Happy gotcha day, orphan nation!

It's officially five years since I became Annie Boardbucks.

And from the moment I went on that podcast to search for my parents,

you've been here with me.

Some days it's hard to even remember who I was before it was adopted.

The orphanage, my friends.

Anyway, no where Sandy and I are right now?

We are outside the brand new warbox's automated delivery hub.

Huge, right?

This place is home to almost 200,000 drones, just waiting to fly.

It's like if Willy Wonka's factory had babies with NASA.

Starting tomorrow, if you order something for Warbucks,

one of these beauties will be flying it right to your door,

whether you're in New York City or on a farm in Iowa

or a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

Name please.

Annie Warbucks.

Now, I've seen some comments and memes suggesting it looks a little super villainy

for the richest man in the world to command an army of flying robots, and the bald head isn't

helping.

But underneath it all, he's just my dear, sweet, softy of a dad.

Idiots! How do we take over the world when these drones won't glisten to commands?

...