I left my fiancée at the altar, after she casually brought up her idea that the B-2 was inspired by the Ho 229 a week prior. I was devastated. I locked myself inside my room for 4 days and 4 nights, watching and reading nothing but B-2 content. After my retreat I snuck into Whiteman Air Force Base and broke into a B-2 hangar. I knelt before the mighty Spirit of California, named after my home state, and prayed for it's forgiveness for an entire night. I was briefly interrupted by an Air Force Security Forces member. But they were scared away after I told them that Security Forces are a bunch of nerds who weren't cut out for actual Air Force SF. I returned to praying, I told the Spirit that my fiancée meant no harm, that she was misguided. But the machine spirit of the B-2 awoke and spoke to me. It told me of an apocalyptic future, one in which the world was consumed by a war involving two factions. Those who believed the B-2 and the Ho 229 are one and the same, lead by my fiancée. And those, lead by me, who believe the B-2 is a creation of Jack Northrop's spirit, who visited Northrop engineers in their sleep and implanted them with the knowledge they would need to create the B-2. Marrying my fiancée would've triggered a series of events that would lead to this cataclysmic war, from which the Earth would never recover from. I knew what I had to do. I covered myself in the B-2's sacred RAM coating and proceeded to walk back home. I walked without fear, as the B-2's RAM would keep me safe from all harm. No police officer would approach me. No woman would look me in the eyes. No Flanker could track me. And no fish would get in my way. I walked and walked until I reached a hill that overlooked the church where my wedding would take place. I stared down at the people in attendance, her family and mine, and our friends. They disgusted me. There they stood, praising and smiling towards a woman who dared to compare the B-2 to a failed German dorito chip. But my disgust soon disappeared... I could hear it. I looked up and there it was... a B-2 flying overhead. I was in awe of its majestic form. It opened it's holy bomb bay. And unleashed a load of it's sacred, all American, bombs onto the church. I watched in silence as the B-2 destroyed everything and everyone I knew. But I knew it was worth it, the Spirit gave me something I had always wanted... a fresh start away from those Ho 229 worshipping heretics. But only after I went to the hospital. Because apparently RAM coatings are extremely toxic. While in the hospital, I saw on TV that the B-2 I witnessed actually strayed off course from its intended training target. Why the crew thought a church in the middle of Los Angeles was a good alternative, I will never know. But I knew that the Spirit of California was watching over me. It loved me. And I love the B-2.