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Thursday, October 31, 2013

THE ALIEN MIND BENDERS

THE BIZARRE TALE OF PROFESSOR IRENE EMMA CRACKPOTTER

By Tim Colin
Associate Editor
Humor News Nuts Online Magazine
This is the most bizarre case ever investigated at the Humor News Space Aliens Nuts organization. It all began one day as I was drinking my lunch at the Big Liver Lounge. The Big Liver is a place on the outskirts of Traverse City where people go when they are really depressed and want to consume lots of spirits all alone. The place is dimly lit with only two lights. One is over the bar and the other is in the hallway so that you can read the gender signs on the bathrooms. I figure the place must be clean because it always smells like Lysol.

I was sitting alone at the bar when this hot looking sophisticated lady comes rushing into the place and orders up a pitcher of ice beer and she didn’t care what brand. The bartender said that they only served pitchers to two or more people so the lady moved over to the stool beside of mine and said “I’m with this guy”.

The bartender poured a frothy pitcher of beer and set it down in front of us along with two frosted mugs he pulled out of the freezer under the bar. I thought my luck had changed. A girl sat down beside of me and bought me a drink and I had never met her before. I reached my hand out to shake hers and said “Hi, my name is Tim Colin and you are…?”

“Cool it Colin dude” She said. “You can have a beer but I can’t talk right now after what I’ve just been through.”

I began to think that there was something about me that really turned her off. I thought I had used deodorant that day but, I couldn’t remember if I had brushed my teeth. I hadn’t planned on doing any socializing at the Big Liver or else I would have taken a shower and trimmed my nose hairs. I know they must be pretty long. I haven’t trimmed them in over two weeks. I decided to advance my relationship with the girl by asking her again for her name. “I’m a reporter,” I began. “You can tell me your name and your story. I am a very good listener.”

She looked at me for a moment and then began her story. “I am Professor Irene Emma Crackpotter. I am professor of Space Alien Psychic Hypnosis at Delta Community College down near Saginaw. There we have a two year degree program in Space Alien Psychic Studies which culminates with a very aggressive placement program. Many of my former students have ended up working at very prestigious organizations like McDonalds, Burger King and even The Department of Homeland Security in the airline baggage division. I suppose you are wondering why a sophisticated and educated woman like me is hiding out in this bar that’s full of unemployed alcoholic loser creeps?”

“Yes Professor, I would like to hear your story” I told her. Something told me that this woman was way out of my league. She was well educated and sophisticated. Most women I know smell like a combination of cigarettes and hair spray. This lady smelled a smell I had seldom known before. She smelled clean.

“Well, Colin dude, I am on the run from a group of space aliens in the Upper Peninsula known as “The Mind Benders”. These creatures are putting up an array of antennas which will control the minds of humans all over North America. They are literally sending out psychic brain signals via their antennas which can bend the human mind into thinking evil things to do which will assist the Mind Benders during their conquest of Earth in the year 2012.”

I had finished off most of the pitcher of beer and I was having trouble getting my lips and tongue coordinated to form any intelligible words so instead of dragging out the conversation by questioning the soundness of the lady’s’ assertions, I simply asked “What can I do to help?” I thought I formed the words without letting her know I was intoxicated and was having trouble speaking. I did not want her to get the wrong impression of me on what I considered to be our first date.

“Let’s go,” she said, “We need to get to the U.P. and shut the antenna array down.” She dropped down off her bar stool (she was kind of on the short side). I followed as quickly as I could but I had to climb up off the floor first because something tripped me when I stood up from the bar stool.

The professor had a yellow Volkswagen Bug which was hard for me fall asleep in. The professor drove all the way up to the U.P. and had arrived at our destination before I had waked up. I felt her punching me in the shoulder when I finally awoke. “Wake up! We’re here,” she said.

I apologized for sleeping all the way up. I told her the fresh country air must have made me really tired. She got out of the car while I struggled out of the car and fell on the ground. I got up on my feet and saw that we were near an old light house. She told me we were at Dead Fish Bay and the lighthouse was on a peninsula called Drowning Sailor Point.

As we approached the lighthouse we were suddenly approached by a white bearded old man. I was not too troubled by him until I noticed he had a shot gun. “What are you people doing here?” He asked.

The professor leaned over to me and said “I think that this guy is one of them. Be careful not to give our objective away,” she warned.

I responded to her by saying “No problem”. I then turned to the man with the gun and asked him what he was doing.

“Well I’m moose hunting,” the old man replied. “This is state land and I have a permit to hunt moose this year. I haven’t seen any though. I thought I saw some tracks out there in the water. Moose like water. Well, I guess I had better get back to mother. The old woman probably has supper fixed right about now. I guess we won’t be eating any moose today. Squirrel, that’s what I did shoot today. Tonight I guess I’ll have squirrel to eat. “

As the old man turned to walk away I asked him if he knew of any mind bending antennas in the area. He said he did not know of any antennas except for the one on top of the old abandoned lighthouse. He said he did not know exactly what it was for. He had heard it was for some sort of Canadian TV broadcasting.

The professor almost ran to the old lighthouse. I had to struggle to follow her. I had a bad headache and my legs were wobbling. I had been at the Big Liver Lounge since early in the morning and the day seemed like it was awfully long. The light house door was open and it was not long until we were both at the top of the lighthouse and I found myself pulling down a small pipe that the professor told me was the main piece of mind bending technology. I dropped the pipe on the ground and we were soon both speeding off in the yellow Volkswagen. We were in fear of our lives since we knew the Mind Benders would be trying to hunt us down.

We made it back to the Big Liver lounge before it closed. The professor and I bellied up to the bar and asked for the news to be turned on. There was no one else in the bar so the bar tender had no problem turning on the TV. Not surprisingly, there was breaking news relating to a homeland security attack on a private installation. It was announced on the news that someone had toppled a Canadian home shopping channel relay station located at Dead Fish Bay Michigan. The relay station was broadcasting to Manitowoc Canada. There were three people viewing the show when it suddenly went off the air. The Canadian Mounted Police were offering a reward for information which would lead to finding and fining the scoundrels that took down the station. The reward consisted of a $5.00 (Canadian) coupon for hot coffee at Tim Horton’s Restaurants.

After the news broadcast the professor turned to me and asked “Well, do you know what this means?”

“Yes I do,” I responded. “This means that while we were on a wild goose chase taking down that pipe the Mind Benders were tearing down the relay antenna for the Canadian home shopping show.”

I never heard from the professor again. In fact, when I tried to contact her at Delta College I was told that there was not a Professor I. Emma Crackpotter on staff. So there you have it. The professor was evidently a deep cover agent. She walked into my life with a pitcher of beer and now she was gone. I decided I would have to spend a lot more time at the Big Liver Lounge just in case she should ever return. Everyday for the rest of my life I will look to the door hoping she will walk back into my life and share with me her pitcher of beer.

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