SOME NIGHTS
That’s alright, I found a martyr in my bed tonight. She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am, oh who am I, m-m-m. —Fun
At this point I began to wonder what had happened to Monroe, or whoever he was. It turns out that I was wearing my seatbelt, and apparently Monroe wasn’t, because Tom-Tom told me he didn’t think the alien survived the crash. They hadn’t hung around long enough to really found out. I found it ironic that Monroe had saved me from harm in my car crash and now couldn’t save himself.
Okay. So what’s next, I wondered.
It seemed I didn’t have much of a choice. This would be a chance to be a real hero and save mankind, along with myself. If I didn’t want to completely disappear in my time quantum, I needed to step up to the plate in this one. I also needed to figure out a way to get back to the past. The only logical alternative to accomplish this would be to get back into one of the alien time craft. Unfortunately, though, at this point I was stuck out here in lord knows where, with no wheels in sight.
Not to worry, my brother said. He had a plan. A plan to destroy the dome and the aliens. A plan to save mankind in the past and the future. And a plan to return me to my time quantum.
He told me that we would accomplish all this with almost no weapons, a small group of clones, a few sick humans, and some half-human/half-aliens. Needless to say, I had a few second thoughts.
I reminded myself that Tom-Tom worked and lived inside the dome. He probably knew its Achilles’ heel. I really had no choice but to provide a helping hand. How could I refuse? After all, I was expecting the adventure of all adventures.
“Let’s go get ’em,” I said.
“Okay, Brother, here’s how it’s going to go down,” Tom-Tom replied.
His plan was a dilly. Indiana Jones would have been impressed.
“We depart at first light. You will be needing company to keep you warm tonight,” Tom-Tom said.
“Company? To keep me warm? Sure, why not,” I said, wondering what he might be implying.
The war with the aliens had drastically reduced the ratio of males to females. Females now outnumbered males seven to one. Those odds forced a change in social behavior. It became necessary for each male to accommodate more than one female. No matter how civilized humans became, when it came to sex, our instincts prevailed. We are the only species on Earth that uses sex for pleasure as well as reproduction. The night before battle was for pleasure.
Three attractive female warriors, of exotic nature, lay with me that night. Some of the genetically enhanced warriors had defected to the rebel side. They were extremely provocative and attractive in their own unique way.
One looked familiar. She was tall and had a pale blue complexion, with dark blue freckles covering her entire body. Her fiery red eyes pierced my soul. Her short curly flaming red hair and plush rosy lips set my body on fire. I recognized her from the mother ship. I could see by the twinkle in her eye and the smile on her face that she had been anticipating this moment.
Another was of medium height and had olive skin. She had sparkly yellow eyes with pupils that showed lighted candle wicks blowing in the wind. Her long straight blonde hair flowed over luscious watermelon breasts.
The third female was only about four feet tall, with skin as black as night and as smooth as silk. She was completely hairless from head to toe. She had bright electric bedroom eyes that could not be ignored. They changed colors each time she blinked. Her three small breasts were proud and pointed, with long protruding red cherry nipples that enticed me to play with them.
It got extremely warm in the cave that evening. In my time, this would have been many a man’s fancy, to bed three women at once. Our lovemaking was fast and furious, turning into an all-night marathon. The more I gave, the more they wanted. Together the three absorbed my body like a sponge. We got so tangled that someone watching would not have been able to tell who was who. Our mating ritual must have resembled and sounded like cats in heat in a big city alley. Needless to say, this tomcat had one rousing and bruising night.
Sorry, I know I got you all worked up, but it’s that dad gum PG-13 rating again, I can’t say anymore. You’ll just have to use your own imagination.
As you can imagine, I didn’t get much sleep that night. The next morning I could hardly move, let alone go into battle with aliens. My brother had foreseen my predicament and had prepared a special energy drink. Good old Red Bull was still in production. In a New York minute, I was raring to take on anyone or anything.
Careful what you wish for, Tom, because you just might get it.
Tom-Tom assembled our small ragtag rebel force, which consisted entirely of misfits and unsung heroes, to make the journey through an underground tunnel, which led to the base of the alien dome.
We had to crawl on our hands and knees through slimy, rotten, smelly water. Where was that mask when I most needed it? This was not how I had envisioned a hero would travel. I darned near got bitten by a rat, more than once. Go figure, nearly two hundred years in the future and there were still rats! I hated rats!
Not only that, there were cock roaches everywhere. Crawling up my pant legs, shirt, and even getting into my hair. This was not what I had signed up for. If there hadn’t been someone behind me, I’d have turned around and gone back to bed.
After crawling for what seemed an eternity, we finally reached our destination. You can imagine what we looked and smelled like. The aliens didn’t have a chance. Our smell alone would have them on the run.
Somehow my brother knew how to penetrate the dome without setting off any alarms. Or so he thought. He must have had a connection on the inside, because just as we arrived, a small opening appeared in the dome.
“Move quickly, before it closes,” he whispered.
There were about ten of us who scampered through the opening. Only nine made it. The tenth wasn’t quick enough, and I heard a hiss and turned to see a lightening spark vaporize him as the opening closed upon him. Ouch! That had to hurt. Thank God I wasn’t last in line.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” Tom-Tom said.
As bad as we stunk, I smelled that smell again from the cavern on Easter Island. Similar to the west wind that blows from Kansas. It was the atmosphere that the aliens breathed. It made me wonder if Jayhawks weren’t aliens too.
Tom-Tom said that the air wasn’t harmful to humans. It just stunk and made a person want to puke. But now was not the time to be throwing up.
“Just breathe slowly and keep moving,” he advised.
The dome was actually a shield. Tom-Tom knew it had a power grid to keep it in place. That was our target. If we could disrupt the power source, the shield would collapse, leaving the aliens exposed to earth’s atmosphere. Supposedly, they could survive by breathing our air, but it made them ill when they were exposed to it for a long period of time.
Our plan was to disable the power grid, capture or kill the aliens, steal a time craft, and whiz me back to 1978, where I could continue my dull life. Unfortunately, however, not all plans go according to plan, especially when dealing with a superior race that has just conquered you.
I’M HURTIN’
Seems to me, my destiny is to be just hurtin’, yeah hurtin’. —Roy Orbison
No sooner had we assembled inside the dome, we saw that we were surrounded. Shit! I about crapped my pants when I saw Monroe and several of his warriors pointing laser guns at us. It looked like he had survived the crash after all.
One of the warriors had my discarded helmet and forced it back upon my head.
We have been expecting you Tom. Thank you for bringing your brother along, Monroe said.
Oh man. We fell right into their trap. The aliens must have planted a rat in our midst that had spilled the beans on us.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a plan ‘B’ up your sleeve, would you?” I asked Tom-Tom.
He frowned and shook his head, “afraid not.”
It looked like Monroe would be the hero this day. This wasn’t going to look good on my resume.
Put them through the distillery, they smell like human waste. Then escort them to the prison compound, Monroe told his warriors.
After being stripped naked and sprayed with a fine sweet smelling mist, we were clothed in a gray metallic outfit that everyone wore in this future culture. We were then marched to a building that resembled a prison compound and separated. I was put in a small room and strapped to what appeared to be a hospital operating bed, resembling those in our present-day hospitals. I was then left alone to ponder my demise.
As I surveyed the room, I noticed a small table with a tray containing various utensils. The utensils looked similar to what you see in a dentist’s office.
This didn’t look good. In fact, it became downright depressing. I was definitely between a rock and a hard place, and up the creek without a paddle. I couldn’t remember having scheduled a dentist appointment for today.
Okay Tom, time to think this through. What would 007 do in a situation like this?
How about nudging the bed closer to the table, grabbing a sharp utensil knife between my fingers, cutting through the strap, freeing myself from the bed, rescuing my comrades, escaping from the building, blowing up the shield’s power grid, killing all the aliens, stealing a time craft, returning to 1978, and living happily ever after with my leading lady?
Absolutely brilliant idea, Tom!
There was only one small problem. This was not the movies and I was no James Bond.
Monroe brought me back to reality when he entered the room.
Well, earthling, there is no need for any more tricks, he said.
As you humans would say, it is time to get down to the nitty gritty, so I will get right to the point.
Thank you for leading us to your clone. We allowed the rebels to shoot down our craft and rescue you. We suspected they would plan to disable the shield, so we were waiting. Now you can provide us with the rebels’ base location and their identities’.
Apparently, their rat was the one who got vaporized, since Monroe still needed that information.
Uh oh. I was in a heap of trouble now. I hadn’t bothered to get any names, except for Tom-Tom, and they already knew him. Plus I don’t recall Tom-Tom having GPS.
I would if I could. No one told me their name and I have no idea where their camp is, I said, knowing that was probably the wrong answer.
You can read my mind, so you must know I am telling you the truth, I thought.
Ah, but the rebels have probably trained you on how to hide some of your thoughts, said the alien.
I knew it! I suspected all along there was a way to hide them, and he had kept it from me.
I was hopeful you would cooperate. If not, then I will be forced to cause you much pain, Monroe said.
I’m telling you the truth. My mother taught me to never lie, I wisecracked.
By the look on his face, I could tell he wasn’t appreciating my sense of humor. Somebody must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.
You will not think it to be funny when I demonstrate how much pain you can tolerate.
Monroe, or whatever his name was, picked up one of the utensils and started yanking out my teeth.
“YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH,” I screamed, as I spat blood at him.
“That hurts. Don’t you have some truth serum you could use?”
I prefer primitive methods. Much more effective, the alien said, with that shit-eating grin on his face.
And, when I am done pulling out all your teeth, I will start on your fingernails and work my way to your toenails.
Christ! Who was it that outlawed water boarding? I had a bone to pick with them, right about then. I think it is about time to abandon the hero stuff.
I told you I don’t know any names or where they are hiding, I said, as I started to choke from the blood filling my mouth.
Oh, by the way, you wouldn’t happen to have any ibuprofen or extra strength Tylenol handy, would you?
I figured it couldn’t hurt anymore to ask.
He must not have had a funny bone anywhere in that alien body, as he grabbed another tooth and yanked it out.
“YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” I shouted. (Mom, cover your ears).
Pardon my French. My temper was getting the best of me. I’ve heard that stressful situations can bring out the worst in people. I was definitely a little stressed at that moment. I would certainly be experiencing some post-traumatic stress disorder after this ordeal.
“That’s the last straw,” I said, as I spat more blood at the alien.
“Do you have any idea what my dentist will do to you when he sees what you’ve done. Then after he is done with you, I’m going to pluck those big weird eyes out and tear your fuckin’ weird-looking head off that scrawny ass body of yours,” I screamed at him.
Superman and Batman would have been proud, but I had to remind myself that this was not the movies. That was real blood, not ketchup, oozing out of my mouth and real pain shooting through my brain.
You are not in any position to make any threats, earthling, Monroe pointed out, as he yanked out the last remaining tooth.
It just so happened to be my only gold one. Can you imagine the price of gold in 2191? That little sucker would have done wonders for that cranky portfolio of mine.
I suppose you really do not know anything, or else you would have at least thought it by now, Monroe finally said, as he pressed a button on the wall.
Two other aliens entered the room.
Terminate him along with the others. They are of no use to us anymore, Monroe told them.
“HEY! WAIT! DAMN YOU TO HELL,” I screamed at him.
“I still got the fingernails and toenails?” I yelled, grasping at a last straw. Anything to delay my demise.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. I thought I was the good guy. Good guys were supposed to prevail. Someone had gotten the script wrong.
The aliens weren’t listening as they rolled me out into the hallway. I heard screams coming from behind each door we passed. They rolled me into a room that smelled of death and had me gagging even more. The room was smoking hot from the inferno coming from a furnace.
Human and other types of corpses covered the floor. Squiggly worm-like critters crawled from their eye sockets, ears, noses, and mouths. The critters got bigger and bigger as I looked upon the frightful sight. Another dream had come true. Only now my dreams were turning into one humongous nightmare.
Time to wake up, Tom.
Problem was, I was already awake.
I had to admit that I was scared shitless. I’d never been this scared in my life. Fear within itself is impossible to define. It must be experienced to know its meaning. Right about now, its meaning was coming in loud and clear.
I had found out that this Buck Rodgers crap wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. No wonder he had retired a long time before. It also seemed highly unlikely that my Marvel superheroes would come to my rescue anytime soon. It appeared I had met my Waterloo and would be disappearing from the face of the earth in the past, present, and future.
One of the aliens pulled out his laser gun, pointed it at my head, and said, sweet dreams, earthling, as he pulled the trigger.
“NO!” I screamed, as my head exploded, revealing the alien half of me. I heard the fat lady sing as I kicked the bucket and bit the dust. I was as dead as a door nail.
How can the Comeback Kid come back from the dead? Surely this isn’t The End?