I’m not talking about the kind of alien that made this country great.
I’m talking about the kind of alien from outer space. My neighbors, you see, have this oddly shaped garage:
What possible use could this garage have for a terrestrial vehicle? It is way too tall, even for a Hummer. No, this garage was custom-built for a flying saucer of the UFO variety. Imagine the aliens putting their craft down in the cover of night. They jump out of their interplanetary ride, turn it on its side, and quietly roll it into the garage. Boom! No one’s the wiser.
Further giving this away as a garage for a UFO, it opens both in front and in back. Why would you need to drive your car into the backyard? Nobody does that. The occupants of this otherwise unassuming house need this garage to roll the UFO straight into a hangar, cleverly disguised as a Tuff Shed, where they can refill its fuel and make any repairs necessary for the ride home.
Which kind of aliens are living right down the street from me? I have yet to determine. The lack of laser blasts and human enslavement lead me to believe they are the good kind of aliens, but this could also be a cover. They could be part of a sleeper cell, waiting for the right moment to awaken the fury of distant worlds.
What am I to do in the meantime? Now that I know for a fact that there are aliens less than a football field’s distance from my front door, I must be vigilant. Do I see suspicious activity in the area? Gatherings of two or more beings wearing fedoras and trench coats? Lights in the sky that could be some kind of interplanetary Morse Code? Cats going missing overnight? These could all point to alien collaboration, propagation, infiltration. I never, not once, imagined moving to this neighborhood would require me to save Earth civilization as we know it.