by Bob'n Around
Invisible matters of the mind turned real into the written word.
|My husband, George, hates undocumented aliens. I suppose, by this time, Earthlings down south mostly do, Me included. They make my skin crawl. Plain sneaky, the way they arrived, all touristy like while hovering in their flying saucers over major capitals of the world.
George was one of the suckers. Top scientist back then. Made his fortune drew me in like a magnet the way he sold them aliens souvenirs for their miracle drug curing all manner of ills. Turned a blind eye to what the slugs looked like, but that was the the ripple before the tide.
Once we was discovered and word got out, the next invasion by the flying insects seemed easier to take, at first. Looking kind of like pint sized winged fairies, who’d of guessed they were stellar real-estate developers. George got in on that act quick as sin.
Speaking five languages the way he does, he picked up the buzz of their lingo, became human liaison for renters taking alien tourists in for vacation stays of growing indeterminate length. I got used to having anything I wanted money could buy. The sex with George was never better after he got anointed Earth’s liaison with our welcome invaders of soon every kind.
My favorite was the alien form of intelligent Marsupials. Best baby sitters you could ever want to find. Our nanny for baby George Junior couldn’t have been finer. We ended up, after a few trials with a fine butler looking reptile but born to the task. Our gardner may have looked like a plant but those roots could nurture and tame any weed infestation before it hardly began. And make flowers grow?
George, he was getting wise to the fact that on a cosmic level, mother nature had somewhere allowed just about any form of life to assume a dominant position on one planet or another. We was a curiosity, the singular only ball revolving around a sun where apes leaped the genetic quagmire to become the smartest piece of furniture on the block.
George’s knack for managing things turned impressive to our visiting folk. More responsibility was placed in his able hands, all Earth, as it were. I thought we humans had become sophisticated urbanites of the known universe. George and I became traveling consultants welcome most any place.
Talk about culture shock. The naked apes on other solar systems ranked about as high as feces could be thrown. The outer looking model of ourselves was the same but these existential remote relatives were accepted as the scourge of the universe. Everywhere we encountered them, they were back biting, evil, ruthless, sons of bitches to the core.
Kind of depressing. Culture shock like that. George studied on the matter. Behind my back, seems he fell for the ardent advances of a conniving pale blonde Grecian looking beauty with a heart as black as bile. Any woman on earth could have seen what she was to her inner core with but one sideways glance.
George, with his diplomatic immunity, sneaked her as an illegal alien onto our saucer’s storage hold. The rest is history.
I got introduced formal like. This ‘Gladys’ was George’s new human personal secretary, supposedly born and raised in North Carolina. I had the fight of a lifetime on my hands, she’d dug her claws into George so deep, he didn’t know which way was up or down. Slathering, numbnut fool.
Gladys, more and more, took over George’s duties with him slack jawed, drooling, no minding at all. That undocumented alien from another world fooled me, thinking she was as human as you or me. I guess I was under her nefarious spell as well.
Other worlds were happy to unload more undocumented aliens as she took power. Gladys might not have brains but she had an insurmountable amount of natural guile. Dumb blonde done at its best. Had George do her dirty work for her when hook came to crook. He was happy to oblige.
He didn’t come to his senses until Gladys kicked him out of her bed, in favor of some mindless musclehead illegal alien with an equal overpowering libido, become her personal secretary. George come crawling back a shriveled up and wasted version of himself, all nerves a tremble worth no good to anyone else or himself.
We’d been ousted from Earth’s governing palace. Course that ditz of a blonde couldn’t wrangle a deal on her own. We became infested with illegal aliens, our planet the cesspool of the galaxy. The tourist trade floundered, visitor’s searching better climes.
Left to ourselves, George come back to his senses over time, with my and little George Junior’s help. We still got illegal aliens amongst us. Wars, insane impulsive murders, all kinds of new forms of pestilence combined. They taught our family a thing or two.
The one good thing about mother nature is she eventually strikes a balance. Seems other worlds need the deadler variety of naked apes as part of the natural order of things. Parts of insects, plants, marsupials and the others began devolving to meet the demand.
Now George isn’t like any other space conqueror. His business sense rises above the rest. Anyone acts like one of our form of illegal aliens gets rented out off world with a proven prison record revealing their the best of the worst. News of how bad naked apes can be abounds anywhere they may be found.
It’s not like we’re the center of the universe in terms of popularity but we have found and owned our place. George and I keep Gladys and her consort illegal alien under our thumbs as consultants. Our scum of the earth are prized among all other worlds for keeping alien races and worlds on their toes.
Limited mass insurrections, fomenting reckless use of resources at its worst, the heaviest problems facing any culture can be studied and kept to a manageable underhanded scale. Nobody on this world or any other wants to acknowledge there's a necessary need for scavengers like we provide.
Still, illegal aliens have their place in maintaining cosmic order. It's George's job to make sure that is done right.