know, this reminds me of—of my uncle’s grill back at the lake.”

Lily Vogue

[smiling] A summer barbecue in space—who knew. But you’re onto something. For space tourists, those scents might become nostalgic. A reminder not just of the incredible experience but of how small and connected everything feels when you’re out there.

Buster McGillicuddy

That’s the beauty of it, Lily. Smells tell stories. Even if that story is, “Wow, my space boots smell like ozone and regret.”

Lily Vogue

[laughing] Regret or not, we’re heading into a very sensory future, it seems. And on that note, listeners, that wraps up today’s cosmic journey. Burnt metal, Martian rust, and all. Thank you for joining us for yet another odyssey of the bizarre.

Buster McGillicuddy

And, hey, don’t forget—if you enjoyed this, maybe whip up your own “Eau de Cosmos” at home...just don’t blame us if your kitchen smells like burnt toast.

Lily Vogue

[laughing] Until next time, stay curious, stay amazed, and we’ll see you on the next episode of "What the Fact?!" Goodbye for now!

Buster McGillicuddy

Later, folks!