Aliens are among us

They’re taking over the world. They’re living and working among us.

The aliens of the Tranisiuc.

This is no drill. This is the real McCoy. I’m telling the world in the hope we can do something before it’s too late.

I saw this guy at the automatic outside bank teller tearing up his receipt into a hundred pieces. That’s how it started. I was suspicious. So I retrieved some of the pieces.

It was in code.

Written on the paper were the letters L R L R L R L R L R L R L

How did I know? It took me seven weeks to tape the pieces back together.

It was in code.

Ever since then, I have been followed. It happens time and again. If there are eight hundred cars in a parking lot, when I go to get in my car, the only other person in that lot getting into their car at the same time is the one right next to mine.

You think this is a coincidence?

Finally, I went to an old age home on an errand, and there, right there, one of the inmates who was off his medication spilled the beans, confessed the whole thing.

They’re among us! They’re taking over. I have the proof!

The Tranisiuc. A race of aliens from space who have been landing here and infiltrating our society by adopting our looks (I haven’t figured out how they adapt our looks, but I will).

That’s if they don’t get me first.

They’re posing in certain professions. That’s their scheme to take over. Jobs that allow them access to records, your records.

What professions you ask? Common ones. Blue and white collar jobs, like car mechanic. When you drop your car off to get it fixed, that gives the aliens plenty of time to rifle through your glove compartment, and check your checkbook, registration and other documents. The guy at my car repair place who won’t talk to me, and looks at me oddly when I ask him a simple question about whether he can get me a cheaper part for a repair.

He’s one of them. I know it.

Also, the woman in your school’s home room, the receptionist. She can quiz your kid about you. She has access to records on you. Where you live, what you do.

But these are just the advance guard. More are coming.

They are ferrying in agents from their mysterious planet. The other night I was enjoying a martini, and saw a diamond-shaped pattern of ten of their craft flying in a tight formation.

They were headed for San Francisco.

This is how they take over. A double of you shows up at your door, saying they’re working their way through college, and asks you if you want to buy an encyclopedia.

Before you can answer, Tranisiuc thugs step out from behind your shrubbery and whisk you away.

Your alien double takes your place.

You disappear. Forever.

The government knows all about it. They’ve been briefed. But to deflect panic among the general public, they’ve kept us in the dark.

What do the Tranisiuc want?

According to the guy at the rest home, they want to enslave us to get our oil reserves. It seems they have an incomplete anal system in which petroleum acts as a linking laxative, allows them to more completely go to the bathroom. They have enslaved other planets for their oil reserves.

Now, it’s our turn.

We must demand a full investigation by our government, and a pre-emptive strike against the Tranisiuc.

If I disappear. If the Tranisiuc kidnap me and take me to their planet….remember. I tried to warn you.

© Copyright 2006 by SammonSays.com

John Sammon is the author of two books and writes a weekly humor column you may access at http://www.Sammonsays.com.

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