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“USAF Flight 312 to UFO, you are ordered to change course and land immediately.”

Y: “Kay, I don’t think they are friendly.”

K: “No shit, Yuri! Let me try. Hello Air Force guys, we’d really like to see Arizona, so if you could please tell us where to find it, we’ll be on our way. Oh, right… thank you... and over.” This female voice had what appeared to be a mild southern, perhaps Texan drawl.

“Negative UFO, change course 1 2 5 degrees north, drop speed to 200 knots and reduce altitude to…”

K: “I don’t think they are friendly. I can see they’ve armed their weapons. Not that they can hurt us or anything. Let me try again. Hey Air Force Guys, I can see a city up ahead, how about I just nuke the city out of existence then keep on nuking every city I see until you tell me how to get to Arizona? There, that should get us some directions.”

“Major,” another voice broke in. “They sound like a couple of bimbos who aren’t smart enough to pull into a gas station and ask directions. Maybe we should try another way…”

K: “Gas station? Yuri that just might work. Thanks guys!” The flying saucer suddenly dropped and reversed direction instantly accelerating to a speed faster than the jets could imagine and were off the radar screen within seconds.

“Control, this is flight 312, the bogie has changed direction and accelerated to a high speed. We are unable to pursue. Can you confirm?”

“Affirmative Flight 312, the bogie accelerated northwest to mach 10 and is off our screen. Come in boys and I hope your recorder and cameras are working. The Brass is going to shit kittens over this.”



***



The gas station attendant was sipping his coke as the flying saucer landed. It didn’t really land so much as it came down, hovered a few feet off the ground as a hatch opened on the lower bulge and two women exited to stride toward the station. The attendant couldn’t hear the slight humming but he did see the guy pumping gas into his Volvo stare until gas spurted from the tank. He had plenty of time to watch them approach. Both wore bluish coveralls, almost form-fitting to show that they were women and very well built women at that. The shorter had long black hair, the slightly taller had medium length red hair. Both had monkey-like tails and carried handguns at their swaying hips. Ordinarily when approached by anyone with a weapon, he’d hit the panic button that summoned the sheriff and craw under the counter but this time he just stared, open-jawed.

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