Armageddon Blues
I picked a bad time to be President.
When the alien ship landed on the White House lawn, you just knew they meant business. The landing wasn't very spectacular at all. There were no bright lights and noise, no flashing death rays, nothing movie like or exciting at all. Just a plain gray metal saucer (it wasn't even shiny!) that only hummed a little as it landed. It clanged a little, then a door opened letting out five pure white aliens with plain gray jumpsuits and big black eyes. They walked up to the nearest Secret Service man and said "Take me to your leader." which he did, after all, despite the joke and everything else, you just knew they meant business.
Have I mentioned that I picked a bad time to be President? I did? Oh.
Anyway, at that moment I had been reading a report on the state of the world's ecology. I won't bore you with the title, it was long and
pointless, just the way Congress likes it. I had commissioned the report myself to keep my campaign promise, the purpose being to assess just how bad off the Earth was. It took thousands of scientists years to gather all the information. Every detail was checked and
rechecked, every measurement recorded and confirmed. Make no mistake, all three hundred forty nine typewritten pages of the report were accurate. Unfortunately, the news they contained was also very bad.
The Earth had less than a decade before the damage caused by pollution, overpopulation, and all the rest of the things people do, caught up with us and started to kill us in earnest. Some of us would starve, some would succumb to disease, some would suffocate on the stuff we call air, most would kill each other over dwindling resources from a planet that will have lost the ability to support its inhabitants. The worst part was, there was no way to save us. Only if every human being were evacuated right this minute, would the human race survive, even though the Earth still wouldn't. But how do we move everyone, and where do we move them to?
See what I mean? Bad time to be President.
So the aliens were shown into the Oval Office. Without any hesitation, they stepped right up to my desk and said, "We are here to take possession of your planet. It has been awarded to us by what you might call The High Galaxy Council. You have not paid your taxes to said Council. We have paid your taxes and claimed Title of this planet under Galaxy Law, Chapter XXXII Liens and Mortgages.
The humans inhabiting this planet will be exported to an uninhabited planet. All belongings except personal clothing will remain here to
offset the costs of your unpaid taxes and subsequent eviction and transportation. Our people will then settle this planet. The loading
will begin in three of your days. Anyone not prepared will be taken anyway. Anyone resisting will be arrested and removed anyway. That is
all."
All business, like I said.
It seemed damned crooked what they were doing, but did I complain? Of course not. These sharks deserved what they were getting. Namely a polluted and doomed Earth. That's when I messed up. I smiled and said all the right things to sound like I was caving in without a fight. Then I put the report down. One of the aliens noticed it.
Before I could do anything, the alien picked up and began to read it. Real fast, too. Maybe a page every couple of seconds. And I could tell he wasn't skimming, he got every word. He must have, because this all white alien actually got paler. The alien finished and put the report down, then turned to the other four and burbled something. It almost sounded like a binary computer code. It only lasted a few seconds, but now ALL the aliens were looking peaked. One in the back actually fainted. Another mumbled something about visits
to polluted planets not being covered by his medical insurance. All of them were grabbing bits of cloth to cover their mouths and (noses?) to protect themselves from our so-called air.
Without another word, they picked up their unconscious member and went back to their ship. I called after them, "Are you still going to move us and take our planet?"
I was quite sincere, I assure you.
It turned out the aliens weren't armed. Judging from the looks on their faces, they would've shot me dead on the spot if they had so much a peashooter.
That was pretty much it. They got in their ship, closed the door. It clanged a little, it hummed a little, then it left forever. Of course CNN and
other news services had it all live, except what happened in the Oval Office itself. I would have to make some kind of statement. But what to say? 'Hello, everyone. Planet's doomed and so are we. Alien con men and Real Estate Developers almost saved us, but I blew it. Have a nice day.' Yeah, I could see me getting re-elected on that.
I picked a bad time to be President.
THE END