Interview with the Alien
Human: Ladies and gentlemen, by now you've all heard about the discovery of extraterrestrial life--
Alien: I wouldn't call it a discovery, necessarily.
H: No?
A: More like an arrival, wouldn't you say?
H: Well, we discovered your impending arrival.
A: The same way someone "discovers" a letter in their mailbox, I suppose.
H: How did you expect your arrival to be received?
A: Since we have been eavesdropping on your communications for the last 100 years, we fully expected to be blown to smithereens at first sight.
H: Which explains the text of your arrival announcement.
A: That's right. "We'll be there in a month. Please don't kill us. We're just stopping by to say 'Hello!'"
H: With pictures of scenes from your home planet. [a photo slideshow begins on a large screen behind them]
A: Yes, that's a gork's-eye view of our largest city, and that's one of our famous self-fermenting lakes--popular with vacationers--
H: Wait a minute, what's that say in the bottom corner?
A: "Google Maps." They're everywhere. Anyway, that's one of the casinos on the lakeshore, and I think that's some drunk vacationer's airmobile being pulled out of the lake.
H: And 30 days later you parked your spacemobile at the base of the Statue of Liberty. Why New York City?
A: We heard you have the best bagels. Really, we determined through vigorous mathematical analysis that your fair city was the place we were least likely to get bashed to bits. Nothing phases New Yorkers.
H: And you look so human!
A: That's a mirage. You really don't want to see what we look like. Believe me, we don't want to see what we look like, either. Even our beauty pageant winners are ugly. Helps keep the population in check, though.
H: And your English is perfect.
A: Well, that's not much of a trick, is it? I mean, look at the total idiots who make their living speaking it. And that's just on Fox News.
H: So I have to ask the big question: Why did you make the trip?
A: Oh, you know, just being neighborly. And to say how much we enjoy the comedies.
H: Our movies?
A: And TV and radio shows. They're hilarious!
H: Well, that's amazing. But you better watch out--the MPAA may come after you for royalties.
A: Fair use. Our lawyers are already working on it.
H: But what about our dramas? They're pretty good, too.
A: Oh, they're all funny to us. Dramas, comedies, we crack up at all of 'em. You see, in the early days of our culture, humor was strictly forbidden. In fact, in our creation myth, the first two people--Phil and Ethel--were told not to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Comedy. But the devil appeared to Ethel in the form of a puffin and told her a limerick that began "There once was a man from Nantucket...." Or something like that. I may be a little shaky on the details--it was a long time ago. Anyway, Phil and Ethel were banished and after that, anybody who laughed out loud was doomed to eternal damnation.
H: How sad.
A: Of course, we laughed all the time, just never in public. In fact, our lives actually revolved around comedy, although it was all very wink-wink, nudge-nudge.
H: That sounds vaguely familiar.
A: I can't imagine why. Eventually, the Great Elation arrived after the most renown scientist in our history, Giggeleo, published his famous "Origin of the Punchline." That changed everything.
H: I'm so happy it worked out for all of you.
A: Well, it certainly wasn't all peaches and herbs. Some areas remained humorless for centuries, and even now excessive laughter in public is a serious social gaffe. There are isolated areas where even funny faces are forbidden. We call them no Pryor zones.
H: We appreciate the effort to let us know how much you like our shows, but there must be something else you can tell us--something profound.
A: Mmmm, nope, sorry! I got nothin'. Except maybe a request.
H: Well, sure, I guess.
A: We've got our Adam Sandler filter set up, so that's no problem. But could you please clone Robin Williams before it's too late? And if you don't mind, we'd like to dig up the Marx Brothers and extract some of their DNA so we can re-animate them. We don't know a darn thing about any of that genes stuff, but hey, it's worth a try.
H: So, what are your plans?
A: Oh, see a couple shows, check the DVD clearance bin, get some takeout bagels, and head for home.
H: Maybe you could leave us your address so we can stop by sometime.
A: No, no, that's not such a good idea. We've seen what you people do whenever you arrive somewhere new. And I can tell you right now we don't have any gold. Not a nugget. So don't get any ideas about trailing us.
H: Have you given any thought to taking one of us back with you?
A: We did seriously consider kidnapping Seth McFarlane, but then we got wind, if you will, of his hygiene problem, so we scotched that idea. We might give Bob Newhart a call, just for the heck of it. Gosh, look at the time. Gotta run!
H: Couldn't you at least tell us a joke from your planet?
A: Our humor doesn't really translate, but I'll give it a go. What's the difference between a spatch in a fillow scrad and Brompf Dreshkliv in "Sunrise on Wungfrez Island"?
H: I don't know.
A: The spatch has a flivramp.
H:
A: A flivramp! Get it?
H:
A: I'm outta here. Can somebody please direct me to Tina Fey's condo?
Alien: I wouldn't call it a discovery, necessarily.
H: No?
A: More like an arrival, wouldn't you say?
H: Well, we discovered your impending arrival.
A: The same way someone "discovers" a letter in their mailbox, I suppose.
H: How did you expect your arrival to be received?
A: Since we have been eavesdropping on your communications for the last 100 years, we fully expected to be blown to smithereens at first sight.
H: Which explains the text of your arrival announcement.
A: That's right. "We'll be there in a month. Please don't kill us. We're just stopping by to say 'Hello!'"
H: With pictures of scenes from your home planet. [a photo slideshow begins on a large screen behind them]
A: Yes, that's a gork's-eye view of our largest city, and that's one of our famous self-fermenting lakes--popular with vacationers--
H: Wait a minute, what's that say in the bottom corner?
A: "Google Maps." They're everywhere. Anyway, that's one of the casinos on the lakeshore, and I think that's some drunk vacationer's airmobile being pulled out of the lake.
H: And 30 days later you parked your spacemobile at the base of the Statue of Liberty. Why New York City?
A: We heard you have the best bagels. Really, we determined through vigorous mathematical analysis that your fair city was the place we were least likely to get bashed to bits. Nothing phases New Yorkers.
H: And you look so human!
A: That's a mirage. You really don't want to see what we look like. Believe me, we don't want to see what we look like, either. Even our beauty pageant winners are ugly. Helps keep the population in check, though.
H: And your English is perfect.
A: Well, that's not much of a trick, is it? I mean, look at the total idiots who make their living speaking it. And that's just on Fox News.
H: So I have to ask the big question: Why did you make the trip?
A: Oh, you know, just being neighborly. And to say how much we enjoy the comedies.
H: Our movies?
A: And TV and radio shows. They're hilarious!
H: Well, that's amazing. But you better watch out--the MPAA may come after you for royalties.
A: Fair use. Our lawyers are already working on it.
H: But what about our dramas? They're pretty good, too.
A: Oh, they're all funny to us. Dramas, comedies, we crack up at all of 'em. You see, in the early days of our culture, humor was strictly forbidden. In fact, in our creation myth, the first two people--Phil and Ethel--were told not to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Comedy. But the devil appeared to Ethel in the form of a puffin and told her a limerick that began "There once was a man from Nantucket...." Or something like that. I may be a little shaky on the details--it was a long time ago. Anyway, Phil and Ethel were banished and after that, anybody who laughed out loud was doomed to eternal damnation.
H: How sad.
A: Of course, we laughed all the time, just never in public. In fact, our lives actually revolved around comedy, although it was all very wink-wink, nudge-nudge.
H: That sounds vaguely familiar.
A: I can't imagine why. Eventually, the Great Elation arrived after the most renown scientist in our history, Giggeleo, published his famous "Origin of the Punchline." That changed everything.
H: I'm so happy it worked out for all of you.
A: Well, it certainly wasn't all peaches and herbs. Some areas remained humorless for centuries, and even now excessive laughter in public is a serious social gaffe. There are isolated areas where even funny faces are forbidden. We call them no Pryor zones.
H: We appreciate the effort to let us know how much you like our shows, but there must be something else you can tell us--something profound.
A: Mmmm, nope, sorry! I got nothin'. Except maybe a request.
H: Well, sure, I guess.
A: We've got our Adam Sandler filter set up, so that's no problem. But could you please clone Robin Williams before it's too late? And if you don't mind, we'd like to dig up the Marx Brothers and extract some of their DNA so we can re-animate them. We don't know a darn thing about any of that genes stuff, but hey, it's worth a try.
H: So, what are your plans?
A: Oh, see a couple shows, check the DVD clearance bin, get some takeout bagels, and head for home.
H: Maybe you could leave us your address so we can stop by sometime.
A: No, no, that's not such a good idea. We've seen what you people do whenever you arrive somewhere new. And I can tell you right now we don't have any gold. Not a nugget. So don't get any ideas about trailing us.
H: Have you given any thought to taking one of us back with you?
A: We did seriously consider kidnapping Seth McFarlane, but then we got wind, if you will, of his hygiene problem, so we scotched that idea. We might give Bob Newhart a call, just for the heck of it. Gosh, look at the time. Gotta run!
H: Couldn't you at least tell us a joke from your planet?
A: Our humor doesn't really translate, but I'll give it a go. What's the difference between a spatch in a fillow scrad and Brompf Dreshkliv in "Sunrise on Wungfrez Island"?
H: I don't know.
A: The spatch has a flivramp.
H:
A: A flivramp! Get it?
H:
A: I'm outta here. Can somebody please direct me to Tina Fey's condo?
Copyright 2020 by Dennis Richard O'Reilly -- all rights reserved
