In a bold move that has left residents scratching their heads and digging into their wallets, Alabama officials announced the construction of a groundbreaking highway project, dubbed the "Phantom Highway." This ambitious $5 billion venture aims to connect non-existent destinations in the heart of the state, promising to streamline travel for imaginary commuters based on excellent forecasts and a robust crystal ball. Governor Bob Fiverton, standing amidst a backdrop of faded road signs and potholes that each have their own Twitter accounts, stated, “We believe this highway will not only be a symbol of progress but also a beacon of hope for all those who have dreamt of unlimited asphalt.” When pressed for details about the road's construction timeline, the governor pointed to the sunset and said, “Good things take time, especially when you’re building pathways that only exist in our minds.” The project has garnered strenuous support from a surprisingly vocal group, the “Phantom Highway Enthusiasts,” who have held weekly meetings in an abandoned gas station. “This highway is our chance to innovate! Think of all the traffic we won’t be in!” exclaimed their leader, an outspoken proponent known only as ‘Invisible Joe.’ “And maybe if we squint hard enough, we can see it!” Meanwhile, taxpayers are being asked to foot the bill through a series of new taxes dubbed the “Road to Nowhere Tax,” which cleverly hitches a ride on existing vehicle registration fees. Experts believe this new tax will revolutionize the way we think about paying for infrastructure—specifically, about paying for infrastructure that isn’t there. One taxpayer, who wished to remain anonymous for fear of being placed on the state’s watch list for public dissent, lamented, “I always thought paying taxes would lead to more roads, not roads that only exist in PowerPoint slides. But hey, at least I’m supporting imaginary jobs, right?” Critics of the project have raised concerns about the lack of tangible benefits for residents. “Why are we investing billions in a highway that doesn’t actually connect anywhere? What’s next, a bridge to Narnia?” asked local historian and part-time conspiracy theorist, Susan Faraway. “At this rate, we might as well start planning trains to Atlantis.” Amid the skepticism, the state has launched an aggressive marketing campaign promising the “thrill of phantom travel.” The slogan—“Dream It, Drive It, Don’t Actually Do It”—has been met with mixed reviews, with some praising the hauntingly honest approach, while others feel it’s a little too on-the-nose. Infrastructure analyst Barry Lanes, who specializes in projects that only exist on paper, expressed his mixed feelings. “On one hand, this could stimulate the economy of imagination, but on the other, it does nothing for actual traffic congestion—though we could just blame everything on the invisible cars.” As construction sites remain empty and stakes filled with fabric banners flail in the wind, one thing is certain: Alabama’s taxpayers are bound to feel the aftershocks of this phantom project long after it’s carved out of thin air. After all, in a state where ghosts roam the highways, it seems only fitting that their roads would be some of the first to embrace the ethereal age.