How To Stop an Alien Invasion and Lose 5 Pounds
Having made contact with extraterrestrials on several occasions, including twice in the bathroom of a Jiffy Lube, I am one of the few people qualified to speak about how to prevent an alien invasion, along with Stephen Baldwin. Yet, my phone has not exactly been ringing off the hook. I’ve sent numerous letters to government officials about how to put the kibosh on a Martian takeover but they’ve fallen on deaf eyes. Sometimes the letters even get me in trouble and placed on special “lists” (that’s the last time I include a handful of white flour to a congressman to ask if it looks “mealy”). Even when I talk about preventing alien invasions at parties I’m met with blank stares and questions like, “Who are you?” and “How did you get in here?”
So, for posterity, in case I am killed this weekend while illegally bungee-jumping over Niagara Falls in an attempt to win the heart of a woman who basically doesn’t even know I exist, I am going to write down everything I know about how to stop an alien invasion and publish it here. I also happen to know how to lose five pounds quick and easy so I’ll be including something about that, too.
My qualifications
If you’re going to believe what I have to say about stopping an alien invasion, you’re probably going to want to know my qualifications first. OK, fine, Captain Nosey, I’ll tell you. Although I miss the days when you could just take a person on the internet asking for your credit card information at their word.
Well, it all started when I was first abducted by an extraterrestrial spaceship about five years ago. I was working as a manager at a Wendy’s and one night a beam of light started scooping up my customers, which made it difficult to take their orders. They’d be like, “I’ll have a WhoppAHHHH.” Yeah, AND? Fries? A drink? It was frustrating.
The light finally stopped at me and appeared to “sniff” for a minute before shuddering and moving on, leaving me standing there like a jerk while everyone else got taken. I followed the light around the restaurant and asked it to give me another chance. It tried to ignore me but I was persistent and kept saying, “Me! Me! Pick me!” Eventually I heard a loud “sigh” from above and felt myself get absorbed into the light. I blinked and suddenly found myself on a spaceship, surrounded by chrome! It was boring.
Another harsh beam of light was pointed at my face so I couldn’t quite see my captors as they began their interrogation of me. “You don’t have to take your clothes off,” they kept saying, over and over. “That’s not part of this. Please! Leave those on!”
When I was finally naked and comfortable they asked me, all speaking as one voice, about who I was, where I came from, why I kept winking at them, etc. But it was clear they were just kind of going through the motions. Softball questions, you know? I wanted them to get to know me — the real me. But every time I started talking about my first crush or my music they flashed a big neon sign that said, “Wrap it up.”
Anyway, before I knew it the interview was over and they said they had to “bring out the next guest.” I told them I could stick around for it but they said no, I didn’t have to do that. I said I’d be happy to but they said no, really, you’re free to go.
Then I stood up and started walking around the ship going, “What’s this do?” They said, Hey, don’t touch that. You ever tell a toddler not to do something? That’s how I felt right then. Like the toddler. Especially when I found a big red button that really made them sweat when I hovered my finger over it and said, “What? I’m not touching it. Am I touching it? Nope. See? There’s space.”
One of them tried to use some kind of a laser on me but all it did was make me go to the bathroom. I told them that didn’t phase me, that was normal for me. They started to plead with me, said they’d give me anything I wanted. “Oh really?” I said. “Even a diamond ring?” Yes, they said. Huh. I might be onto something here, I thought.
They flew over to a Kay Jewelers and me and I think four of the aliens beamed down into it. The aliens still had their big light with them so I couldn’t make out their features.
“What’s the occasion?” the jeweler asked with a cheeky grin when we walked up to the counter together.
“They abducted…my heart,” I said, covering for the aliens like a pro. And if I’m being honest, I was indeed starting to develop feelings for them. Strange how love works.
“Well,” said the jeweler, “before we begin I’m going to have to request you put some clothes on.”
“And I’m going to have to deny your request,” I said. “You see, we’re in a terrible rush.”
“Fair enough, sir, fair enough,” the jeweler said, shaking his head in understanding. “I was middle aged once, too, you know. Now, let’s find your perfect ring!”
We went through about 15 options before I finally found my dream ring. Not that the aliens were any help. Every ring I held up they’d say, “Yes, that one. It’s great. Can we go?”
Then came the fitting. The jeweler said I had surprisingly small hands for a man of my size. I asked if that comment was necessary and he said it wasn’t.
Finally, it was time to pay. I bowed to the aliens and said, “You’re up.”
“Up for what?” they said.
“For paying for my zazzy new bling?” I said.
“Huh?”
I took a deep breath. I knew there’d be a hiccup. I proceeded to explain currency, exchange, stocks and bonds, Wall Street, BitCoin, Moneyball, The Money Pit, Tom Hanks, etc., to the extraterrestrials. When I was done, their alien heads were swimming. The jeweler said I did a bad job explaining. I asked if that comment was necessary and he said it was.
“We do not possess this Earthling concept of ‘giving,’” the aliens said. Yeah, no shit; they couldn’t even give me a friggin break. Their love language was probably something like “acts of service” (the worst one).
“How about the concept of stealing?” I said. “Do you know that one?”
“That one we know.”
I pushed the jeweler and grabbed an armful of rings. “Haul ass!” I screamed. “Haul ass!!” Then I tripped over a wire and blacked out.
Lessons learned
I woke up in a cornfield, probably the worst kind of field after football and medical. I looked up and saw the familiar harsh light shielding my alien friends, who were once again standing before me in a judgy kind of way. There was a noticeable lack of a breeze and I realized my clothes were back on. “You bastards,” I said. “What have you done to me?”
“We put your clothes back on.”
“You’ll pay for this.”
“We’ve learned much from you, human,” they said. “More than we would have liked to. The most important lesson is that we never want to come back here and risk encountering you again.”
“Oh my god,” I said. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“Uhhh,” they said after a while. “Sure.”
“One thing!” I pleaded as they prepared to beam away. “At least let me look upon your faces. Leteth me know the visage of thee ones whom gotest away.”
“No,” they said as they were absorbed back into their ship, but I think I got a glance at one of their shins, and it looked sexy as hell.
I stood up and looked at my watch. Three years had passed since I was taken. I wondered if my Wendy’s was still running. I wanted to feel bitter about my experience, but I couldn’t, especially when I put my hands in my pockets and realized they were stuffed with diamond rings, each one shinier than the stars, especially in areas with a lot of light pollution.
So, you want to make extraterrestrials run away? That’s easy. Open up your heart and try to get close to them. Ask them to commit to something beyond themselves. Chances are they’ll scram, and you’ll be left picking up the diamonds, wondering if they ever see a naked guy with little hands and think of you. But is such a hopeless love — even if it saves the world — worth the leap?, you ask. Maybe. I’ll find out for sure this weekend at Niagara Falls.
How to lose five pounds
Unfortunately, it turns out this is impossible to do. I am sorry I misled you.
