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First Alien Encounter Concludes
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 The
aliens brought nothing with them. No cure for cancer,
no great insights into the universe, no way to sterilize liberals
without the ACLU making an issue out of it. "They didn't
even bring their own toiletries," says William Bennett, author of The Book of Virtues, "and now they're expecting
to live off our public services." The
landing site
for the spacecraft was abuzz with the media as
a ramp slid out
for the egress of whatever might emerge. Optimistic that beings
possessing such scientific knowledge would bring about heretofore only dreamed-of
social advances, the press corps was effervescent in anticipation of this historical milestone, the day when
acquisitive terrestrials met superior extraterrestrials. Even
the military personnel were lax in their posture, they, too, caught up
in the probability of aliens as peaceful beings akin to the invisible supreme. Then the
door opened. What stepped out
weren't ethereal beings speaking from another plane of existence.
Oh, no. Not at all. Instead, a creature humanoid
enough to recognize as a male walked timorously into the ramp,
wrestling in the breeze with a sheet of an aluminum foil-like material,
which was later revealed to be a map. A female clutched at the
crook of his arm. The visitors from
another planet had stopped to ask directions. Thus began the
first officially acknowledged close encounter of
a third kind. And it was anticlimactic from there.
After initial exchanges, the couple was whisked away in a jeep escorted by a military entourage to an undisclosed location. They were interrogated for weeks while scientists representing government contractors crawled all over the spacecraft, hoping to discover its advanced technology. After eight weeks the military held a press conference. It wasn't very exciting.  With the names of the aliens impossible to
vocalize, officials refer to the couple as "the Wootens," an
onomatopoeia for how the aliens refer to themselves, a sound similar
to that made by blowing over the opening of a jug. Mr. Wooten
had just retired and he and his mate were vacationing, heading for
what earth scientists identify as the Copeland Septet Galaxy Cluster,
when their positioning equipment failed. "The equipment had
been out a long, long time before Mr. Wooten noticed it," General
Abboid said, "so that when he did realize it, he was completely
and utterly lost." To make matters worse, a line in the spacecraft
sprung a leak, and a yet unidentified gas put them to sleep. Ironically,
the autopilot of the craft picked up on our SETI signals, which the
craft used as a homing beacon to earth. The craft had no weapons
of any kind, nor any intelligence-gathering technology. "The
spacecraft is analogous to our RVs, and the Wootens are a peaceful
couple who made an intergalactic wrong turn. It's very disappointing
to think that our first contact with aliens was accidentally initiated
by wayward vacationers instead of intentionally arranged by an alien scientific
elite."The Wootens know nothing about the spacecraft they piloted, "just as many of us fail to understand how our common automobile works," the general said. On his planet, Mr. Wooten had been an accountant, and Mrs. Wooten was a manager in a greeting card shop. Mrs. Wooten said, "I guess they'll have replaced me by now. I was supposed to be back at work some two hundred years ago." She emitted something that sounded like the horn on a foreign car, which we assumed was a laugh. Mr. Wooten makes a similar sound when he's amused, but his is like a truck horn. Scientists expressed directly to the Wootens the disappointment with them, and Mr. Wooten became defensive. He said, "I might be just an accountant, but we Hissians" — another onomatopoeia — "are very good accountants. We haven't made an error in over 6,000 of your earth years." And the last error was just a question of a transposition, he clarified, which was quickly spotted before any consequence. Immigrant Watchtower was the only media present representing the concerned militia members of the United States, and we had a couple of questions for General Abboid. "How can you be certain that these two immigrunts aren't representing the first wave on an invasion?" we asked. The general hawed as he searched for an answer, then said, "Well, I hate to put it bluntly in fear of insulting our amiable visitors but they seem sort of . . . dumb." As a follow-up question, we asked, "But how can you be sure that this isn't part of their act, some ploy to quell our suspicions as they gather data to send back to their home planet." The general didn't hesitate this time, and said, "If they're smart enough to act this dumb while masking superior intelligence, we haven't got a chance against them. So to regard them suspiciously would have no real advantage." The question remained, what to do with the aliens now that they're here, and useless? Some scientists wanted to "put them to sleep" — as they euphemistically refer to it in veterinary practice — and check out their anatomy, but, as usual, liberal human rights advocates stepped in to prevent it. As a result, because the Wootens aren't yet ready to assimilate themselves into society, the government provided them with a suburban home and a generous welfare entitlement, an amount commensurate with their financial status on Hiss. We at the Immigrant Watchtower are editorially in full support of cutting them open, as it would be beneficial on two fronts. First, we would acquire essential anatomical knowledge of these creatures for later use if the couple turn out to be the first wave on an invasion. Second, if they are indeed a couple of scouts playing dumb, with their subsequent deaths, the knowledge these potential spies have gained about us will perish with them. Not to mention the relief it would provide for the welfare system.  To
quell citizens rightfully alarmed, the government has done everything
in its power to make them seem normal. But they aren't at all
normal. "They worship some bug-eyed thing," the Reverend Jerry
Falwell said, "and we Americans know that there is only one true God.
If they want to be accepted as real Americans,
the Wootens must accept Jesus Christ as their personal savior."
Immigrant Watchtower wholeheartedly agrees,
as does Pat Robertson. "God has handed us a wonderful opportunity
here to spread His Truth throughout the universe," Robertson said.
Ministers pondering whether the creature the Wootens worshipped
wasn't some reincarnated version of Jesus were immediately chastised
as unfaithful in the Word, and they immediately recanted. As they await the enlightenment that must come before they're even considered for real acceptance and citizenship, the Wootens have moved into their suburban home in Bethesda, Maryland, and have had their hair done according to human trends, again in a vain attempt to fit in. Mrs. Wooten says she's eager for employment, for she feels that to be properly assimilated, she must be in commerce with the society. Mr. Wooten is content to sit at home and draw a government check while he watches talk shows like Jerry Springer and Montel. "You have very interesting television shows," he said. "I don't much care for that newsy stuff and the channels like Discovery and TLC. But Jerry Springer alone is worth the price the government is paying for my cable." And the government could be paying for it a long, long time. Hissians live for hundreds of years, say researchers, and they are resistant to radiation. Like cockroaches. The neighbors differ in their opinions on the Wootens. Most people think their suburban trendiness gives them a freakish look, making them harder to ignore than if they would just be themselves. "You have these really normal hairstyles and this conservative fashion sense," says Mrs. Rita Peeps, "then you have these freaky eyes, like insects trying to disguise themselves as humans." Another neighbor echoes this sentiment. "I don't know," Agnes Cummings said, "about dressing them up like that. I mean, I think they'd be more acceptable if they dressed according to their own customs. Shouldn't they be, like, smooth-headed or something? With nice long fingers, and wearing silvery jumpsuits? As they're now presenting themselves, they look like deformed humans." A few of the neighbors expressed a more accepting view. Betsy Stone said she was so glad for the aliens, that of all the places in the universe to land, they managed to land in the United States, the most wonderful country in the galaxy, "because we have more freedom here than anyone, anywhere. God bless them, I say." Another neighbor said sententiously, "The only people here who aren't immigrants are the Native Americans." We here at Immigrant Watchtower don't feel that comfortable with them, and the ready acceptance of the aliens is just further evidence that the United States has grown soft. We say, cut them open! Our national security is more important than intergalactic warm fuzzies. — Major Daniel "Bark" Barkus Klemper, Mississippi Militia, Hancock County |
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Index of Recovered Documents
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