I'm glad that I got to talk to you. You've helped me see my native star-system differently. This place where you live, Earth, is so similar to my home planet, Prom, that I feel more like we are kinfolk, you & I, rather than extra-terrestrials to each other.
I used to think of life on Prom as dull, because our landscape is sparsely populated by mothers and children exclusively, but now I am thankful for this setup. I now feel that we are lucky.
Please climb into my flying saucer so that you can ride along with me. I wish to return the favor that you offered when, to highlight your planet's awe-inspiring phenomena, you took me on a tour of its most interesting zones. I loved the shoe store and the pet store and the gun store. I would feel bad if I did not bestow upon you the same opportunity to see the finest parts of my own homeland.
So, recline next to me on that other padded sofa. Buckle your safety belt. Now I will press the accelerator into the red. You can see, if you look out the side-windows, that we are leaving your solar system and entering mine. There goes Neptune and Jupiter. And here comes planet Prom. Now I'll crash-land. OK, unbuckle your safety belt and follow me: we'll take a walk.
You can see that my home planet is covered with enormous palm trees. This probably surprises you, the same way that I myself was surprised to see that Earth was carpeted with grass. Each planet is beautiful in its own way.
Now I'll introduce you to many breastfeeding mothers. Here is Sasha; here is Jane; here is Mandy; here is... Oh, on second thought, let's abandon this plan. I realize that I'd rather take you home now. I don't want you to be late for your job, since you told me that you are a free person who chooses to "work hard for a living".
Be careful re-entering the flying saucer. Now strap yourself into the comfy seat. Would you like to try piloting the spacecraft yourself, this time? OK, I'll teach you how to do it. Simply type in the coordinates for Earth on that Destination Display Panel; then ease the accelerator lever upwards until it can't go any higher. Good job. Now look out of the side-window again: See planet Prom shrinking away in the background? That proves that you are following the proper trajectory. Now look how Jupiter and Neptune are scrolling past, as we crash-land on Earth. That's it; we're here! Now just flip the switch labeled "Open the Pod Bay Doors" and we can hop out.
I feel that I should walk you home, to make sure that you don't faint after all that excitement, but I can't remember which one of these dwellings is yours: they all look so similar to me. Oh, it's the brown one? Ah, yes, now I remember. Take my hand and let's walk thru the grass until we reach your paved driveway.
Alright, here we are, at the asphalt of your abode. I will now wave to you and gently weep while you walk toward your front door and enter. But, first, allow me to give you a hug and a kiss. There: mwah. I delight in showing love to foreigners. I wish you success at your work-station tomorrow.
Ah, shit, I feel so lonely, now that I'm walking back to my spacecraft without you, my friend. I really like earthlings. Although this planet seems so scary compared to mine, I almost wish that I could afford to purchase a home here, so that I could meet many more souls like you, and enjoy taking walks with them at the beach. My favorite part about Earth is its shores. I also wish that I could couple its sundown.
But it's OK to feel sad and ripped-off; so I will continue sulking back to my ship...
Ah, now that I'm inside my flying saucer's Pilot Room, here are my thoughts: It's not as enjoyable to recline in Navigational Love-Seat 1 without a stranger reclining next to me in Navigational Love-Seat 2. But I will race back to Planet Prom all by myself, & then go to sleep in my native hay bale. I will dream fast, to force our main star to burn out & feed the Black Hole that guarantees our common doom, thus minimizing the void that separates us all from each other.
CRITICAL DISCUSSION
Now that we have skimmed this intercepted report, I want to ask my respected colleagues here at the Agency a single question:
Why did the terrorist from Planet Prom opt for a letdown instead of ending the myth correctly? Think before you answer: This evil foe could have simply continued to pay visits to our planet—it obviously wasn't difficult for its fighter jet to go up & down & back & forth. Put yourself in the place of the enemy for a moment: Consider that you could have awakened on Friday morning & returned to the suburbs to touch base with your new spy, in that brown house that is now your headquarters. You might even invest in some stocks & bonds, presuming that you could avoid being murdered by riffraff. I can even imagine how you might begin the above account's sequel — you could write:
Dear diary, it is now the next morning. I am relieved that I survived the tumultuous night. Recently I met a mortal who lives on planet Earth, and I was worried that the Elements of Nature would try to "fix" me during my slumber, so I found it difficult to drift into dreamland; it was as though I was tethered to a port of vigil. I eventually finished the mission, but my rest was fitful. Now I'm ready to embark on another deception. So I'll write to you again, if I have nothing better to do.
Incidentally, why are you all not more afraid of these beings? Don't you know that we should be shaking in our boots?
No comments:
Post a Comment