The Arrival
"The divorce just about killed me. Eleven years of what I believed to be wedded bliss and then she takes off with some schlep she met at the godforsaken post office of all places. Somehow she still managed to get everything - the house, the Benz, even the dog. So I quit my job and moved out here to live in the Smokies. Just me and my tent and the squirrels. Sir, what I'm about to tell you now is gonna blow your mind.
Every October I start preparing for winter. I visit the nearby town and scrounge for blankets, clothes and whatever else I need to keep warm. Cut some extra wood, bury jars of berries I picked over the summer and so on. I can still remember that fateful day as clearly as if it was yesterday. October 21st, 1999. At exactly 2:03 pm (yes, I managed to salvage my watch from the divorce) as I was chopping my last bit of wood I heard a strange noise from above the trees. Now I had spent four years in the Air Force and I can tell you that this was no sound of an aircraft that I'd ever heard. A strange high-pitched whirring combined with a steady, rhythmic, ping. That's the best way I can describe it. Anyway, I followed the sound until it stopped, about a hundred yards from my campsite. I never saw an aircraft of any sort. It's long been my contention that the invaders had used some sort of cloaking device making their ship invisible to the human eye. In any case, what I saw next has haunted me for years. Two dark figures approached from a nearby crag. I saw them just as clearly as I see you before me now. To be frank, these aliens didn't look aliens at all, at least not like anything out of Star Trek or Star Wars or even out of Roswell. They were tall, thin and for all intents and purposes looked a lot like me. No red, glowing eyes. No green skin. All at once they turned in my direction. One of them spoke:
'Hey you, got a cigarette?'
Imagine my surprise (and I might add, disappointment). Here I was privileged to have first contact with an alien species and the first thing he asks me is: 'Got a cigarette?' Whatever happened to: 'Take me to your leader,' or 'We have come in the name of peace?' I called out:
'Uh, sorry dude, uh, I don't smoke. Can I come out?'
He answered: 'Come.'
Now this was no ordinary: 'Come.' When he spoke it his voice got real deep like and loud. The sound echoed throughout the mountains like this, 'Come, come, come...' It was precisely at that moment that I knew this would be no ordinary encounter. They were aliens alright. As I exited the woods and entered the clearing where they stood I got a better look at them. Worse yet, I got a sniff of 'em. Something wasn't quite right, to be sure. A sulfurous, rank odor emanated from them and just about knocked me over. Impulsively I got down on my knees and started begging for mercy. I explained that I was just an average earthling, down on his luck to boot and could really use a break. The one that had said 'come' looked at the other, and then... and then... they busted out laughing! This was no mere chuckle mind you. Before I knew it they were rolling on the ground telling each other that their bellies hurt. I stood up suddenly feeling a bit more confident that I might actually survive this thing which apparently moved them to get up and to regain their composure. What they said next still chills me to the bone. The smaller one who hadn't spoken a word yet said:
'Look, all we really want is your beer and then we're outta here.'
I replied: 'But... I ... haven't got any.'
He said, 'Um, you don't understand fella. Let me say this slowly: We are here to take all the b-e-e-r. By the time we're done there will be no beer left on your planet earth. You see, we have been picking up your amusing beer commercials from space for some time. Now, we have nothing like beer where we come from...'
At this point the other alien cuts in, 'Kudos, kudos to your marketing geniuses for creating a need in us that at one time did not exist. We now MUST have this thing called beer.'
The other picks back up, '(Ahem) As I was saying, we have no beer on Salos and so we are here to take all of your Miller Lite...'
The first alien cuts in again, 'Less filling.' The other retorts back, 'Taste's great.' 'Less filling.' 'Taste's great.' This goes on for thirty minutes. Finally they break out laughing and then it's back on the ground again. I think aloud to myself, 'What is this madness? Have I gone utterly insane? Surely this is a dream. Wake up now, wake up; one, two, three...'"
"Jim? Jim, who are you talking to now?" asks the nurse.
"Why, I'm... I'm talking to Sam Dumpty from National Geoplastic Magazine," I reply.
"So... you're talking to an egg. Great. Look Jim," she says, "there's no one there. There is never anyone there. It's all in your mind. There is no such thing as aliens. No Salos. And I just had a Miller Lite with my boyfriend at dinner last night. Please, get over it. Have you taken your meds today? Now I'm going to get Dr. Soong to come and make sure you're okay. Be back shortly."
"Well, there you have it Mr. Dumpty. The true, unabridged tale of what happened to me on October 21st, 1999. I'd swear to it on my mother's grave. And we both know that little miss nursey-nursey lied when she said she had a beer last night. Earth has been beer-less since 1999. No one has ever been able to explain the sudden disappearance of kegs, bottles, and cans of ale from this planet. No one but me (sigh). And for my troubles they've got me locked up in this stinking asylum. But I know you believe me. You do believe me, don't you?"
"Detective Sam Dumpty here, part-time reporter for National Geoplastic magazine. As I sit here at this bar contemplating whether or not I should even bother to turn this crazy story in to my editor, I'm reminded of a simple truth. Every time I order a Miller Lite from the barkeep I get a Dr. Pepper instead, with apologies. Been that way for years, about twenty years to be exact...
Anyhoo, this is Sam Dumpty, detective (and reporter) extraordinaire, signing off!"
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