A really quick freewriting exercise. I’ll probably never finish it, but just hang with me here.
Just a warning – this thing is quite strange.
On Organ Players and Martian Rovers
Iridescent glass ascended into the heavens, accompanied by a very loud organ player. The player of the organ did not have an organ with him at that moment, but that did not mean he wasn’t loud. He was quite loud. The glass echoed his cries for help.
It could not be stopped. All the scientists on earth had tried to stop it. It had been an imminent disaster, and they knew it. Why it was that one lone organ player had been chosen, they didn’t know.
He was rising higher into the clouds, suspended on what looked like nothing. Of course, this was the glass, but it is incredibly unnerving to have what looks like no barrier between you and a very long fall; this is especially disconcerting when you do not have a parachute. Bill didn’t have a parachute. He didn’t even have a shirt on.
Thankfully, he had had the foresight to wear a pair of pants, though. The suns rays sent their light inside the glass, refracting onto Bill’s killer abs. His longish hair was blowing in the wind, which he thought strange since he was in a giant glass bubble. He looked up. An invisible force was pushing air inside the bubble. His feet rose above the ground amid his cries of, “What the [blank] am I doing in this [blank] [blankity blank blank] thing!?” (The previous section of dialog has been edited for the kiddies). He was rising toward the top of the bubble, and, to his surprise, as he passed by the lip of the opening, a long corridor became visible. It was like he had just passed through into some other dimension, and only now had it become visible. The ship was protected by a massive cloaking device, the workings of which are unknown to humans and also far beyond human comprehension.
Bill couldn’t comprehend it, since he was human, and because of this fact presently died.
He wasn’t that great of a guy anyways.
The ship had been spotted on the sensors years ago. Evidently extraterrestrials did not assume that humans had the ability to observe (with the help of some really, really complicated humdrum that you would not understand) cloaked ships. It was an accident that the ship had been discovered in the first place, which was probably why the aliens had not assumed humanity’s advancement had gotten that far. It hadn’t been advancement – not by a long shot.
It had happened in a small, worn-down, thatch-roofed hut owned by a man in Nigeria. Concocting plans for a new scam, he came up with one. It went something like this:
ALIENS COME FROM THE STARS. I AM A US GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL OBSERVING THEM FROM NIGERIA AND I NEED YOUR BANKING ACCOUNT NUMBER TO SEND MONEY TO THE ALIENS SO THAT WE CAN APPEASE THEM. THEY HAVE COME FROM MARS AND ARE HEADED THIS WAY.
Unexpectedly, even to himself, it just so happened he was right.
That same night the US government received footage from the Mars rover. It was on a spaceship.
This spaceship was spacious and clean. It seemed to be nearly empty except for one robot on the far end of a long corridor. This robot saw the rover, walked slowly over to it, picked it up and tossed it out of the ship. The rover flew out of the ship, up into the air, finally stopped rising, and then fell down into a very large chasm. It managed to send all of the data from this encounter in time before it smashed into the bottom of said chasm. It never sent another picture.
When the footage arrived, people were startled. Shocked, in fact. The ship’s cloaking device had hid it from everything – until the rover just so happened to run right through an open door.