I just got a call from a pod person. He pretended to be my husband, but he didn't fool me. I know he was a pod person because he said, "Could you make me a list of things to do tonight?"
I covered my astonishment well. I said, "Sure, honey, I can do that!" And then I reached quietly for my cell phone while I kept him chatting on the landline. I dialed the FBI. And NASA. And the zoo. Who handles pod people invasions, anyway?
Really now: "Could you make me a list of things to do tonight?" What kind of stupid aliens are these? They can fly through light-years of empty space (boy, are their tentacles tired!). They can invade my husband's workplace, where the security people always scrutinize my license v-e-r-y carefully to make sure I am not going to steal any secret info on, I don't know, outlier weighting strategies. They can take over his body while making sure enough of his consciousness remains to dial our home number -- and then they say a crazy thing like "Could you make me a list of things to do tonight?"
NOTE TO THE POD PEOPLE: Try again.
It might be that my husband will wrest back control of his body before he gets home tonight, but I doubt it. If the guy is uttering sentences like "Could you make me a list of things to do tonight?" he's bound to be pretty far gone in the alien's grip. I need to have a list prepared to keep the pod person busy while I prepare to go all Sigourney Weaver on his cloaca. I've got it started:
- Construct long-handled chimney broom using toilet brush, duct tape, and all those detachable thingies for angling the blind slats.
- Construct catapult from snow shovel and scrap wood.
- Hurl self to roof.
- Bandage resulting lacerations using duct tape and superglue from construction projects.
- Sweep chimney [unswept for at least five years].
- Catalog the arachnid life therein.
- Alphabetize the socks [my husband loves alphabetizing things so maybe this task will speak to him, submerged though he might be beneath the pod person's will].
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