Dec 2 - ???

December 2, 2004  5:49pm

Where to begin?  A dry, dusty morning just like any other.  I woke up, sneezed, and shook the dirt out of my hair.  Then, I sat wondering.  Why am I up when the sun is not even out?  Why do I have dirt in my hair?  Where do I see so clearly without my glasses? The answers came one at a time.  I woke up because I had a stick sticking in my back.  I removed the stick.  Dirt matted my hair because I was lying on the ground, probably most of the night.  I removed as much dirt as I could.  I could see clearly because aliens had kidnapped me the night before as I made my way home, had done radical experiments on me, and had dropped me off in a cow field a few hours before.  Maybe I should start at the beginning.

Part 1:  The beginning

In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth.  Then, he made all the things in them.  Then he made man.  Man, guy named Adam, was a bit of a dissapointment, so He made woman.  Woman, gal named Eve, well, it was like comparing apples to oranges.  This was after God had made apples and oranges, mind you.  And they were not always called apples and oranges, though.  At first they were red things and orange things, but the saying would not have been quite as good, know what I mean? 

Anyway, Eve said, "I'll call these apples" and Adams scratches his head and said, "I'll call these oranges" and Eve said, "Very original, Adam" and Adam said, "Well it kinda proves the point about the differences, don't ya think?" and Eve said, "What differences?" and Adam said, "Well, the differences between apples and oranges and me and you right?" and Eve said, "Oh, Adam, just shut up and take a bite of this apple, this nice snake gave showed it to me and it tastes very scrumptious" and Adam, looking around, said, "What's a snake, I don't think I have seen one yet" and Eve said, "Just bite the damn apple, Adam."  Voila.  We have the creation of the phrase "like comparing apples to oranges".

So anyway, after God got tired of looking at two naked people acting like idiots, he decided to get away for a while until Adam and Eve had figured out clothes.  He crossed the galaxy and came upon a planet very simular to the earth he had created, only he had not created it.  Even more shocking, this earth already had people on it and they were wearing clothes.  He found one alone in a field and decided to ask some questions.

December 8, 2004  4:47pm

Now, I have no idea what those questions were.  I only know that there was another planet, God went there, and poof and alien race much like humans.  I'm from earth, just like you, okay?  I do not need this information and neither should you so just stop whining for it or I will turn this little tale around and you will never hear about my adventures with the aliens or their facination with spam.  Okay? Okay.

So, before I was rudely interupted, God came back to earth and saw that his people were clothed and he was happy.  He then decided to leave them alone and not mention the other planet and see what happened.  He then created solitaire and it was good.

8,000 years later, the other planet got bored and decided to find out if any other intelligent life was out there (or here, depending on your universal view).  How do I know this?  Simple:  they told me when they got here. Which brings me back to my story, the second part to the first part of me getting drunk and touring the world with aliens.

It all started earlier in the night when my friend Jeff got arrested for trying to stop his girlfriend from having sex with a man who had slept with a goat. Well, that wasn't exactly the charge the police gave him, but hey, brevity. So I and my friend Charley went down to the bar to raise money to bail Jeff out. It started that way, innocently enough, I swear. So we end up drinking away all the money and Jeff gets out of jail the next morning. All that is important to this story is that myself and Charley were so drunk we did not see that police car when the curb jumped out in front of Charley's pickup and the mail box dived in front of the grill to save the telephone pole from being smashed in a valiant but futile jesture.

Charley said it best, "Shit". 

So there we are, sitting in a busted Chevy covered with mail that will so not be delivered before the weekend and we are bathed in a bright white light.

"What the hell are yall doin'?" the officer behind the spotlight said.

"We was just droppin' off some mail," said Charley.

"Yeah," I said, then opened the passenger door and ran like mad. I wanted to hear "Freeze" or "Stop or I'll Shoot". Something, man. What did I get, Super-Cop jumping on me from ten feet away, tying my hands with one of those twisty ties and shoving my face in the asphalt. Then I heard tires squeal.

Super-Cop and I looked around to see Charley driving away in the police officer's car. I laughed, Super-Cop started running. As I watched in stunned amazement, Super-Cop catches the car, hauling himself up onto the trunk lid as Charley sped away. Charley drank alot that night, but he could still have out driven a running police officer had said police officer not been embued with abilities far above mortal man. Thinking about all this, I suddenly realized that I was lying on the ground and that Super-Cop may just think about me as he pulls Charley from the car window and jumps to the rooftop, Batman-style. So I got up and ran.

Allow me to give anyone out there an important tip: If running from the a crime scene with your hands tied behind your back, pick an direction without a lot of fences. Heaving my largesize frame over chain-link and picket (the worst by far) kills the back. Finally I reached a large cow field and stopped running. The moon shone down on the field bright and full, exposing the landscape to my bleary eyes. I looked behind me to see if anyone had followed, but only saw the comforting image of a broken picket fence and city lights. I could feel a little blood on my hands now that the adreneline had worn off and a little of the drunkeness sinking in again. Slowly I picked myself up and began walking. Until I slipped in cow entrails.

December 12, 2004 1:17 pm

Part III: The middle of the middle

Now, to say I freaked a bit is unrealistic.  I freaked a lot.  As the moon cast off the clouds to shine a soft baby blue light onto the earth, I found my self lying in a puddle of cow.  There was cow everywhere.  Even a little in the tree twenty feet ahead.  Then I saw something that wasn't cow, that wasn't moon light, that was pure and clean and from the heavens.  It was a little orange man with an oval face, large black eyes, and spindly little legs and arms, clad in hiking boots and a parka and nothing else.

"Shit, dude.  You got cow all over you.  Did you know they could turn inside out like that?"  It said, staring at me.

I said, "AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

It jumped a little bit and then pointed one long finger at me.  The tip of the finger glowed and a small beam of light came out of it.  The beam came straight at me and suddenly I was deaf. No, wait.  Everything just got really quiet.  I got really quiet.  I couldn't speak.  I jumped up to run, but kept slipping on bovine innards.  Then the beam of light came again, and I stopped.  All of me just stopped.  The thing came around me and stared at me.

"Why do y'all always do that?  Like you'd never seen an alien before."  He must have seen the shock in my eyes. "Oh, com'on.  Like George Lucas could hire people that creative?  Even Jim Henson had to go off planet for Kermit and he couldda done with a green sock, know what I mean?  And don't get me started on Spielberg.  A guy has to use the telephone for a minute and Mr Spielberg gets a couple of hundred million out of it.  Do you know I didn't even get mention on the DVD?  No, in that movie they make a puppet.  Green sock for the talking frog, hell no!  But when they need a genuine alien they make a robot.  What a world, huh?  Boy, you don't talk much, do you?"

I struggled to move, to yell, to fucking blink, but all I got was nothing.  I was captive of this alien thing and all I wanted to do was, hell, even pee my pants, but nothing doing.  I could barely even understand what he was saying under my panic.  It walked away for a moment while he was talking.  I could feel him releasing my hands from the ziptie Super-cop had put on me.  Then it walked around where I could see it again.  Then it slapped me.  That brought me back to it, even though now my head was at a right angle and staring at the grass.

"Oh, huh, no wonder you can't answer me.  Sorry,"  he positioned my head so I could see him again.  "Now, if I unfreeze you and you start screaming again, I will make you look like this cow, get it?"

I went into blind panic again.  I think I may have blacked out.  Then he slapped me.  Again.  Then I fell.

He had unfrozen me over one the many piles of cow that littered the field and now my front was covered in cow intestines as well as my back.  I scrambled to get away, but then came to a little.  He could have already killed me.  He could have turned me into the puree, straight blender style but here I am.  Even if he is going to kill me, I thought, In the afterlife, I might as well get to say I hung out with an alien before he zapped me into goo.  That's gotta be better how I died story than "I wuz huntin with my 4-year-old and she shot me," ya know?  So I turned around and stuck out my hand.

"Sorry, about that.  You can understand, what with the cow parts and you being an alien and all.  Name's Franklin Odermeyer.  Everybody just calls me Oder, though," I said. 

The alien grabbed my hand and shook it with a hearty grip, "Good to meet you, Oder, my name's (insert unpronounceable string of consonants here).  But you can call me Fleat."

Fleat was a little shorter than me, now that I was standing, at about 5'8".  His skin, which looked orange before, was now more yellow with a little red running through.  The hiking boots were canvas and the parka looked like a normal orange artic parka.  Since the night was a little warm, I thought it a little odd, but here I was talking to an alien, so odd parka was a little better than really fucking weird naked alien.

"So, um," I said, trying to see if I could start conversation with an alien.  Movies seemed off the table and fashion was not my strong suit.  I also guessed asking, "do you live around here?" was a little off, too.  Finally, I just said, "You know, there are easier ways to get a steak from a cow."

Fleat looked around at the ruin of the bovine.  His head snapped back at me and he stared. "You think I did this?  Hell no, he did this," he said, pointing at the ground about ten feet off.

December 14, 2004  2:24pm

At first I thought the alien had gone crazy.  Was he saying that the pile of cow over there slaughtered the rest of the cow?  Then I saw the shape under the cow stomach(s?).  A man was lying face down.  I moved to see if he was all right, but I could tell he was dead.  In any case, Fleat stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"You don't want to do that, man.  He's a real mess.  He blowed up almost as good as our friend Bessy did.  You humans are some piece of work, ya know?  I mean, one day you are invention something as good as the tootsie pop, then the next you are trying to light the farts of cows and getting yourselves all blown up."

I turned to look at him, "You mean he was lighting the fart of a cow?  That's how this happened."

Fleat nodded, "Yeah, and like always you humans point you fingers at us and say that aliens are responsible.  Hell, I could stand here and tell you that cows are full of methane by the smell without disceting and slaughtering the poor dumb animal.  But you humans you think that we slice 'em up for kicks when really you raise these dumb kids who think holding a cigarette lighter to a cowss ass is funny.  Same thing with the anal probs.  It's all about lighting farts and blaming the aliens with your species.  If I had a dollar for everytime I had to explain this, I could, well, I really don't want to enter into economics at this time.  You'll just confuse it with me trying to take over that, too.  Like I would want too...  So what's your story."

So I told him about Jeff being arrested and the drinking and Super-cop.  He just nodded at the right moments and kept checking his wrist, which seemed to have nothing on it worth checking.  I ended with the inevitable question, "So why are you here?"

"Well, that's tough to say," he said, "why are any of us here?  I guess I am here right now in this field to meet you for some reason.  What that reason is I cannot tell.  But you will have to come with me."

"Go with you where?  I just need to get home, away from the cops and into my own bed.  I am still a little drunk and I think the stench of the cow is getting to..."  My statement was drown out by a low hum that reverberated to my toes.  A large light came zooming out the sky and was suddenly all around us.  Then we were no longer in the field.