Huge Fucking Aliens


Juan was a man of business who wore a midnight blue Brooks Brothers suit and had his initials stitched into the cuffs of his shirt.

Juan was prepared for a lot of things; out of the way things even. Climate change, the uprising of the lower classes, Juan was even prepared for a global epidemic. He took Krav Maga classes and he did Crossfit. Zombies didn’t worry him. Juan was comfortable with serving sentient robots in almost any capacity. He was prepared for his own death.

Juan was prepared for almost anything, but he had pretty much ruled out weird as fuck, enormous aliens, which was a real shame because before any of those things happened, those things that Juan was prepared to be so smug about being prepared for, some weird ass fucking aliens just came out of the sky and started chasing people around willy fucking nilly.

“Oh Jesus Christ!” said one of Juan’s colleagues who only last Tuesday had been caught having sex with the boss’s husband. “Oh Lord Jesus Christ these aliens are chasing everyone willy fucking nilly!”

Juan grabbed his colleague by the shoulders and threw him back towards the aliens.

Juan ran faster and faster and faster, for hours, until he was way out in front of the stampede of humanity, past the outer edges of the suburbs and into the weird spaces where they put super highways.

Juan was just starting to think maybe he was prepared for this shit after all when another weird ass huge fucking alien fell from the sky directly in front of him.

“Son of a bitch!” yelled Juan. He took off his Brooks Brothers suit jacket and threw it on the ground. “What the fuck!” He picked up his jacket and he threw it on the ground again. “Fucking aliens! Are you fucking kidding me! God fucking son of a bitch dammit!”

The alien reached down with giant undulating gross ass tentacles, grabbed Juan and put him in his mouth.

Juan sat in there for a few seconds before he realized he was still alive. The alien was so fucking huge that the chances of the teeth actually coming down on the relatively tiny percentage of the mouth that Juan took up were miniscule. Especially once Juan started jumping out of the way. But the spit in there burned a little bit like some kind of minor acid, and it was hot as hell, not to mention it smelled like the inside of a weird fucking alien from outer space.

Next thing he knew Juan was falling from a great height and it was bright again. The alien was roaring and coughing and convulsing.

A wild eyed man with a black beard caught Juan out of the air and ran, holding Juan overhead.

Juan was too bewildered to say anything until they were down in a subterranean lair of some kind. There was a little fire and a typewriter and there were bottles and bottles and bottles of mass market liquors.

“What the hell is going on?” asked Juan.

“Aliens, you idiot!” said the man in the beard. “Aliens, god damn it, just like I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time.”

“You’ve been trying to tell me…?”

“I seen that alien take you up, would’ve swallowed you whole if I hadn’t shown up. Have a drink.” The man threw Juan an unopened bottle of Grey Goose.

“I don’t think it’s the right time for drinking.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” said the bearded man. “You’ve been traumatized by those weirdly enormous aliens.”

“Well, I can’t disagree with you,” said Juan.

“Drink, you fool bastard. Now we’ve got to act and we’ve got to act fast!”

“Agreed!” said Juan. “What’s the plan?”

“We dig!” said the bearded man. “We dig this way!” He pointed toward the corner of the cave farthest from the opening.

“Great!” said Juan. “What for?”

“To get away from the aliens, you idiot!” said the bearded man. “There’s two of us now, it’ll be twice as fast!”

“As what?” Juan asked.

“As before! What the hell don’t you understand? I been digging this hole for the last three years. I wrote a book on how to survive the coming enormous alien invasions, and I sent it out to you bastards, didn’t you read it?”

“Fucking hell,” said Juan. “Wait,” he said and paused. Then he said, “You say you’ve been digging this hole three years?”

“That’s right!” said the bearded man.

“How far does it go now?”

“What’re you blind? It’s near twelve feet deep now.”

Juan could hear the mayhem above ground still. He opened the bottle of vodka. “Damn, this bottle is a real bitch to open.”

“You said it,” said the bearded man. “I could sure get a lot more done every day if I didn’t spend half of it taking the foil off of these bottles.”

“Hm,” grunted Juan. He chugged as much vodka as he could, put the cap back on and tossed the bottle to the side. “Mister, let’s fucking dig.”

So they did.

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