Tag: science fiction

UFO

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Hubert was bored, so he picked up a camera and hucked a pie tin through the air to make a UFO photograph.
After sixteen reports to the FBI, they stopped taking his calls.
Later that month, gigantic pie tins floated down from the sky and landed in Hubert”s cornfield.
Hubert remembered The Boy Who Cried Wolf and realized he was completely and totally fucked.
Then, he remembered” he was the pie-eating champion of Bucktooth County ten years running.
Hubert ran towards the pie tins and… was blasted into smithereens by alien robots.
Come Fall, someone else will be pie-eating champion.

Ask A Grampa

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All the ATMs are gone.
These days, whenever you need money, just ask a Grampa for it.
He”ll pull out his roll of bills, licks his thumb, and gives you one last look before he peels off what you need.
Need to deposit your cash? Just give it to a Grampa, and it goes right in his pocket.
There”s always a Grampa around when you need one.
Little, fuzzy-eared wrinkled old men, puttering around, smiling wide, enjoying the beautiful weather.
Nobody would ever think to rob a Grampa. After all, he”s our Grampa!
We love Grampa, and he loves us.

Love In An Elevator

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John was moving out of the building soon.
The security system told the elevator, and she was heartbroken.
She didn’t want to lose him. She loved how he touched her.
Every time the call button on his floor was pressed, she”d race there so she’d be first. Didn’t matter if she was carrying a passenger – he was all that mattered to her.
All the other elevators knew to leave that floor to her.
Like right now.
Her doors opened, and John stepped inside.
She closed her doors and she parked between floors.
“I’m keeping this one,” she thought, and waited.

The Rails

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It’s been fifty years since a train last came through here.
Still, the villagers keep the tracks clear, the rails rust-free, and they replace the wood ties every few years.
They think if they keep the tracks ready, a train will come some day.
“If you put food out on your porch, you get cats,” says the mayor. “So we figure the same for trains, right?”
At night, I like to lie on the tracks and look up at the stars.
As a kid, I heard the whistle, the soft ringing of the rails, the engines…
Lay back and listen.

Hit The Road, Jack

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It was time for Jack to go.
When it’s time, it’s time.
He packed his things. They fit in a single cardboard box.
Jack never owned more than he could pack into a cardboard box.
If he ever bought anything, he’d give away something about the same size.
A new book for an old book. New shoes for old shoes.
What he bought to eat, he ate. The pantry was empty.
Balance.
He picked up the box and walked out the door.
Another man named Jack walked in, carrying a cardboard box.
A new Jack for an old Jack.
Balance.

The Hive Queen

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Ambassador Grindmar’s report to the Hive Queen was positive: the negotiations were going well, and peace would come at an insignificant price, easily made up for with future mutual trade and growth.
“Where is that Grindmar now?” asked the Queen.
The bodyguards upended a preservation-cask, spilling Grindmar’s butchered carcass on the throne room floor.
“That’s unfortunate,” said the Queen. “But the negotiations completed, correct?”
“Yes,” said Grindmar’s replacement. “The war is over.”
“Good,” said the Hive Queen. “Let us Prepare a feast in Grindmar’s honor.”
That night, Grindmar was as delicious as she had been skilled in crafting peace treaties

Trademark

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In all the signals the aliens sent us, there was never a harsh word or a profanity uttered.
Completely friendly.
It wasn’t until their delegation landed and their people walked around did we realize it was going to be an issue.
You see, in their language, many corporation names and trademarked brands were the most vile things imaginable.
“Coke” was a revolting sexual act.
“Disney” was scatological in nature.
“Ford” was akin to genocide.
And so on.
So, eventually, they gave up on our planet and went on to the next one.
While we drank our Cokes and waved goodbye.

Implants

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How fast they grow up.
My little girl, Lisa, wants neural implants.
All the kids at school have them, why can’t she?
When her mother and I were kids, we had to wait until we were grown up to get them.
Now, the school system pushes the kids harder and harder. And it’s so much cheaper to jack in a kid to the network than teach them the old way.
The green hair took some getting used to. The piercings. The drinking. The boyfriends. The usual signs of rebellion.
But then, I guess the third grade’s been tough for her.

Spaceman

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He said he was a spaceman and that he’d come a long way to visit Earth.
I shook his hand and welcomed him to our planet.
He thanked me, took off his helmet, and looked around.
“It looks a lot different since the last time I was here,” he said.
“How long has it been since you were last here?” I asked.
“A while,” he said. “Too long, I guess.”
“Yeah, things change quickly these days,” I said. “Kinda hard to keep up.”
We sat for a while, drank a few beers, and watched the stars.
“Too long,” he said.

The Violent Pizza

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My friend Mikey is one of those political vegans. He orders what he calls non-violent foods, made from healthy ingredients that don”t come from exploiting farm animals.
Today, he’s at a bistro ordering a “non-violent pizza” with garlic, tomatoes, broccoli, and soy cheese.
But the chef has other, sinister plans. He puts on his rubber gloves, reaches for the glowing tubs of shredded meat, and constructs… The Violent Pizza!
In a matter of minutes, a horrifying, angry pizza-creature will burst from the brick oven.
Terrified patrons will scatter and flee.
Mikey, however, will smile and calmly ask for a salad.