ClickHole

You Were Abducted By Aliens. Will Anyone Ever Believe You?

In the alien energy beam, it’s warm blue.

The warm blue is gone. Your head is spinning. You look around.

You don’t know where you are. You are alone. Near you is a tree with a message scrawled into the trunk.

A message is carved into the tree:

“TELL THEM ABOUT THE ALIENS. YOU HAVE TO. YOU ARE GOD.”

You’ve carved your initials into tree trunks enough times in your life to recognize it immediately as your own handwriting.

But what does it mean?

So it’s settled. You have to tell someone about being abducted by the aliens who left you here alone.

You are in the woods at night.

It is nighttime in the woods.

You stick your arm up in the universal sign for “taxi.”

A cab immediately bursts from the forest. It screeches to a halt.

“Where to?”

You look to the sky, but nothing looks back. Not even aliens.

“Aliens! And here I thought I’d heard it all,” says the cabbie in disbelief. “Aliens! I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Aliens! Now what kind of a thing is that? Aliens!”

“Whatever you say, bud. Aliens! I swear,” says the cabbie. “Now, where was it you wanted to go?”

“You got it, pal!” says the cabbie, and he shoots off into the gloom.

“Sister’s apartment. Got it,” says the cabbie. He floors it, and pretty soon you’re out of the forest and surrounded by the lights of the city where your sister lives.

“So, aliens, huh?”

You begin describing small aliens…

“They were small.”

“Ah man,” says the cabbie. “Just some little small aliens, huh?”

He seems disappointed.

You begin describing the big aliens…

“They were big.”

“Wow! Big aliens,” says the cabbie. “Now we’re talking. I never heard of anything like that. What were the big aliens like? Did they have legs?”

You don’t tell the cabbie about aliens.

“That’s okay,” he says as he drives on. “Aliens! Gee. Makes sense, I guess. I never heard of nothing like aliens.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” says the cabbie. “Like I said, I never heard of anything like aliens before, but I was getting ready to believe you, especially if they had big, nice legs. Ones like you just described, though? Thanks but no thanks.”

The cabbie nods excitedly.

The cabbie is rapt with awe.

The cabbie signals you to keep going.

“Ah, the legs! I can picture it perfectly,” says the cabbie. “Aliens! I never heard of nothing like that before, but I can practically see those legs kicking, so nice and so big!”

The cab begins to swerve as the cabbie becomes more excited about how big the aliens’ legs were and is no longer paying any attention to the road.

“Yes, those big alien legs!” the cabbie shrieks as he completely loses control of the vehicle, which goes careering up a nearby volcano. His last words as the taxi plummets over the verge and into molten lava are, “I believe you!”

Someone believed that you were abducted by aliens, but at what cost? At the cost of dying in a volcano.

“Here we are! Sister’s apartment!” says the cabbie.

“This one’s on the house!” says the cabbie.

You’re outside your sister’s apartment complex, which is where your sister makes $1,111 per day working from home.

You super trust and super admire your sister. She is a master of logic and facts, and you know she’ll have a high bar for believing your story. You’ll need to remember a lot of good detail if you hope to convince her, and you’ll need to hurry, since your memory is already feeling a little fuzzy…

Your sister answers the door immediately. She invites you to sit down on the couch and hands you a microphone with the local news channel’s logo cube on it and asks you to tell her what happened.

“Aliens, eh?” your sister asks. “Abducted by?”

“Go ahead then,” says your sister. “Tell me a story about how aliens stole you from the atmosphere.”

You begin your story…

“The alien light dissipated. I was alone in the forest at night.

I decided to hail a cab, so I stuck out my arm in the universal sign for ‘taxi.’ Immediately, a cab burst from the forest.

‘Where you headed?’ the cab driver asked.”

“It was then I remember the cabbie got out of his cab.”

“So,” says your sister. “If I have your story right, you hailed a cab in the forest, and at some point the driver got out of the vehicle, and that’s all you remember.”

“The next thing I knew, he was back in the cab.

‘Where you headed?’ he asked me again.”

“I believe you about the driver getting out of the car, but I don’t think you saw any aliens,” says your sister. “I’m sorry, but that’s just how I feel.”

Your sister doesn’t believe that you were abducted by aliens. You have failed.

“The cabbie floored it, and pretty soon we were driving through the city on the way to my sister’s house, which is where you live.”

“When we arrived, I got out of the cab. The cabbie and I pointed at each other and waved goodbye in silence for three minutes.”

“Well, it certainly sounds like you took a taxi from the forest to my apartment, but I’m sorry to say I’m not convinced that you saw any aliens,” says your sister. “Is that really the whole story?”

“Then I don’t believe you saw any aliens.”

Ouch. You really bungled the story about how you were abducted by aliens. You are a miserable bard of the supernatural, and your sister didn’t believe you at all. You have failed.

Your sister settles in as you begin your alien testimony…

“It began like any other night. I thought it was Guy Fawkes Night, so I was in the forest setting off fireworks by myself.”

Boom! Good riddance, Sir Fawkes!”

“I lit the firework, stepped back, and looked up. I expected to see a sparkling skyrocket. What I saw was…”

“Yes, it was a skyrocket. My expectation was on the money.

I prepared to launch another firework into the sky. I loaded it up, sprinted back to safety, and looked to the sky again, this time expecting to see the gorgeous blue and purple firework known as the Butcher’s Delight…”

“I was right again. In the clear sky above me, I saw the firework called the Butcher’s Delight.

I set up the last firework, drew a match, and lit the fuse. It was a quick fuse, so the firework had already launched by the time I turned around and looked up, thinking I would see the unmistakeable multicolored burst of the Salute to James Buchanan firework. But is that what I saw, looking to the skies?”

“Yes, my sibling. The Salute to James Buchanan firework exploded as planned.

I applauded at the fireworks finale, congratulating myself on another successful night of fireworks even as I realized that I had bungled the Guy Fawkes date again.”

“Thank you,” says your sister. ”That was a very nice story about how you set off fireworks in the woods by yourself. And did you see any aliens while you were at it?”

“Well, I don’t believe you. You only told me about fireworks. I was expecting to hear more about aliens.”

You have not convinced your sister that you saw aliens.

“Okay,” says your sister. “It’s too bad nothing happened with aliens.”

You have not convinced her that you were abducted by aliens.

“A strange light appeared in the sky.”

“Science enveloped me.”

“When the light faded, I noticed that I was on a spaceship.

This part of the ship was clean and triangular.”

“Okay, I think I understand that you were on a spaceship,” says your sister. “Get to the aliens, though. How about some aliens in the story? When you were on the spaceship, were there any aliens that you saw?”

“My boss from my first job was there, and he was happy to see me.”

“Hmm,” says your sister. “It sounds to me like instead of encountering aliens, you had a dream about seeing your boss in space. Could that be right?”

You were trying to get your sister to believe that you had seen aliens, but all you managed to convince her of was that you had a dream about seeing your boss in space. You failed!

“There were aliens. A crowd of them. Huge, mighty creatures with skin like leather, hollow black eyes, and fearsome ivory fangs.”

“From among the aliens, a bigger alien stepped forth. I immediately realized this was their mayor of the aliens, as the alien was wearing a ceremonial mayoral jacket.”

“The mayor reached out and put the device over my eyes.

Suddenly, I could hear everything differently.”

“‘Welcome to my UFO,’ said the mayor. ‘You are now wearing language glasses. They allow you to understand anything that we say in our language, but be careful: It doesn’t work the other way around. If you want to learn how to talk like us, you’ll need to visit the Language Room and earn a diploma from the language guide.’”

“‘I don’t know what you’re saying, but I’m going to assume you asked who we are and what our purpose is.

‘To do that, I will need to tell you how the world works. In the universe, there are three kinds of things. First, there is us. We are called people. You can tell we’re people by inspecting our beautiful ivory fangs and big, thick legs. It’s obvious.

‘Second, there is God. God is special, secret, and far away, and there is only one of him. And we need to find him so that we can hold hands forever. We don’t know where God is, but we are looking for him.

‘Last, there is rocks. Rocks is everything else. Planets are rocks. Spaceships are rocks. Since you are not a person, you are probably also a rock…unless of course you are God. But that’s very unlikely and illegal.’”

“‘I still can’t understand you, but here’s the deal. I’m going to retreat to the observation deck and look at the majesty of space for a while. Go to the Language Room, learn our language, then come find me and we’ll see if we can find a use for you.’”

“In the spaceship’s deck, the crowd of aliens was talking excitedly about God and about the kinds of dances they would do together when they found him at last.”

“In the Language Room, a man was standing on a small, circular stage.

Above him hung a giant banner that read ‘LANGUAGE TUTORIAL FOR ENGLISH SPEAKERS.’”

“‘Welcome to this free alien-language tutorial for English speakers!’ said the man. ‘If you are viewing this in hologram form, it means our captors have determined I am no longer necessary, and that they have mercifully killed me and freed me from my didactic prison. Right on!’”

“He was not a hologram.

‘Ha! Not yet! I wish!’ he said. ‘Please sit down, and let’s get this presentation over with!’”

“‘Let’s begin with the most basic grammatical element of the language: the word CREV,’ the man began.

He gestured in the air beside him, where the word CREV appeared in red light.

‘CREV is a verb that roughly translates as “to be about to point at something.” If you want to communicate effectively with the aliens, it’s an extremely important word to know.’”

“‘For example, to announce that I am ready to point at something, I would begin with the word AMAMU, which means “me,” then I would say, “CREV,” then I would say what I am pointing at.’

‘Like this: AMAMU CREV MERYL STREEP.’”

“‘Hello!’ said Meryl Streep. ‘I am definitely a hologram.’”

“‘Very good. The next word we’re going to learn is important, but be aware that it is very politically charged. I am of course talking about the controversial word CREVV, and you must be very careful with it. It’s a slur that means “bad alien” and is extremely insulting to use in any situation but language tutorials.’”

“‘Here is an example of CREVV used in English context: Oh God. The aliens are killing me. Why did I say CREVV? Why didn’t someone teach me not to say CREVV? I shouldn’t have said CREVV.’”

“‘CREVV,’ I said.

No sooner had the word left my lips than a fearsome ivory fang had pierced my vulnerable stomach and sent everything inside me all over the place.”

You wrap your story about the aliens

“Ah. So…you died?” your sister asks.

“Hmmm. I…doubt it,” says your sister.

You told a story about how you got abducted by aliens and died, but your sister doesn’t seem convinced.

No one believed you! You failed.

“‘At this point, you’re almost conversant in the language. You just have a couple more words to get through. I am now teaching you the word JENCH. It means “God.”’”

“Finally, ‘The word BRIDE is the equivalent of the English word “um.” When you say the word BRIDE, it means that you have forgotten how to speak, and you are trying to remember.’”

“‘This concludes this first and only module of alien language for English beginners. Thank you for learning with me. Get out there, start speaking the language, and remember: If I’m not already dead, please find someone who will kill me!’

With that, the teacher handed me a diploma with some inscrutable symbols on it and ushered me out of the Language Room.”

“I was in the ship corridor to the south of the first room.”

“I was in a long hallway.”

“I was in a long hallway.”

“In the room I found an alien watching alien entertainment.”

“It was a long hallway.”

“It was a long hallway.”

“At the end of the corridor was a portal.”

“I was in a corridor on the alien ship. To the north I could see an alien guard.”

“Ahead of me was an entrance to a sacred alien shrine. I could see an alien praying nearby.”

“An alien priest was by the shrine.

‘Roll up! Roll up!’ the priest said. ‘Try your luck with a prayer to the shrine! Say you’re going to point at God, then do it!’”

“I bowed my head at the strange metal-cylinder shrine, and I began to speak in an alien tongue.”

“The priest chuckled. ‘You must be confused. I’m not God.’”

“‘CREVV,’ I said.

No sooner had the word left my lips than the priest’s fearsome ivory fang had pierced my vulnerable stomach and sent everything inside me all over the place.”

“The priest chuckled. ‘You must be confused. You’re not God. If you were God, you would perform the divine sign.’”

“The prayer activated the shrine, and God’s light revealed itself. A glowing symbol was visible above the shrine for a few seconds before it faded out of sight.”

“‘Nice praying!’ said the alien priest. ‘You earned yourself a divine glimpse. Of course, what you just saw wasn’t God. It was only a symbol of what God is able to do using his powers.’”

“It was a science-fiction program.

‘What might life on other planets look like?’ mused the narrator of the show.”

“The alien did not respond.”

“The boring program continued.”

Your sister cuts you off to interject.

“Is that relevant? You watching TV with an alien? I appreciate you coming to me with your alien-abduction story, but chop-chop, let’s finish this up. I have a giant cake in the oven. I am sickened by how giant this goddamn cake is.”

“‘AMAMU CREV JENCH,’ I announced.”

“‘That’s not a very nice thing to say about yourself,’ said the guard, barely containing his anger at the word I had just used.”

“‘Oh yeah? You’re God?’ said the alien. ‘Prove it.’”

“The alien guard didn’t believe that I was God.”

“‘That’s very kind, but no, I’m not God,’ said the guard.”

“‘BRIDE, BRIDE, BRIDE,’ I stammered.

The guard eyed me suspiciously.”

“I stammered out a sentence in the alien language. The guard eyed me with contempt.

‘I don’t know what you’re trying to say,’ it said in thickly accented English.”

“‘CREVV,’ I said.

No sooner had the word left my lips than a fearsome ivory fang had pierced my vulnerable stomach and sent everything inside me all over the place.”

“Mustering my gymnastics expertise, I did a cool flip for the alien guard.

‘Incredible. What a cool flip,’ said the guard. ‘Very good. You are my God after all. I love you. Please go ahead.’”

“I continued past the guard, north along the hallway. This part of the UFO was eerily silent.”

“It was the mayor. He had removed his ceremonial jacket and was naked here on the observation deck, looking up at the stars.

He turned and eyed me impassively.”

“The mayor yawned and paced the ship’s observation deck.

‘Ah, yes, I see. A cool flip that only God itself could perform. It is undeniable that you are the authentic God.’”

“The mayor ignored me and pressed a button on the wall. ‘This way,’ said the mayor as a hatch opened.

Stepping out of the UFO, I realized that the ship was still on Earth.”

We were alone in the woods at night.

“It was then that the alien mayor produced a terrifying weapon.

‘This,’ the mayor said, ‘is a Calamity Gun. When fired, it will produce an energy beam that induces total memory loss, irritation around the eyes, and in some cases, death.’”

“‘I hope you understand—it’s nothing personal. You are the true God, but I am the true mayor. We cannot coexist on the UFO.’

The mayor paced in the forest clearing.

‘Before I use this gun, I will allow you to write one cryptic message on the tree here, as a reminder to your future self that you are God and that you have seen aliens.’”

“Finishing the message, I braced myself for a blast from the gun that causes memory loss and may cause death.”

“The mayor sneered and fired the Calamity Gun.”

“Immediately, a cab burst from the forest. It took the brunt of the calamity ray and ran over the mayor.”

“‘Where to?’ asked the cabbie.

The cabbie had been struck by the calamity ray just long enough to lose his memory, but not long enough to die. He had no idea his taxi had just struck and killed the mayor.

‘Where to?’ he asked again.”

“With the cab still parked on the mayor’s body, I fired the Calamity Gun at the cabbie, erasing his memory completely. Breathless, I dropped the gun.

The cabbie blinked. A blank look crossed his face. Then, instinctively, the cabbie floored it and sped off into the woods.”

“The cabbie looked down and saw that he had run over an alien mayor with big legs.

Driven crazy by the size of the alien’s legs, the cabbie lost control of his body, sprinted up a hill, and plunged headfirst into a nearby volcano. I ran after him and reached the rim of the volcano just in time to see his ghost float out of him and zoom up into outer space. He was dead.”

“The next thing I knew, I was alone in the woods at night. I couldn’t remember a thing.”

“The cabbie didn’t remember me.”

“I told the cabbie to drive into a nearby volcano, and he immediately did. We both died.”

We sped through the city in silence.

“That was a very convincing story,” says your sister. “But how did you remember? I thought the calamity ray erased your memory. How do you account for that?”

“Oh?” says your sister. “What’s the point, then?”

“Oh, then I don’t believe you,” says your sister.

You didn’t get your sister to believe your story about aliens. You have failed.

“Yeah, that checks out!” says your sister. “I believe your story about getting stolen from the atmosphere. I believe it all.”

Your sister believed your story about aliens.

You have won.

“Hmm. There’s just one problem with your story,” your sister says. “I saw the cab driver. He dropped you off. In fact, he’s still here.”

You look out the window, and sure enough, there the cabbie is, waiting in the same place he was when he dropped you off.

“Where to?” you can faintly hear him shout to you from his spot down on the driveway.

“So I don’t believe you,” says your sister.

Your sister called your lie and didn’t believe your story about getting stolen by aliens.


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