BlueZer0.net

It was a huge disk that floated above me making no sound, and there were various red white and blue lights on it that blinked on and off, kind of like the Goodyear blimp. The difference was that the advertisements were written in strange symbols, except the one ad for the Art Bell radio program, and one for CC Radio, which is this great radio that gets outstanding reception - Art Bell claims to own one himself - and they also sell tape players that can record up to four hours on one tape. But other than those two ads, the rest, like I said, were unreadable. I had only been under the craft for a few seconds before my lights and my radio died, and then my engine died altogether, which left me stopped right in the middle of the interstate. I was terrified that I was going to get hit by a car, and then I noticed that there were no cars, but only a black pick up truck, which pulled up next to me. In it was the short Winston smoking man, who signaled toward my car, and then toward the ship, which then began to lift me into the air. Before I knew what was happening, I was inside the craft.

I got out of the car, and looked around. There were posters of Gillian Anderson all over the place, along with Bush/Cheney bumper stickers, and there were lots of McDonald's and Burger King bags on the floor, along with empty cigarette packs. Then a wall opened in a strange way - it was like a curtain parting at the beginning of a play, and there stood fifty or sixty little grays behind it, and they were all facing me. I stood frozen, and they began to communicate with me telepathically. They were saying, "Fuck y'all," over and over again until eventually one of them said to me in a slight southern drawl, "How you doin, there, Shadow? It ain,' nothin, to be scared about, we ain't goin' to probe your ass or nothin,." They all laughed telepathically.

"Well, what are you going to do?" I said.

"Um, nothing really, we're just supposed to keep you from slanderin, the good name of David Icke."

"But," I said, "I thought you hated David Icke because he was exposing you and the lizards."

"Nah, he ain't so bad. We had him brainwashed, and now he's our mouth piece. See, we've gone ahead and gotten him a television show, and he's going to start confusing everyone just like our pal Art, so we can run the world undisturbed. That's why we were told to abduct you and never let you go."

"I don't understand," I said. "What does David Icke's TV show have to do with me?"

"You are gifted, Shadow. Of all the world's men, your satirical powers are greater than any we've ever encountered, and if you were free to watch David Icke's TV show, the scathing reviews and wise ass comments would make him look like the world's biggest fool and liar and charlatan who takes advantage of the mentally challenged and just plain iditots whose money he steals when he sells them books, and make his followers see how utterly ridiculous he is and start paying attention to the truth, and important things, like the fact that G.W. Bush purchased the election, and that his homeland security team is slowly eroding all of their civil rights, and soon they'll be living in an Orwellian dystopia of Republican rule. We can't have our main double agent in the resistance persecuted by someone with your powers. Bush has instituted the standard Republican recession, and we need Icke for a distraction."

"Standard Republican recession?"

"Of course. Haven't you ever noticed that as soon as a Republican gets into office, twenty minutes later there is a recession? That's standard because we've got to funnel money into the global warming fund to make the planet more hospitable to lizards, so we take it from the poor!"

"Why does it cost money to make the planet warmer?"

"Because, idiot, global warming is the result of vibrations from the fourth dimension. Do you think those vibrations are free? Yeah, maybe in a cartoon world they'd be free, but here in lizard run reality, those vibrations are expensive. Plus there's the currency exchange. Fourth dimensional currency is like Mexican currency, so they rip you off when you go to change it over. But what is this, a James Bond movie? Do you think we're going to sit here and spill all our secrets to you before we cut you open with a laser beam and feed you to some electric eels or something? The point is this - we've been spying, and we know that your intention is to watch every David Icke show, and mercilessly rip apart his ridiculous arguments with annoying things like logic and reason, and make all of his followers and people who don't dismiss out of hand the idiotic things he says see the light. So we've been instructed to abduct you indefinitely. Might as well make yourself comfortable. Oh, yeah - what do you want to eat?"

"Excuse me?"

"We,re going to McDonald's. Do you want anything, or have you eaten?"

"I could go for a double cheese burger if you don't mind."

"You want fries with that?"

"Uh, yeah, please. And an Orange Hi-C if you don't mind."

"Sure, no problem. Then later we're going to watch the Cheers marathon on Nick at Nite and drink some beer. Our spies say you like Guinness, right?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"See, it isn't so bad being abducted indefinitely, now is it? Hell, maybe you can get one of those spotted bitches from Venus. I think Riley's girl has a sister."

"Spotted chicks, huh? Sounds interesting."

"Sure it does. Anyway, come on, The Simpsons are on."

So, the grays and I went to watch The Simpsons, and we ate, and then we got drunk and watched Cheers, and it was great. But in the back of my mind was the nagging doubt that I could live without seeing and making fun of the David Icke show, but I dared not think the thoughts themselves because I knew the grays would be able to pick up on my thought processes, so I just got drunk.

The next morning, however, was different. I didn't wake up until late, when we were traveling south on route one. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the beach," was the telepathic reply. "Then we're headed for the satellites of Pollux, for a couple days, then we're headed back to Venus for a few days until we have to go back to work on Earth. It's our vacation, so we're trying to make the most of it. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait in the ship while we're at the beach. We can't have you escaping. It's so crowded you could lose anyone there. But we'll leave the windows down so you don't die from the heat or anything. The last time we left someone in the ship they died, and we drove around for three hours trying to figure out what to do. They said we'd never be able to abduct anyone again, but Michigan laws don't stick once you're out of state."

I didn't think anything in particular, but I knew that would be my chance to escape. Once we got to the beach, and the grays all had their speedos on, and got their towels, and zinc oxide, and beach chairs, and water wings, and SPF 700,513 sun tan lotion (they burn up really quickly, which is why you usually only see them at night), and were leaving I asked them if they remembered to leave the windows down.

"Fuck, man. My fault," they said, and turned the ignition backward, leaving the accessory power on so I could listen to the radio and roll the windows down. "We'll bring you some salt water taffy."

I gave them forty minutes or so to get out of sight, and then climbed into the driver's seat. I might have stolen the ship, but the seat was so small it was uncomfortable, and since it was alien made the seat only went back so far, and plus it was a standard transmission which I hate. 613 gears? Fuck that. So I leapt from the ship's window, sixty feet to the parking lot where I landed on a fat lady, who didn't much notice. I took the bus back to New Castle County, and now I'm in hiding. I cannot reveal my position or the grays would find me. I sometimes think the only reason they don't just come get me is that they were parked next to a hydrant and might have been towed. Or maybe they just said, "Fuck it, we'll get him when we come back from Venus." But, my course of action is plain. It has been revealed to me that my mission, my purpose in life, is to make fun of David Icke's television show, and this I plan to do. So mark your calendars and check your local listings and so on and so on. And be prepared for the satire of a lifetime. That is all for now. Beware of the grays. And if you see a black pick-up truck with a little bald Winston smoking red neck driving, floor it. You never know what might happen next.

- The Shadow