Aliens, Swimsuit Models, and Anal Probes

If an alien spaceship landed on the road in front of you and the occupants stepped out and approached you to join them on their return into space, would you go?

Remember “Close Encounters of the Third Kind?” Richard Dreyfuss’s character took the opportunity. What became of him? He had a family and kids. Aside from the fact he ruined the living room with a giant mud sculpture of a mountain and convinced all the neighbors he was stark raving mad with his other worldly visions, I’d think they would miss him quite a lot – the family that is; neighbors would gossip the same either way, that’s just what they do.

In any case, would you step away from family and friends (coworkers and the boss, no problem) to become a missing person statistic, or the subject of some sleezy supermarket tabloid?

I can make the decision easier on most of you.

Scenario One – The aliens are slimey wart covered beings who smell of sour milk. Your answer is a definitive “No”. Your excuse, “I’m sorry, I have family and a close network of friends whom I’d miss and who would miss me. Although the opportunity tittilates me intellectually, I sadly must turn down your offer.” You rationalize afterwards that it all had to do with anal probes anyway.

Scenario Two – The aliens look like Sports Illustrated swimsuit models and you can smell flowers when they come close to you. You stutter, forgetting your name, sure of the fact you are an only child, orphan bachelor (despite the band on your left ring-finger), who leads a hermit existence and doesn’t have a job anyway. If you could remember how to speak you might answer, “Yes, for the good of science with little regard to my own personal sacrifice, I will join you on your mission!”

Scenario One – You go home and try to convince your friends and family you didn’t fall asleep driving, hit a tree, and lapse into delirium. Nobody believes you and you eventually convince yourself it was all just a dream.

Scenario Two – The aliens, taking into account your incoherence and drooling problem, retract their offer. The last you see of them, they are leading a cow into the mothership. You go home and dream of anal probes.

This entry was posted in Everything Else. Bookmark the permalink.