Search Me…

Search me-image-40

They were big and beefy and incredibly strong.  They were aggressive, pointing their weapons everywhere and smelled like belligerent fear as they shouted and snarled.  They wore plate armor like insects but they were pasty and bony underneath with beady eyes and a ridiculous tuft of hair on their tiny heads – like hand puppets.  They were most definitely …ALIEN!

When they landed their starship in my back yard and demanded, “Take me to your leader!”  I was so stunned – so baffled that I just froze and blinked at them.  Their exasperated captain tried again, “Where are your leaders?!” with a sneer of contempt, as if I was a child.  I simply shrugged and said, “Search me…”

Now, I don’t know if they misunderstood me or just had a REALLY strange sense of humor…..but being held down in a medical lab with a gnarly probe approaching my buttocks is taking things waaaaaay too literally.

***This one reminds me of my last colonoscopy…And can anybody explain what the deal is with Aliens and anal probes?  Every single time; anal probe – anal probe – anal probe.  They’re almost as bad as the CIA (though, at least Aliens ask intelligent questions).  This was the (lucky) 13th cover John did for Analog/Asimov’s Magazines.  -Marsha 

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