E.T. ...You Party Animal!

by Barry Simpson

I knew I needed a vacation when I started to seriously consider wearing only a thong and my cowboy hat to work. I hungered to get away from the concrete city to become one with nature. Camping it was: I borrowed a tent, stove and a sleeping bag. The next morning I woke up at the crack of 11:30 a.m., made a pit stop for a double mocha with cinnamon, two donuts and off I was into the wilderness. Now, I knew how Daniel Boone felt at the beginning of one of his adventures.

I decided on a desolate state park about eighty miles north of New York City. Legend has it that bigfoot ate a family of campers during one very dry summer, when the seasonal shrubbery, his usual food source, was decimated. They were French so no one really investigated. I arrived a little after two o’clock and was assigned a site by the gatehouse concierge. The valet dropped off my equipment and luggage and parked the BMW.

This was truly the great outdoors. It was barren except for the concession stand at the lake, a game room with videos, evening baccarat or a movie, bathrooms with individual shower stalls and a Starbucks. There was a grocery store but that was a good fifteen hundred feet from the campground. My nearest neighbor was Theodore Primptson and his son Nelson whose sixty-foot mobile home was about ten yards from my location. I immediately unpacked and started to erect my tent. Three hours later with Theodore and his son watching and giggling, I was still at it. One end was about twelve feet in the air but was only about ten inches wide and the other side was about eighteen inches tall but nine-foot wide. I came to the conclusion I had a defective home until my laughing fellow survivalists offered their assistance. Within ten minutes they redesigned my quarters into a six-foot high by ten-foot square sanctuary. Our working together in this unforgiving environment made us close friends.

I took a quick dip in the lake, stopped at the bathhouse for a massage and on my way back to my newly installed residence, I saw a large brown dog, probably a Great Dane, running loose. I immediately reported it to the park police who informed me it was called a deer. I continued my journey and decided to celebrate my new surrounds by cooking my dinner out in the open. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find an outlet for my stove and again my neighbors came to my aid, graciously inviting me to supper explaining that I had a barbecue grill that needed charcoal not electricity. It became overcast and we dined in. We had Filet Minion and a few bottles of 1962 Chardonnay from the northern regions of Italy. It was a bit tart but you must be a good sport in such a primitive habitat. I thanked my hosts and gave them my business card with my personal phone number on the back. I told them to look me up the next time they were in the city. What a great first day!!

I was quite tuckered from all the fresh air activities and decided to retire early. In my maniacal haste to leave the city, I forget to pack my jammies and a flashlight. About three in the morning I desperately had to go potty. It was raining so I put on my cowboy hat and leather raincoat, and wore my Bunny Flip-Flops. It was very dark and I stumbled towards the direction of the relieving area. All of a sudden a very bright light hit me. It was so intense I couldn’t see a thing. I felt my body lifting off the ground towards this white illumination. I immediately thought I had died and was on my way to heaven but then I remembered my religion teacher’s inscription in my High School Yearbook that read, “You’re Knocking on the Gates of Hell”. I was hoping this was just a dream brought on by excessive alcohol consumption. It wasn’t and I was in for the experience of a lifetime.

I floated up through an opening in a very large vessel. I tried to move but found myself strapped to a strangely flexible table and my thong was no where in sight. The bright light vanished and I was looking at five individuals. Four of them were over six feet tall with large heads, big eyes, three fingers on each hand and feet the size of pizza pies. They looked a lot like Richard Nixon. The fifth was very small, only about three feet tall, with a very sickly complexion. I found out later he was a human alien hybrid. They brought out some instruments and started to examine me. At one point, they readjusted the table and my bottom was up in the air: it must have looked like a hill waiting for a flag to be planted in it. All of this probing was more relaxing than my earlier massage. Unfortunately, once again the unstoppable urge hit and a flood of urine exploded from me dampening my captors. They had such a stunned expression: I laughed uncontrollably. Well, before I knew it I was off the table, back in my thong, flip-flops, raincoat and hat. Laughing was truly a universal language: from then on we were pals. They introduced themselves without speaking. It seems that few earthlings have the ability for telepathy: one must be able to make their mind blank and apparently mine was as vacant as any they had ever witnessed.

I decided to give them celebrity names since I couldn’t pronounce their real ones. The tallest one, who was obviously in charge, I named Duke after the cowboy legend. The female I called Debbie after the many movies about “Doing Dallas”. I figured with only one female, who was naked, traveling with four guys, the name definitely fit the situation. The second in command was christened Slappy after Slappy the Clown. He had a great laugh and was easy to smile. The third male, who was the only one with clothes on, was dressed in a bright orange sequin robe with roseberry tassels hanging from it, donning a yellow scarf and wearing what looked like eye shadow, was immediately labeled Brucey for obvious reasons. The small pale crossbreed I called Tatoo after Ricardo Montalban companion on the TV show Fantasy Island.

I quickly observed that my new associates loved to have fun. They wanted to show me the alien’s version of Cow Tipping. It’s a little different than the prank committed by teenagers in farm country who would wait for a cow to fall asleep (it slept standing up) and then push it over. We flew to a little town outside of London and beamed up a few Heifers. They first drained the blood out and then removed their liver. Next they made a circle or two in the farmer’s field and took turns trying to hit the center with the cow. It was like playing darts with an eight hundred pound Moooer. Everyone was pretty close but Debbie was declared the winner. As the last cow rained down, a table appeared in the center of the room with their favorite food on it. The liver they removed was cooked and the blood was mixed with another liquid and after it smoked for a while I was invited to try it. It tasted wonderful and we ate and drank for over an hour. This kind of cow juice was quite potent and everyone got, as Slappy put it, Plutoed. I nicknamed it a “Bloody-Mooey”

The next thing I knew a mirrored globe descended from the ceiling and music came on. It looked like a John Travolta movie except with one big difference. The music they played and loved was the Polka. It was their passion and with those enormous circular feet: dancing with them was like putting your ten little piggies in a winepress. We moved to every know variation including: the Pennsylvania, Beer barrel, Champagne, Too Fat, Sleepy Valley, Hoop De Doo and the final one that separated my toes from my feet, the Polka Hoe Down. After I could hardly walk from all the hoof damage they invited me up to the next floor to compete in their favorite sport. I couldn’t believe it……it was bowling. I was in second place when I had Slappy disqualified for going over the foul line. I was declared the winner and Duke gave me a high three. We had a few more Mooeys and suddenly Debbie started to look real good. I was about to make a move on her but out of the corner of my eye I saw Brucey dancing with a bright red lamp shade on his head. He was plastered and decided to tell me a joke. How can you tell that I have visited an Earth Man? His front lawn has a circle in it, the cow is dead and his hinny hurts. After I stopped laughing, Duke invited me to pick an athletic competition. I decided on the Australian sport of Dwarf throwing: much to Tatoo’s dismay. We tossed him around the saucer like a Raggedy Anne Doll. At one point Slappy slipped and hurled the mini alien down the bowling alley leaving the very difficult seven-ten split. We were all exhausted and decided to relax for awhile

Now that everyone was at ease, I started to ask some questions. Apparently, They were on school break and coming to earth was like going to Cancun for earth kids. This explains why the circles and cattle mutilations are only seen at certain times of the year. It also came out that some of the more immature ones liked to show off and come close to airplanes or be witnessed by people on the ground. They enlightened me to the fact that they had conquered distance and time. They could easily move between two objects or time zones. Another words, it would be like standing right on the line that separated New Jersey and New York. One step you’re in one state and with another movement you back in the other state. When we went from Upstate New York to London we just opened a door into that time frame. What I found very interesting is that they can go back in time and I could witness any of the great historical events. They honored my request and we went to January 23, 1982 at precisely 2:45 P.M. I observed with my own eyes that it was Thornton Dillian who stole my customed tailored blazer out of my Locker. He will pay dearly for this. We also cruised time to finally answer the riddle that has plagued the scientific community for centuries. Did the chicken come before the egg or visa versa? We solved this enigma. The chicken definitely was first ……or was it the egg? I’m not sure I was too busy planning my revenge on the jacket thief and wasn’t really paying attention to the bird puzzle

Well, all good things must come to an end. There was an emergency intergalactic page from Debbie’s parents, ordering her home immediately. It seems they came across some birth control devices in her room and they were beside themselves with worry. My new amigos were taking me back to the exact time and place where they beamed me aboard. As a going away present, Brucey insisted on giving me a hair trim. It was a laser cut and it looked great. He also wanted to give me a firm yet supple body rub with alien butter but I hastily declined, claiming allergies. We all hugged and I gave Slappy my Stetson as a bon voyage gift.

As I parted, I looked back and saw an Image I will never forget. There, standing in the doorway of his ship, a six foot five inch naked intoxicated Martian waving good-bye with a white cowboy hat. It even turned this tough seasoned outdoorsman into a blubbering mass. I walked back slowly stopping only to drop a note at Theodore’s mobile home asking him to leave a noon wake up call for me with the concierge and have them deliver a skim cappuccino and Grecian bagel with cream cheese on the side, to my remote site.

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