In another plot twist no one asked for, a West Bank village has been displaced once more, prompting residents to dust off their packing tape and wonder where the moving trucks parked their ambitions.

Officials branded it temporary urban renewal, a phrase so elastic it could stretch into a slogan for a reality show about bureaucrats misplacing maps.

IDF soldiers were reportedly ordered to carry out the relocation with ceremonial seriousness, like a parade whose musicians forgot the tune.

Settlers were reportedly threatened by the memo itself, which suggested relocating to a more scenic hillside and included a complimentary coffee break in the relocation package.

Families began packing with the efficiency of people told the Wi-Fi will be cut off for the next three weeks.

Olive trees, stubborn as ever, filed restraining orders against bulldozers in a tiny rebellion that produced more paperwork than fruit.

Relocation forms demanded a livelihood certificate, a birth certificate, and a sworn statement that your grandparents survived family holidays without drama.

Newsrooms scrambled to hire translators who can turn bureaucratese into something resembling consolation.

Social media lit up with map memes that redraw themselves and press releases pretending the land has not moved at all.

Moving companies reported a boom in cargo vans and tents, with goats willing to star in the unlikely sequel From Here to There: The Village Edition.

Some locals floated the idea of displacement tourism, offering guided walks past the new fence and the old garden’s stubborn hose.

Ultimately the village remains, the map keeps shifting, and the only thing more permanent than the upheaval is the mountain of forms explaining it.