KNOCK! KNOCK! “Open the door, please!”
“I’m sorry but I don’t talk to door-to-door solicitors, even little green ones with antennas sticking out of their heads. Besides, I gave at the office.”
“Hold it right there, earthling. We aren’t here to sell you anything. We are from the planet Krutopia. In case you aren’t familiar with the place, we are just a few light years south of Canopus and about three parsecs from Pluto. I am sure your Ambassador to Outer Space Cynthia McKinney has told you all about us. She comes by occasionally on her way to Jupiter. We are thinking about invading earth and wondered if you might tell us a little bit about your planet.”
“Why would you invade us?”
“It’s a quality of life issue. Things aren’t well in Krutopia these days. We’ve got a lot of illegal aliens sneaking across the galaxy and moving onto our planet. They don’t speak Krutopian but insist that we learn to speak their language. When we tell them they need to get a license to drive their UFOs, they get all bent out of shape and complain to the weenies at the Krutopian Civil Liberties Union. We tried to build a star shield to keep them out but they just keep coming.”
“I understand. We have the same problem on earth.”
“Oops! That’s not good. OK, how about your weather? On Krutopia, we have places where it snows 10 months a year and all the buildings are rusted.”
“Same thing here. Let me ask you: On your planet, do people move from where it snows 10 months a year and all the buildings are rusted into the garden spot of Krutopia and then sniff that the locals talk funny and aren’t very sophisticated because they like sweet tea and grits?”
“Absolutely! How did you know?”
“Just a wild guess.”
“How about recreation? We work hard on Krutopia but we like to kick back and enjoy ourselves when the lunar week is over. What do you guys do for entertainment on your planet?”
“Well, in some places on earth people get their jollies by blowing themselves to pieces and trying to blow up others with them.”
“Good grief. Why on Krutopia would anybody do that?”
“It seems that they don’t have anything better to do with their time. They can’t dance and they don’t play Donkey Kong so they just blow themselves to pieces. It’s a little hard to explain.”
“Maybe we should look at invading SMSS J031300.36-670839.3. As everyone knows, it is a remote star 6,000 light years from earth which we are beginning to think is almost too close. And while it is devoid of oxygen and nitrogen, it also doesn’t have a bunch of nut cases who go around blowing themselves to pieces. That makes it more desirable than getting mixed up with you weirdos.”
“I’ve always said it is hard to compete with SMSS J031300.36-670839.3.”
“Speaking of weirdos, on Krutopia we have strange beings that say one thing and do another. We call them politicians. Do you have anything like that on earth?”
“We are overrun with them. I don’t know about Krutopia, but around here they get a lot of money from special-interest groups and are wined and dined by lizard-loafered lobbyists at swank resorts but they swear it doesn’t affect how they vote.”
“Gadzooks! They say the same thing on Krutopia. They must all think we just fell off the space exploration truck. By the way, how do you choose your leaders?”
“We elect them. How about you?”
“So do we. That is another reason we are anxious to get out of Krutopia. Our only choice for the next Galactic Grandee is going to come down to a three-legged Martian or a transgender android named Caitlyn.”
“You are lucky. We will likely pick between a megalomaniac with orange hair and a woman who has all the integrity of a broomstick.”
“Earthling, I hate to tell you this but I think you guys are worse off than we are. Maybe you ought to consider invading us. Now if you will excuse us, we’d like to beat the traffic back to Krutopia. The Milky Way is usually stop-and-go around Cassiopeia. Thanks for your time.”
“Glad you stopped by. Safe travels and if you happen to see my friend, Ambassador to Outer Space Cynthia McKinney, please give her my regards. Tell her I think she is simply out of this world.”
You can reach Dick Yarbrough at yarb2400@bellsouth.net; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Georgia 31139; online at dickyarbrough.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dickyarb
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