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Funny

That doesn’t make sense.   Can’t be.   Someone’s playing a practical joke.   There is no evidence of extraterrestrial life.   It’s bullshit and a waste of tax dollars.   Yes, I realize it was captured on an advanced digital camera, but I don’t believe in aliens.   I’ve debunked all the bullshit tv shows.  

      Alien saucers in the window are reflections of the chandelier in the window.   Noises people hear are due to psychological disorders or some idiot forgetting his cell phone is still on.   I’ve debunked all the bullshit and I’m telling you I’ll debunk this.   First step is to get the images digitized.   That way I can magnify it through a software program on my PC.  

     So, I do that and I’m looking at it and it still looks like a UAW.   Unless someone fucked with my camera when I wasn’t looking.    Bullshit.   Who would fuck around with my camera for one lousy UAW sighting?   Nobody I know.  

      So, I call up THE magician.   You know?   The one who’ll give a million dollars to anyone who can show supernatural stuff.   It’s bullshit and we all know it, but Randi will show me who the fuck put it there and show me how to debunk it. 

*

    I’m at his house.  The GOAT of magicians.   James Randi.   I’ve read his books (all of them) and if anyone can figure out W T F is going on with this picture, it’s Randi.   He’ll show it’s unrepeatable and explain this bullshit.  

     I show him the picture.   He says, “That’s it.   One lousy picture.   Anyone could photoshop this in about five minutes.”   But, nobody photoshopped this.   I went to a reputable developer (if there’s still called that?) and he’s a skeptic just like we are.   So, that wouldn’t explain it.   Randi’s not giving up his million dollars, so we head to where this photo was taken.   BFE.  

*

    You can take pictures with your phone if you want.   I know Randi already knows this by the look he gives me.   He studies the landscape and studies the photo.   He brought binoculars and looks around the area the photo was taken.   We head there brave.   There’s nothing to be afraid of.   There are no aliens and we both know that.   So, there is a mountain near by and a cave.  We’re not speleologists, but we know bullshit when we see it.   So, we head in the first cave where I photographed “the alien” with the flashlights on our phones on.   Then, we see bursts of light in different colors flashing in what seemed like visual Morse code    We’re not linguists, but Randi knows what to do and runs towards these bizarre lights like he’d debunked bogus seances.   Then, I didn’t see Randi anymore.  So I called out, “James.   Where are you?”   I just heard the echo from the cave.   So, I place my flashlight towards the Morse lights but my cellphone light dims and I feel something that feels like a vacuum pulling me towards it.   I creep backwards, but feel sucked in.   Then, I go through it and it feels odd.   It seems like I’m falling but I don’t know what direction I’m falling.   There doesn’t appear to be left, right, up, or down here.  

     I feel a thump in all directions.  Weird.   And I see Randi laying there snoring.   Wonder if this means I’ll get the million bucks after all.   I wake him up.   I tell him what happened.  

     “Right.   Aliens abducted us.   I’m going to make sure we both get a drug test when we get home.   We’re probably both on some psychedelic drugs.   That explains all of this;   The cave with the lights, the falls, the abduction.   Everything.   Now, I’m going to get my cellphone and . . .” he pulls out a cucumber and looks perplexed.   He then asks me what I see in his hands and I tell him it’s a cucumber.   He says he also sees a cucumber.   I take out my cellphone and it’s a frankfurter.   Randi again states we should get tested for drugs.  

      Then, we start hearing cacophony.  Loud, obnoxious cacophony.   I ask Randi what he hears but then I realize we both have universal aphasia.   If the reader doesn’t know what the hell that means, look it up on the internet.  

      Then, of all things, it feels like I gotta take a leak, but there’s no bathroom and we can’t understand each other.   So, I unbutton myself, zip the fly down, and flip it over my underwear.   But it feels softer than usual.  Not just not erect, more like gelatin.   And it looks like a Rubix cube.   I relieve myself and gummy bears come out.   I don’t think I’m going to eat those.  

    We both start metamorphosing.   Randi’s arms turn into traffic tickets, mine turn into dough.   My stomach starts ballooning inflate, exflate, exflate, exflate, inflate.  Maybe this is how aliens breathe.   Wait, how can we breathe if we’re in outer space.   Doesn’t make sense.   I tell this to Randi but all we hear is glossolalia from each other.  

       Then, we start to separate from our limbs, or implode or something.   There’s no up, down, left, right, or in, out.  There just is me and Randi in nowhere breathing God only knows what.   At least I might get a million dollars.  

      I then think.   I wonder if we could die here or if others could be born?   Maybe two of the same sex could have a baby here?   Why not?   I look at Randi who looks like an old ice cream cake.   

     If we get out of here, back to Earth or the goddamn cave, I’ll have a million bucks.   But, if we’re stuck here, then this was all for naught.   What about my family, my parents, my kids, the payments I make?  

     Then, I see another creature.  My eyes haven’t metamorphosed yet.   But it’s asymmetrical.   That’s weird.   And although it’s naked, it has no gender.   But, how would it keep the species alive?   I see Randi trying to relieve himself and playing cards are spurting everywhere.  

     Then, there’s another feeling, like a pushing vacuum or like when we put the vacuum in reverse.   And we implode, but we’re not dead.   We’re in the crazy cave, but our bodies are still the same as before we imploded.   I try urinating, but again get skittles again.   And there are cards flying everywhere.  

    We walk out of the cave.   We check our pockets and no cellphones, just fruit.  What can we tell our wives?   Maybe we both need a drug test.   Or maybe I’ll get a million bucks.   If Randi can still write a check.  If not, the talk shows will pay us both.

July 05, 2024 17:54

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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