I was sitting on my front porch, rocking gently in the wooden bench swing, enjoying the cool fall breeze. The air was crisp as the temperature was slowly dropping. The sky was clear and calm, allowing the stars to shine bright.
My dog was sitting at my feet, sleeping soundly. I took a long drink of my RC Cola before taking a bite of my chocolate Moon Pie. Without thinking I looked up at the moon at the moment. It too was big and bright, glowing as it was nearly full.
Suddenly my dog’s head popped up, smelling something in the air that I could not. That’s when I saw the little bastard with the big head across the street. My dog began to bark uncontrollably, pulling against his leash, wanting to take a bite out of the little bastard, another sign of an alien presence.
I dropped my drink, jumping off the swing, and ran inside to grab my sword. The only proper way to kill a Grey is to remove its big head. If you kill it any other way, the body will disappear and there will be no proof of the encounter.
As I came back outside I unhooked my dog’s leash and let him loose. He took off like a rocket, chasing after the Grey and I ran to follow. Turns out the little bastard was only a four houses away.
“Hey,” I shouted as I raised my sword above my head, ready to chop him down.
The Grey turned to see me and my dog running full steam toward him. He dropped his bag and started running away from me.
“You won’t make it to your ship,” I taunted as I caught up to him, his little legs were no match for me.
Towering over him I swung down but because of my forward momentum I missed. Seeing that I was off balance he tried to tackle my midsection, punching me in my balls, catching me off guard with his shortness.
I never heard of Greys fighting back before and now I know why, they have no strength. If the little bastard wanted to play, I could play.
I picked him up, lifting his torso onto my shoulder, before spinning him around once to gain momentum. I felt more like a pro wrestler than a Hunter. I was going to enjoy this more than I should, I could tell. I slammed his body down hard, the sound of his back cracking upon impact with the ground filling the silent air. He rolled slowly, trying to touch his back, moaning and cursing in Spanish.
“Looks like I caught me one of those Mexico City Greys,” I said to my dog with a smile. He continued to bark at the little bastard, jumping forward one step before jumping back, wanting to bite him but not wanting to get in my way. Lifting my sword once more, I taunted, “Guess you and your buddies should have stayed out of Texas.”
I swung down hard, cutting off his big head. As it rolled toward me I stopped it with my foot.
“I’ve always wanted an alien soccer ball,” I said, smiling wide, proud of my victory. I bent down to pick up the head and a human head fell out. Shit! Wrong type of alien! And that’s why I hate Halloween.
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