Looking Out: Finishing a tale of alien abduction
“So this alien slides out of the flying saucer and comes slithering up to me…” says Lyle Pratt.
He and Earl “Bucky” Buckmaster and I are having coffee in our usual café.
“Hold on, Lyle,” says Bucky. “Is this the start of a joke or are you telling us how you were abducted by aliens?”
“And how they removed your heart and replaced it with a new one?” I chime in.
“Anyhow, this alien slithers out of the flying saucer, which by now is not flying but sitting on the ground. As he gets closer I can smell…” says Lyle.
“Lyle, for the love of Zaphod Beeblebrox, if you’re going to tell a UFO joke, at least tell us what part of Area 51 you were visiting.”
“Not a joke,” says Lyle. “It’s a true story. As I was saying…”
“It would explain why his ears have gotten bigger and all pointy,” I say.
“And the green skin,” adds Bucky.
“Geez! Will you guys shut up and let me tell my story?” says Lyle.
Just then, Sarah, the owner, comes to the table with a coffee pot.
“Thanks, Sarah,” says Bucky. “I’ll take a refill but don’t give Lyle any more. He’s not feeling well.”
“Oh, poor Lyle!” says Sarah as she fills all three cups. “You don’t have to drink it, sweetie. Can I bring you some hot chocolate?”
“I’m fine,” says Lyle. “You should stick around and hear my story, though.”
“I can’t, honey. The boss will fire me if I don’t keep moving,” says Sarah.
“I thought you are the boss,” says Lyle.
“I own the place, but the cook tells me what to do,” says Sarah.
“I thought you are the cook,” says Lyle.
“I am, but ever since I got abducted by aliens, I have two different brains. One good, one evil,” she says, walking away. Sarah has an uncanny ability to listen to every conversation in the place, all at the same time.
“For crying out loud!” says Lyle. “I’m just trying to tell you guys about a terrible experience, and all I get is flack.”
“It’s alien flack,” says Bucky, pretending to shoot Lyle with a pretend ray gun “Wooooooooeeeeeeee! Wooooooooeeeee!”
“That should help clear your mind, Lyle,” I say.
“He’s 10-feet long and covered with what look like cast-iron scales, and he says to me…” says Lyle, speeding into his tale.
“He? How did you know it was a he?” asks Bucky.
“He had a very deep voice and a big Adam’s apple,” says Lyle. “He clears his throat and spits on the ground, then says…”
“What color was his spit?” I ask.
“Shut up. And it was plaid, if you must know,” says Lyle.
“Plaid isn’t a color,” says Bucky.
“It was green, yellow and magenta plaid,” says Lyle. “With red paisley swirls.”
“Did he capture you?” I ask.
“I’m getting to that, for crying out loud! Now, if you’ll just let me finish…”
“Let me take that dirty plate. Are you ready for your checks,” says Sarah, appearing at the table again. “And what’s this plaid and paisley stuff all over your plate?”
“We’re ready for our check,” says Bucky. “Put them all on one. Lyle’s paying.”
“I will if you’ll let me finish my story,” says Lyle.
“This should cover it,” I say, as both Bucky and I drop $20 bills on the table and stand up.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I hear Lyle mutter as we walk away.
“Good story,” says Bucky.
“Great story,” I say as we walk out the door together.
Jim Whitehouse lives in Albion.
This article originally appeared on The Daily Telegram: Jim Whitehouse: Finishing a tale of alien abduction
