Invasion

  “Yippee!” shouted one of the FFs.

  Three of them began bouncing up and down, at first only four or five feet high, but then higher and higher, up almost to the twenty-foot-high ceiling. All of them began to sing “So long, it’s been good to know ya…”

  Louie and the other two FFs began to bounce too. One of the FFs disappeared through the hole in the wall. Two other FFs did the same, singing “So Long” as they went. One of the hot tar teams opened fire at the bouncing FFs, but Abe bounced himself off the wall and slammed into the man holding the hose sending him to the floor, the hose flying.

  Louie was having trouble reaching the sixteen-foot-high level of the hole in the wall, but Molière gave him a boost and Louie made it to the edge.

  “Love ya!” Louie shouted and disappeared.

  Abe attacked the second hose holder but when he bounced away suffered a direct hit from the third team, sending him to the floor. He tried once to bounce, rose only three feet and was hit by another stream of tar. In another few seconds he was immobile on the floor. Just before the tar covered all of him Abe managed to shout something mostly intelligible but which ended with:

  “…be all buried in shit higher than Everest…”

  For a long moment everyone was speechless. Several police rushed to the door, others began speaking into radio transmitters attached to their noses or other body parts. Four cops tried to corral Abe, who was attempting to roll or hop but only looked like he was burping. Several security men uttered oaths that we won’t repeat here.

  Judge Agassi never lost his dignity. After about a half minute, he rose, his black robe swirling nicely around his legs.

  “Because the defendant is no longer present in the courtroom,” he announced with great dignity, “court is adjourned.”

  FIFTY-FOUR

  (From Billy Morton’s MY FRIEND LOUIE, pp. 377–382)

  Well, the mass media noticed the escape. For most of the next week. Although their stories didn’t always have much to do with reality.

  It seems that the hole in the wall was caused by two FFs in a pickup truck fifty feet from the back of the building shooting two gray bowling balls with a powerful slingshot. You gotta hand it to the FFs: here are the most brilliant creatures in the history of our universe and what do they use to free some of their captured friends? A slingshot, with the ammo being a bowling ball. From the back of a ten-year-old Ford pickup.

  Actually, Louie told me that the FFs had decided never to use any weapon against humans that we use to kill other humans. So they couldn’t use grenades or artillery or any of the million weapons humans have developed to kill each other, and had to settle for a slingshot.

  Where were the three cops stationed at the back of the building when the FFs shot their bowling balls? Working on a different case. It seems three drunks had staggered off the street toward the courthouse wall. Two of them were gals whose not extensive clothing was in disarray and the other a big guy who claimed the gals were molesting him. The gals claimed he was trying to take off their clothes, which, based on torn blouses and bras half-off, seemed a reasonable accusation.

  The three cops worked to handle the situation. One of them made a call for backup to come and get these drunks off their hands while the other two tried to hustle all three of them away from the courthouse wall. But all three seemed to want to stay near the courthouse—no matter how much the cops pulled at their arms or breasts.

  The arrival of the pickup was not noticed. The two FFs in the back of the pickup, pulling back on a huge rubber band more than six feet long and five inches wide were not noticed. The flinging of a bowling ball at terrific speed toward the courthouse was not noticed.

  However, the sound of the balls hitting the courthouse wall, and the falling of debris down on the cops and the drunks was noticed. The cops turned and saw the two FFs in the pickup truck and immediately pulled their guns and ran toward them, one of them beginning to blast away. The FFs flattened themselves in the truck as it quickly pulled away, all three cops now firing at it.

  Behind them, at the courthouse, the FFs bounced down from the hole in the wall and rolled quickly away in different directions. The three drunks, suddenly sober, ran quickly into an alley and disappeared.

  ’Course my version of the escape, based on what Louie and Molière told me two days afterward, was not too similar to the one the authorities came up with. The official version, and the one that made it into the media, said nothing about three fake drunks distracting the cops and nothing about a slingshot and bowling balls. A “squad” of “Protean terrorists” had blasted the courthouse with an advanced bazooka-type weapon and escaped in a sophisticated eight-foot-long drone they’d made just for the occasion. The message was clear: these Protean terrorists are capable of anything. Therefore, every red-blooded American, and even those with only pinkish blood, should be scared shitless.

  Exciting as the “official” description of the escape was, the media are never satisfied with just one exciting version when other exciting versions are possible too. One candidate for president claimed that the hole in the courthouse wall was caused by a lightning bolt, which, since it was sunny and clear that day, had clearly come from the Ickie universe. The Protean terrorists could even hit us from their own universe. How could we possibly stop them!?

  A more sober candidate suggested that Muslim terrorists, angry at the ways the FFs in the Middle East were thwarting their activities, had tried to blow up the whole building but had managed only a one-foot hole in one wall.

  * * *

  The citizens of our great nation were divided on what to think about the Great Courtroom Disappearing Act. Those who still liked the FFs thought their disappearance was a gas. Those who were frightened of the FFs which, thanks to the hard work of the NSA propaganda campaign, and to the media’s love of promoting fear, was now more than half the country, were just frightened: the FFs couldn’t seem to be stopped.

  Two days after the Great Courtroom Disappearing Act, Louie-Twoie snuck into our house disguised as the end of a wet mop held by our cleaning lady, who was coming to do her once a decade cleaning. LT had at last mastered the art of speaking and he told us that things were getting interesting. Unfortunately, he had fine-tuned his English by watching Bugs Bunny cartoons for hours on end and had adopted that voice as his own. I kept expecting him to say “What’s up, doc?”

  Unlike with us humans, where things getting “interesting” means big trouble, for the FFs things getting interesting was the highest praise. After LT had told us everything, I think maybe “big trouble” is more accurate.

  Louie of course was again freed, but Abe had been captured and no one knew where they had taken him. Molière, Gibberish, Baloney, and Oops had now been added to the FBI’s ten most wanted list. That list was now so filled with FFs that American criminals were petitioning the FBI for a separate list just for normal red-blooded American crooks and murderers. They were feeling left out.

  It was only from LT that we learned that the FFs had had two plans to free Louie, a backup in case the bowling balls didn’t work.

  It was Gibberish disguised as Agent Whirl, and Baloney and Oops disguised as the two short security men he brought with him. They had hoped to convince the judge that Johnson was an FF in disguise and take Louie into custody themselves. When the bowling balls worked they simply disappeared out the door during all the chaos of everyone trying to stop the bouncing FFs.

  FIFTY-FIVE

  (From Billy Morton’s MY FRIEND LOUIE, pp. 383–386)

  But though Louie was free, more than fifty FFs were locked up around the world. As a result, Louie had contacted Machiavelli for a meeting with Agent Johnson and the head of the NSA, a guy named Epstein. The meeting would include himself, Molière, LT, Machiavelli, and Gibberish. The meeting took place in the middle of New York Harbor less than a quarter mile from the Statue of Liberty, on a yacht owned by bad old Harry Barnes. Harry had apparently come to realize how much he was enjoying his new
life being blackmailed by the FFs and getting less wealthy every day. Rumor had it that his personal fortune was down to two hundred million.

  Here’s LT’s account of that meeting:

  * * *

  “We’re here to talk about changing some of the game rules,” says Molière to Machiavelli and Gibberish and to Johnson and Epstein. “Too many FFs are in the penalty box. Our games aren’t advancing. We want to talk about a re-deal.”

  “Ah, you wish to surrender, is that it?” says Machiavelli.

  “Not exactly,” says Louie. “What we propose is to take a few of our players out of the game before they get killed. Let them go back to Ickie.”

  “Ahh.”

  Louie turns to Johnson and Epstein.

  “We propose that every FF in some sort of imprisonment be freed under the condition that he return to Ickieland.”

  “No way,” says Epstein.

  “Your side gets rid of the trouble of trying to imprison us and having to give us public trials.”

  “These creatures have committed crimes and must pay.”

  “These trials will hurt your side as much as ours. We will get to explain and defend our actions, giving us massive propaganda power. If you find one of us guilty all you achieve is keeping them off the streets until they die of natural causes. Or of suicide in your jails, an act you claim whenever an FF dies in your custody. Our proposal will let you get rid of them now—within a week or two.”

  “And besides,” adds Gibberish, “it’s a long American tradition to try to get rid of undesirables by sending them back to where they came from. A hundred and seventy years ago your people were red hot to send all the blacks back to Africa. Just consider us as particularly obnoxious blacks.”

  “That was back then,” says Epstein. “But this is the twenty-first century. Times have changed.”

  “So I notice,” says Louie. “Now you shoot blacks or lock them up.”

  “A bit like what you’re doing to us,” says Gibberish.

  “Damn it, we—”

  “In exchange for their freedom,” says Louie, “all imprisoned FFs will agree to go back to our Liberia: Ickieland.”

  “We should consider this proposal,” says Johnson to Epstein.

  “Why should we free any prisoners?” says Epstein. “We’re beginning to win this war. And besides, the only Protean who’s escaped in the last half year is this Louie here. All our Protean prisoners are effectively out of this war—or ‘game’ as you call it—whether they’re in your Ickieland or in jail.”

  “No, they’re not,” says Molière. “They can talk to the press, they can communicate with hundreds of other FFs even when they’re locked up in jail. As long as they’re here on Earth they’re in the game and powerful players in the game.”

  “And what do you FFs gain by having fifty or sixty of your friends return to Ickieland?” asks Agent Johnson.

  “We’d know that friends whose lives are now in danger are safe,” says Louie. “They’ll live to play other games.”

  “But I’m sure you must think that somehow it also helps your side in its efforts to destroy our civilization,” says Epstein.

  “Not at all,” says Louie. “And besides, we don’t want to destroy your civilization. If we’d wanted to do that we could have done it in a couple of hours a year ago. Relax, we’re on the side of life on Earth—even human life.”

  * * *

  The next thing LT told us made us realize how serious Louie must think things were getting. In FF lingo “serious” is the worst things can be. LT told us that the FFs were planning the first great worldwide conference of FFs to take place since they’d arrived a year ago. FFs from all over the world were to gather in the ocean off the East Coast of the United States to decide if any of their games should be abandoned, or have their rules changed, and what new games various FFs wanted other FFs to join. Many would swim to the meeting place, while others planned to buy, rent, or hijack seaplanes or high-powered sea-going yachts. The business portion of the conference would take about thirteen minutes our time, but then most of the FFs would want to hack around and play a bit with their ocean friends. Then, in less than a day, it would be back to playing around the world.

  When we asked LT how many FFs would be there, he said he wasn’t sure since FFs were creating little FFs all the time and their population was exploding, but his best estimate was about 2,207. Some FFs didn’t want to abandon the games they were playing and thus couldn’t make it. When Lucas asked if it wasn’t dangerous to gather so many FFs in one place and whether they worried about the Government finding out and trying to kill them, LT said: “Well, FFs never worry, Lucas, but we’re aware of possible countermoves.”

  “You’d better be,” says Lita.

  ITEM IN THE NEWS

  A FEW MORE DEFINITIONS FROM THE NEW PROTEAN DICTIONARY OF AMERICAN USAGE

  ALI, MUHAMMAD: Black American boxer who changed the culture of sport and was wise enough to see through the lies of the nation he was born in and stand up against them. A one in a million human being.

  ANOTHER IDEA: What the universe generates whenever a human being comes up with a plan.

  BELIEFS: Organized systems of thought whereby humans fool themselves into thinking they know something.

  BITCH: Female dog. Also female human having a bad day. See asshole.

  BULLSHIT: Term used by human beings to describe most human discourse. See baloney.

  CONSUMER: A human being in an advanced civilization.

  COPS: Uniformed officials of the state used to keep the poor in their place—usually jail.

  GOD: An imaginary entity given different attributes by every human being. Considered by many to have created man in his own image. Yet few blame him for this.

  HUMAN BEINGS: The planet’s way of committing suicide.

  ICKIES: Intelligent creatures from Universe 699B-234 (Boodle Map). Very full of themselves and not to be trusted.

  INHERITANCE TAXES: Taxes encoded in law to distribute some of the excessive wealth of the rich to the general population and to give the people a slightly fairer chance to play in the money game. Currently being dismantled by the wealthy and their representatives so that the people won’t have a slightly fairer chance to play in the money game.

  KING, MARTIN LUTHER: Civil rights activist who opposed American military invasions of other countries, opposed the inequalities of wealth, opposed suppression of labor, and opposed his society’s efforts to keep black people as second-class citizens. Remembered only for the last.

  KISSING: One of the better human inventions.

  LEGAL SYSTEM: A complex system of laws designed to keep in place the established system of government and financial dealings. Like all systems in modern capitalist nations the system works for people with money but not for those without money. As a result people are prosecuted for breaking trivial laws involving very little money, but rarely prosecuted for crimes involving millions of dollars.

  MILITARY–INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX: Those corporations, defense department agencies, congressmen, generals, admirals, mercenaries that work assiduously together to increase the power of these corporations, defense department agencies, congressmen, generals, admirals, and mercenaries so that the nation may continue its journey toward self-destruction. A famous Republican president warned the nation about the growing power of this military–industrial complex. All that is now remembered of him is that his name was Ike.

  MONEY: The be-all and end-all of modern civilization.

  OLD AGE: State reached at different ages by different people. Considered by some humans as pretty much a disaster and others as a mellow old time full of fun. Brains don’t remember, arms don’t lift, feet don’t run, penises don’t rise, sounds don’t register, food doesn’t taste, friends all die, but otherwise a mellow old time full of fun.

  PENIS AND BALLS: Human organs noted for acting independently of the brain. Leading determinate of male behavior.

  PRIMITIVE MAN: A human being who i
s not a consumer.

  PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL: The sport that legalizes black men hitting white men as hard as they want. Favorite sport of black men.

  SAUDI ARABIA: The country that contributed fifteen of its citizens to killing more than two thousand people at the World Trade Center, that suppresses most women’s rights, that beheads people on a regular basis, that contributes money to support Sunni terrorists like ISIS, that bombed Yemen back into the Stone Age, and has been America’s favorite nation among Arab countries for more than seventy years.

  SLEEP: State in which human consciousness rests. Often not distinguishable from waking state.

  TEENAGER: Human between the ages of thirteen and nineteen. Noted for doing things which human beings over the age of thirty desperately wish they could still do.

  TWITTER: An internet site that permits human beings to share profound thoughts and serious philosophies in two sentences or less.

  UNITED KINGDOM: US aircraft carrier lying off the coast of Europe, used for bombing Arabs in various places in the Middle East and Africa.

  WALMART: Famous for shifting hundreds of thousands of jobs overseas, paying its employees low wages, driving thousands of small companies out of business, and making members of the Walmart family billionaires. Consistently voted by the Chamber of Commerce Corporation of the Year.

  ZEN: An Eastern mode of thought that appears to be strikingly similar to Ickian non-thought.

  FIFTY-SIX

  (From THE OFFICIAL HISTORY OF THE ALIEN INVASION, Volume II, pp. 279–282. Notes from the second half of the meeting on August 2nd of the National Security Team after the removal of Rabb and Minelli. Some of the material has been redacted for the purposes of national security, but will be released in three centuries’ time.)

  SECRETARY MCKAIN: There you have it, Mr. President. We know now that Protean terrorists can impersonate human beings. They are thus even more dangerous to us than we had realized. But even without this latest outrage of our brave sailors being murdered in the Persian Gulf, we know the Proteans are every day destroying our economy and our way of life. Their seducing of so many of our citizens into their Forthehelluvit activities has made normal business life difficult, if not impossible. The stock market is down more than forty percent. More than a dozen companies have gone into bankruptcy. Unemployment has soared to a level not seen since the last big recession in ’08. We are losing our power to suppress the Sunni and Shiite terrorists in the Middle East. Our nuclear deterrence has become compromised. If we don’t eliminate the Protean terrorists we’re doomed.