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Dude, Where’s My Alien?: Alien vs. Predator

July 13, 2010

CRASH! Sweatshop doors slam open.

“Migra!” Workers bellow in unison. Chaos erupts; workers scramble—even the legals.

Agent Simon Sez, I.C.E. agent, races inside, weapons drawn like a Western gunslinger.

His super-duper I.C.E. posse stumbles inside, assumes the position.

“Freeze! The building is surrounded!” Booms Agent Simon’s Michael-Buffer-voice.

 Community groan.

Workers, resigned to their fate, face the I.C.E. windbreakers.

Simon turns to Agent Bob, “Do you see him?”

“Would you give it up already? He hasn’t been caught in fifty years. What makes you think you’ll catch him now?”

Simon juts his chin. “I got a tip. He’s here. I know it.”

 “He’s never here.”  

Agent Bob motions to the workers. Heads lowered, the workers shuffle into single-file formation. From the back of the line, workers discretely pass forward an item hidden in their palms.

 Agent Bob addresses Worker No. 1. “Papeles.” Worker hands over palmed contents—a green card. Agent Bob writes on his clipboard.

Simon eyes the worker. “Have you seen Tio Pancho?”  Worker shakes his head.

Simon stomps forward, “Have any of you seen Tio Pancho?” Heads shake in practiced unison.

 Simon whips out the cover of TIME magazine…a photo of Tio Pancho adorns the cover…

                                                 

                                                                   “ALIEN VS. PREDATOR”

Simon shoves the magazine in a worker’s face, veins bulge from his neck…

“Dude, where’s my alien?!”

Shoulders shrug.

Agent Bob hands back green card to the worker, turns to Simon. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

Simon rubs his chin. “He’s here, I know it.”

Worker No. 1 slips his green card to Worker No. 2…just in time to hand it to Agent Bob.

Simon struts through the work areas, searching, searching…

The last worker in line hands over the sloppy seconds green card. Agent Bob glances at it. “Uh, are you all related?”

Nod, nod, nod.

“People, ever hear of birth control?”

Workers Shrug.

Agent Bob twirls a finger in the air. It’s a wrap. Agents head out. Workers head back to their work stations.

“C’mon, Simon, let’s go grab a beer.”

“Be right there.”  Bob disappears, leaving Simon behind to comb over the place one last time. He flips opens a cupboard, searches.

Behind him…

 

Wild, Visine-red eyes crowned by disheveled hair pop out of a trashcan.

Tio Pancho!

Agent Simon stops. Sniffs the air. He suddenly turns.

Whoosh! Tio Pancho disappears.

“Did you see something?”  He points to the closest worker, then to the hideout, “Out of that trashcan. Did you see anything?”

Head shakes.

Simon heads to the trashcan, lifts the lid, lowers his head into the opening…

KAPOW! THUMP!

Like Speedy Gonzalez, Spiderman & John McClane, Tio Pancho flies out of the trashcan, knocks Agent Simon aside…

“What the…?”

Tio Pancho zooms past….Pause…he suddenly zooms back…

“OOOOOOUCH!”

In time to give Agent Simon a fierce wedgie.

WHOOSH! Tio Pancho dives out the window.

 Agent Simon digs inside his butt crack.

“I’m gonna get you, you frickin’ alien!!!”

The walls shake…“EEEEEEE-YOOOOOWWWW!!!”

Rage percolates through Agent Simon. He points an accusing finger at the workers.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t see or hear Tio Pancho?!”

Community head shake.

“That’s it. I’m taking you all in.”

“But we got green cards,” pleads worker No. 1.

A smug grin saturates his face. “I’m Migra. You’re Mexican. Need I say more?” He wags a thick bundle of plastic handcuffs. “We’ll let Washington sort this out while you’re all detained.”

Community groan.

Behind Simon, Tio Pancho’s red-streaked eyes pop out through the window. His overgrown eyebrows rumba.

To be continued…

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One Comment leave one →
  1. July 13, 2010 3:47 pm

    I love that Predators movie. Everyone should go see it.

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