Aliens Here: Of Course, They Want to Bend Earth to Their Will
So here’s what happened.
The aliens landed in one very large flying saucer on the football field behind Southampton High School the day after Thanksgiving in 2016. You couldn’t miss the spaceship. It was glistening white, 50 feet tall and 200 feet in diameter and it glowed.
When I say it landed, I don’t mean it touched the ground. In fact, it didn’t. It just hovered about four feet above the ground there, shivering and throbbing.
Soon people showed up. First it was two kids with a Frisbee, then the high school football team coming out for practice. The spaceship continued to glow. After a while, the police came, officers from the National Guard with several tanks, artillery guns and an infantry unit. Also a five-star general, General Bob Barnes, the head of the U.S. Army, who happened to be at his vacation home in Water Mill that day.
After an hour, a trap door on the underside of the spaceship lowered. Everyone moved back. Ten minutes later, stairs lowered down, and shortly after that a really ugly grey alien climbed down to stand on the grass. He was about 10 feet tall, with six arms and three legs and a big head with one bloodshot eye. He spoke English. Well, anyway, he moved his three lips as a voice spoke over the spaceship’s loudspeakers.
“Bow down before the Chief of the Rodon Galaxy,” it said.
Nobody moved. After a moment, the general looked over his shoulder at the soldiers, and then stepped forward with his arm outstretched.
“We welcome you to Earth,” the General said. “Come in peace.”
In response, the alien gestured back up the stairs of the spaceship where, slowly, an even larger alien came down, this one covered with orange sparkles and a crown and a 10-foot-tall scepter. This second alien, who was blue, held out the scepter and pointed the end at the general, and two loud clicks were heard. Both aliens were preparing to fire, the blue larger one with the scepter and the white smaller one from some kind of pointer it lifted out of a sheath around what might have been its waist.
Before they could, however, the general, who was highly trained at this sort of thing, hit the ground and fired two quick shots from his .38 caliber pistol, which he’d pulled quickly out from a holster under his jacket.
Both aliens let out a shriek and both fell to the ground, dead. Purple smoke emerged from their bodies and wafted up into the hatch on the underside of the spaceship.
With that, an alien with five arms and three legs and carrying a small broom and a sack climbed down the stairs and carefully brushed the remains of the first two into the bag.
“We surrender,” this third alien said, as he dragged the bag bumpily back up the stairs. The voice came directly out of his mouth. He had three lips making a triangle. “Earth is now master of the Rodon Galaxy. Please wait.” Then this third alien disappeared up the stairs.
Next, more words came over the loud speaker.
“We are 10 aliens onboard,” the loud speaker said, in a trembling, rather feminine voice. “We are now coming out with all our arms up to surrender. We will do your bidding.”
And so, there on the football field, the 10 aliens did come down with their many arms raised up. And soon after that, the spaceship and the aliens were taken away in troop carriers. Nobody knew quite where.
Later that day, the President of the United States got on the television to announce that America was now the ruler of more than 7 billion stars in the Rodon Galaxy—we had until now called it the XP435J Galaxy—and he had been in touch with them and those there now considered themselves conquered.
“We have accepted their surrender,” the President said. “The names of all the stars and planets are being currently transmitted to us and I am calling a meeting of the United Nations to see what we want to do with this.”
He also said this: “Each one of these stars and planets has a nearly unpronounceable name, and so we are busy re-naming them all.”
Later, he said this: “After meeting in the United Nations, we have decided that since we cannot agree among ourselves about how to divide everything up, and as there are
7 billion of these planets and 7 billion people on this planet, we will be contacting every one of you to give out one planet each as a gift to everybody.”
So now that was what was done. Within a week, every human on earth was the proud ruler of a beautiful planet or star in the Rodon Galaxy. Postcards, selfies, photographs and instant messages were sent back and forth. All these planets were beautiful and green, with lots of flowers and butterflies and waterfalls and foliage. And the subjects were waiting.
Turned out that all the aliens captured in the encounter, if you could call it that, had one piece of a puzzle in their heads (one of their heads) which, when joined with another by a silver rope that they had, could, with the two of them together, cause instant travel to the distant galaxy and to the planet chosen.
A few earthlings tried it. They came back within an hour, glowing with praise about the creatures they had found there. All the creatures freely sang the praises and pledged their troth to the human chosen for their particular planet. There was celebrating everywhere, music and food and song and sex and love flowing freely amidst the birds and the bees of the gardens.
Now more earthlings went, and only a few came home but all said it was just to say good-bye. They went back, after urging others to come too. Pretty soon, all the humans on earth migrated out to the particular Proton Galaxy planet that was theirs, leaving earth here ruined with air pollution and rising sea levels and trash and endangered species.
Everyone agreed it was pretty miserable here on Earth. And so everyone lived happily ever after in that faraway galaxy, leaving just me, the lone human remaining on Earth, camped out atop Mount Everest, still the tallest place on earth but now the size of a small island and the only place above the floods. I don’t really know why I stayed. Everybody is staying in touch with selfies and Facebook and Twitter from the different planets, and they are all just so very happy. I guess I just think somebody’s got to take care of the Earth. Might as well be me.
I eat a lot of fish. I process the abundant salt water to make drinking water. I grow tomatoes.
Sometime, if you get a chance, stop by. I’ve got a picture book of photographs from my planet, Photonaton. You wouldn’t believe this place. And honestly, it’s not so hard ruling it from afar.