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As there were no humans who could help me, I looked up an old acquaintance of mine from the dark Delaware days. Though I had no name with which to track him, I did know which pond he was likely to be hanging around, so I made the 485-mile trip back through the distressingly wide Keystone State, to the abruptly narrow Plutonium State, and found our old gray friend right where we left him – in Jared’s shed.

This video, depicting our first encounter with the gray that lives in the tool/deep freeze shed at the Buckalew Compound, was recovered from deep within the BZ archives. It is still a relatively accurate depiction, but the grass is much longer, and the view of the shed is obfuscated by giant bushes of poison ivy.

When I spoke with the alien, he was a little drunk, and more than a little belligerent, but he gave me the information I needed. The following is a faithfully transcribed excerpt from the interview I conducted.

TS: So, what can you tell us about the new/old Upper Arlington monument?

A: What? I dunno. It’s just sort of. . . What is that?

TS: What is what?

A: That thing you said.

TS: Um, it’s the big weird thing with three stone towers that they’re building out in Ohio.

A: Oh, the information booth?

TS: It’s an information booth?

A: Well, I mean, it’s more than that, stupid. It’s like a tollbooth, too.

TS: And what are they building it for?

A: To make money, asshole.

TS: Can you explain why they need an information booth?

A: Same reason you do. We’re traveling billions of light years away from where we’re from, through wormholes that are packed disc-to-disc with traffic, and when we come out of the wormholes, yeah, we’re a little disoriented. Sometimes we get lost, too. Global positioning systems don’t work when you’re on the wrong fuckin’ globe, you know what I mean? So, we need to stop by every so often to get directions to the nearest, you know, fuckin’ line, or stone structure, or whatever, so we can get some energy, get our asses in gear, and get the fuck where we need to be.

TS: Well, can you tell me why they’re building it now? I mean, central Ohio has done without such a booth for thousands of years, and they’re rebuilding it now. Why now? And why so much smaller than the original?

The 8000 BCE Chevy Bantha, pictured here with the compact Chevy Quark. They don’t make ‘em like they used to.

A: Well, they’re building it smaller, cause the discs ain’t big like they used to be. You know how things get smaller as time goes on. Computers used to be as big as a whole room, and now they’re small enough to fit in a microscopic chip, like the ones we implant in all human brains. Same with cars, right? They got smaller as the years passed, partly because the technology shrunk. Well, same with discs. About ten thousand years ago, I used to drive a Chevy Bantha that had a warp drive as big as my whole saucer is now. Nowdays they make ‘em smaller, so they don’t need that giant clearance no more, so they built the booth smaller.

TS: Why build it now though?

A: To help with the invasion. The invasion forces are getting bigger these days, and with more and more of us coming, we got to try to be orderly, to know exactly where we’re supposed to invade, you know?

TS: Holy shit! You guys are invading?

A: ‘Course.

TS: For what? When will the invasion happen?

A: You ain’t so smart for a sasquatch. The invasion already started. We already here, boy.

TS: Where? Like, lying in wait?

A: No, we walking around now. Y’all just don’t know who we are. We use y’all like hosts, like what them reptilians do.

TS: Oh my god.

A: Ain’t you never seen some dumb ass walking around looking like he don’t know his first name, don’t look like they bathe, and sure as shit don’t know how to dress? One day they dress like they in the Australian outback, the next like a Indian, the next like a punk rocker. They can’t hold jobs, they got tattoos in inappropriate places, they don’t brush their teeth or cut their hair, they smell like all kinds of cigarette smoke, weed smoke, wormwood and anise. Sure as shit you seen ‘em.

TS: Yeah, I have. Everyone has, but we don’t pay them any mind. They’re what we call a yokels.

A: Yeah, see, that’s just it, boy. You call ‘em yokels cause you don’t understand ‘em. They ain’t dumb, they just don’t know how things are done here. They’re just trying the best they can. They don’t know to cut they hair, or keep from getting tattoos that are above the collar on the neck, or how long before the drug test they gotta stop smoking weed. They’re helpless as babies, it seems to you. You’re just all arrogant because it’s weird here to buy big ol’ boxes of Cap’n Crunch with crunchberries at four in the mornin’ and eat ‘em all at once on the way home. It ain’t like that in Zeta Reticuli. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with eatin’ a bunch of Cap’n Crunch in the good ol’ Zeta system. But you see, you arrogant fuck, we’re all around you. You’re just too stupid to see us.

TS: Wait a minute. All this sounds familiar. Like someone we know.

A: How long you think I been livin’ in this shed, boy? What d’you think I’m doing here? Ha!

At this point the alien dematerialized. Seconds later, his saucer emerged from the shed, and within a few more seconds – more quickly than I was able to pull out my camera – had disappeared into the overcast sky. My biggest worry, and my biggest sorrow, was that he never did answer my question of why they were invading. I pondered this through the whole of the long ride home.

So, dear readers, can you identify a gray when you see one? Try your luck in our new series, Spot the Gray!!! Coming soon to BlueZer0.

Check back for updates!!!!!