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That'll be a rocket fuel-cell re-entry after unsuccessfully trying to launch your offerings to St. Bin into space. Even space junk rejected it.
St Bin has passed by this way today, but I have decided to spread the risk a bit and worship a new idol, in the form of a robust bag now filled with assorted rubble, shite and stuff from the attic. It shall be collected later this day by the Beelzebin, the Anti-Bin, riding atop a mighty van, with a crane.