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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "What sort of world be home to those who goes about judging all souls of what they do be right or wrong and how'd they know of this-and-that be bad or good be alsoooo, true lest they were told from the same lot who walked the walk and talked the talk and now they sit in judgment of us in those we place our absolute trust they're judging us and who's judging them ... are they above galore?" ... by the Poet. "Excuse me, little Miss. Are you the one looking for a ride?" (someone behind the counter points in agreement to his pointing her out) "Yes, I am, good sir." "Alrighty then, are you ready to go (little Miss. downs her cup's contents in one gulp) "I'm ready good sir. Shall we? "I hope you don't mind, little Miss, but I drive a Ford Truck. The cab of the truck is clean and comfortable." "That will be all good and well, good sir." "I don't anticipate any problems, little Miss." "How do you mean, good sir?" "Ohh! I only meant I had the engine checked out ... thoroughly, complete overhaul, that is." "So it's purr-fect, is it LOL!" (good sir leads the way to the diner's parking lot, and he points the truck out ... there it sits, at the lot's edge, next to a trash compactor, no other cars nearby, and one more oddity--it seems that the diner failed to pay it's electric bill in full as his truck sits in total darkness) "Little Miss, are you okay, you seem hesitant like you've seen a ghost." (no my good sir, not "A" ghost) "I beg your pardon, good sir." "Let me get the door, it kind of ...," "Sticks?" "So, um well where do you hail from?" "Out east." "That's a big part of the country there--um, are you...," "You don't take the main highway?" "Oh no, traffic's a nightmare, you don't want none that, we'll be stuck on the road for hours." "At this time of night? There's traffic you say?" "Oh yeah, there must be, you're a big girl to know that out east there's traffic everywhere, even for a dinky old town back there where the diner is," "My good sir, ... I didn't even tell you where I'm going?" "Oh, I know where you're going, little Missy!" "Funny that you would say that, right on cue!" "What are you talking about?" "By the way, I'm not little Missy, and you're definitely, not a good sir! And that sir--without the good--is a roadblock up ahead, oh no, no, no, there's no need for that, you see, the flashing lights behind us too sir. I'm Sheriff Darcy and we caught wind of your operations when we were setting up our operations going after the ALIEN cartel that is actually ... ABOVE our borders. They prize human trafficking as one of their negotiable trades and two of our operatives got into your truck ... oh don't worry, they'll be your chauffeur, that police paddy wagon is for you, and your friends from the diner who's waiting for you in the back. Our counterparts in law enforcement, theirs--the ALIENS--have got a different approach to their penal laws, whenever their sacred laws are broken it is an automatic death sentence you see--it's sort of difficult to say to you but our operatives and those you had trafficked what YOU thought was across our borders but now YOU know that you were trafficking ABOVE our borders, well they agreed to return the hostages and agreed to accept you and your friends at the diner as a peace offering but they have no facility to accommodate humans, particularly for space travel--none of you would last a day. The trade was necessary for us to retrieve our righteous souls and to give to them, the ALIEN cartel from ABOVE our borders, YOU, and the rest of your wicked and evil operatives. I thought YOU said that they wouldn't be able to accommodate us for the space travel ahead! Your actions were done out of malice and pure evil which is an abomination that will spread like wildfire amongst their kind, they've issued a death sentence for all of you. What is the manner of death? Well ... the ALIENS will consume all of you. WHAT! I thought we were an abomination, pure evil to their kind, and now they going to put our wicked souls into theirs. Well, they'll probably think of evil as some sort of seasoning and, abomination as some sort of spicy kick. They're coming for all of you, be ready, we've just received your take-out orders ... Epilogue: "A story I gift to those who lived during an asceticism period whose writings/right wings, would not have seen the light of day. There is a gory element that I presented as a buildup towards a sort of twisted point I hereby address--sadly--to the bestilled existence of a sedated society. Serling and Roddenberry may not have risen to such writings as mine... albeit, they'd certainly welcomed the freedoms it presented. If beings/ALIENS from a remote part of space, capable of constructing and traveling, as well as, communicating--lastly, having a hankering for consuming human flesh. Now the twist, same dinner table, a charbroiled sirloin, fried chicken, prime rib and lobster, a McDonald's cheeseburger, and a vanilla ice cream cone. The ALIENS then see one of their ancestors being consumed by a human. I hereby honor, Serling and Roddenberry and the many whose freedoms were denied their true expressions." ... by the Poet.
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