The Invader Candidate: From the Adventures of Khraa-Veh, Alien Explorer
Page 19
Donny and Ms. Teschmacher walked out of the classroom.
HOME OF MIKE BONHOEFFER
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
3:15 PM CENTRAL TIME
“You did a really good thing at school today, Donny,” Mike said to his son, gently stroking his head, “when you got help for Miss Walton.”
“I did only what you always tell me to do, Dad” Donny said.
“What’s that?”
“Love your enemies.”
Mike as overjoyed when he heard why Donny got help for Miss Walton.
“I’m glad, son” Mike chuckled happily. “I’m glad.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, Donny?”
“What’s going to happen to Miss Walton?”
“She was pretty messed up by her parents, son,” Mike said, “and she saw that her parents raised her wrong.”
“But she’s a Christian, a Baptist.”
“She is. But sometimes, Donny… Certain Christians can be just as bad at being parents as those parents who hate and don’t believe in God on purpose. There are two kinds of parents, son. Those who are too loose, and those who are too strict. I try, with the help of the Good Lord, to be Mr. Happy Medium.”
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“You do a pretty good job. Just wanted to let you know that.”
“Well, Donny,” Mike said humbly, “I’m not perfect, either. But it takes a pretty big man to admit that — and a pretty big woman, too.”
“Like Miss Walton?”
Mike was amazed at how Donny saw Miss Walton, one of the meanest teachers at Truman Elementary School, was beginning to be that kind of woman.
“Yes, Donny. Like Miss Walton’s starting to be.”
“Yeah.”
Mike and Donny gave each other a good father-and-son hug.
Mike then wondered aloud, “But I wonder what made Miss Walton snap?”
Donny said, “I dunno. Do you?”
“No, son” Mike said. “I don’t.”
OFFICE OF MALLORY STANTON
WASHINGTON, DC
SAME MOMENT (4:20 PM EASTERN TIME)
“ARRGH!” Stanton screamed as she stomped and paced stormily around her office. “That bitch Downey! There’s gotta be some sort of logical…”
Stanton thought that there just might be a logical cause, at least, something logical to her twisted mind.
Stanton paced more calmly and with deviously methodical slowness as she thought things through.
“There’s gotta be something. I’ll find out somehow.”
Her office buzzer sounded. Stanton walked over to her desk to answer it.
“Yes?!” Stanton snapped into the office intercom.
“Ms. Stanton,” spoke Stanton’s self-entitled secretary in her high-pitched voice, “Mr. Stanton’s here to see you.
Stanton paused for a moment, before she answered, “Send him right in.”
The door opened. Jefferson walked into Stanton’s office, where his mega-mean, shrewish wife awaited him.
“What is it this time, hubby-boy?” Stanton said with a harsh sneer.
Jefferson said, in a wimpish manner, “I just got word from 60 Minutes. They would like to do another —”
Stanton meanly ranted in momentary ignorance, “I don’t give a hoot about Dan Blather or Mike Malice or any —”
“It’s Dan Rather,” Jefferson said, “and he’s no longer with CBS. Remember the fallout over George W. Bush’s service record? And Mike Wallace is dead —”
“SO, WHO GIVES A HOOPIN’ FUNK?!” Stanton cursedly shouted. Jefferson slinked towards the door as Stanton said, “No interview! Tell ‘em that!”
“Jawohl!” Jefferson said weakly in mocking jest, while raising his right arm in a sardonically wimpish bent-arm Wehrmacht salute as he left the office.
“I’M NOT HITLER!” screamed an incensed Stanton.
Jefferson stopped for a moment, turned towards his wife, and said with wimpish wit, “If you were, my dear, Germany would have won, and we’d all be goose-stepping to the post office.”
Jefferson left the office and closed the door quietly, as Stanton stomped and screamed so loudly and fiercely she made a violently screaming banshee look comatose.
Cyber-bullying, a telecommunications-realm extension of in-person schoolyard bullying, had become all-too common in Earth’s Western civilization, especially in the United States and Canada. This form of brutal childhood harassment had taken a severe toll on already at-risk young Earthlings. And Val, too, was not immune to this dark phenomenon. She was victimized shortly after New Year’s Day by malicious girls whose souls were woefully malformed by pop culture heroines that were simply female “bigger bullies.” Meanwhile, their male generational cohorts had no real heroes at all outside of the “comic book universes.” Even the Star Wars saga became increasingly devoid of men like Luke Skywalker and Han Solo.
These all-too rife underaged North American bully-girls were in heinous danger of becoming the vilest mothers of all time, and thus discrediting severely both the bad and the good that various women’s movements had fought for since Earth’s Suffragette era of female sociopolitical activism. Also, Western world women should have asked themselves one crucial question since the Kennedy Era: what were women really seeking? Real sexual equality? Or were women simply using that as a combination catchphrase and ruse to conquer the Earth so they could liquidate male humanity? I often wonder if it was the latter — and malevolently on purpose!
Based on study after study by our scientists across the eons, we have found that any world where its females attempted such a gender-based “coup d’état” (to borrow an Earth-term) — or the gender reverse — ultimately ended up just like Rubiaar IV. That planet’s women tried to take over the planet to the point where its leading females employed use war-germ-armed long-range missiles to achieve those ends. Rubiaar IV’s patriarchal realms retaliating in lethal kind. And as is commonly known across the Known Universe, this gender war exterminated most of Rubiaar IV’s land-dwelling life, including its entire indigenous human population.
A potentially grave numerical lack of non-incarcerated, competent, just and honorable human adult females loomed over Western society. Men of Earth’s Western world, out of bitter necessity to keep the Western nations from slipping into anarchy and chaos, faced a dire choice: either allow the world to crash and burn for the sake of “political correctness” — or fight androphobic and Christophobic women like Stanton, their atheistic younger male “lapdogs”, and “the overall Left” to reclaim the fatherly mantle of leadership in a fair and just manner for the sake of Earth’s children that would fulfil the final verse of the Book of Malachi, whether they wanted to or not...
Dr. Khraa-Veh ven-Bonhoeffer
Admiral, Platinum-Class, AMKEXPRA (Ret’d)
My Cosmos-Spanning Memoirs
STUDENTS’ CAFETERIA, DOUGLAS MACARTHUR HIGH SCHOOL
MINNESOTA, USA
30 JANUARY 12:04 AM CENTRAL TIME
“Are you kidding me?!” Val said, in derisive disbelief, as she did up her sweater, and made sure her geek-basic outfit was devoid of wardrobe malfunctions. She and her chatty best friend, part-time model Brittany Brett, a 1980s Phoebe Cates lookalike big-haired brunette who, as always, was dressed in a retro-1980s baggy blouse and tight leather pants that day, chatted cattily in the slow-moving lunch line.
“I’m not!” said Brittany. “Mr. Gucci said he and his wife were going to star in a couples’ therapy film, in the altogether, actually getting busy for the camera!”
“Where did you get this piece of juicy news?!”
“He told us all himself!”
“No way!”
“Yes, way!”
“Val and Brit look sooo hot in the shower!” shouted the rough-looking boy behind them, as he and his fellow gang-bangers watched a video on a smartphone clandestinely taken in the showers of the girls’ gym. Glenn, who was right behind the boys in the lineup, saw a
bit of the video, got mad, and charged at the lewd boys!
“Hey! That’s my sister!” Glenn shouted, as he grabbed the boy with the smartphone.
“This ain’t your problem, Bonhoeffer!” said the smart-alecky raven-haired smartphone boy who had shown the vulgar video to his equally vulgar pals.
“Anything concerning my sister is, bad-ass!” Glenn yelled at the smartphone boy, before he was about to deck him!
“What?!” Val said, grievously mortified.
“Who shot that video?!” Brittany shouted, also grievously mortified.
APARTMENT 1214, BELLA VILLA APARTMENT COMPLEX
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
SAME MOMENT
Khraa/Astra, having received Glenn and Val’s shared psychic distress over the lewd video that exposed Val, Brittany and several of their friends in a showering naked state, trembled with terror!
“Computer!” Khraa/Astra shouted. “Immediately delete amateur porno video footage of Val Bonhoeffer, her friend Brittany Brett and the other girls taken in the Douglas MacArthur High School girls’ gym shower earlier today from the entire Internet and any record of its uploading and existence, and prepare a pan-planetary three-Earth-picosecond deep psych-burst into the minds of every human who watched that video!”
“Yes, Captain” Blue 1’s computer said, before it complied.
STUDENTS’ CAFETERIA, DOUGLAS MACARTHUR HIGH SCHOOL
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
SAME MOMENT
YOU DIDN’T SEE A THING, Khraa/Astra’s voice shouted within the minds of everyone on Earth who saw the inappropriate shower video of Val, Brittany and friends, as the video itself and any record of its uploading and existence was instantly deleted from Earth’s entire Internet. Meanwhile, Glenn and the smartphone boy were momentarily immobilized by Khraa/Astra’s stern telepathic suggestion as a deafening silence befell the cafeteria.
“What’s the trouble, boys?!” sternly asked Mr. Kendrick, the ex-Marine crew-cut blond school’s boys’ gym teacher as he walked over to Glenn and the smartphone boy.
Having received Khraa/Astra’s telepathic message, the smartphone boy said, “Uh, nothing’s wrong, Mr. Kendrick.”
“And you, Bonhoeffer?”
“Nothing, sir” Glenn said nervously.
The smartphone boy, filled with of remorse, turned to Glenn and told him humbly, “Look, Glenn, I’m sorry for everything about Val.”
“I forgive you, dude” Glenn said.
Mr. Kendrick, seeing that the two teenage boys made amends and all went quiet on the cafeteria front, decided to let it go. “You two keep your butts out of trouble, hear?”
“Yes, sir!” Glenn said.
“Me, too, sir!” the smartphone boy said.
“Okay, people,” Mr. Kendrick said, “there’s nothing to see here. Back to your lunches, and bon appétit!”
The crowd dispersed, and calm and order was restored. Val, though, was very puzzled at how the video suddenly vanished from cyberspace and why she heard Khraa/Astra’s voice in their minds.
“How did that video vanish from the Internet so fast?” Val said, baffled yet relieved. “And how did Astra’s voice get deep into my head?”
“Val,” the smartphone boy said, “How did Astra’s voice get into our heads?”
APARTMENT 1214, BELLA VILLA APARTMENT COMPLEX
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
SAME MOMENT
“I put it there, teen younglings” Khraa/Astra said firmly, having ended her satellite mind-scanning of the minds of Glenn, Val, Brittany, and the smartphone boy. “And you should all thank me for it.”
Yet Khraa/Astra was still puzzled about who made the vile video and why. She suspected that there was a logical explanation for this situation, but was too scared to contemplate it. Khraa/Astra had to work up the courage to determine who took that vile video footage of Val and friends in the girls’ gym locker room. She decided that an open-ended method of enquiry was the best route.
“Computer,” Khraa/Astra said, “ascertain from our own Internet-scan the person or persons responsible for the recording and uploading of the obscene video covertly taken of Val Bonhoeffer, Brittany Brett, and company in the girls’ gym shower today, the identity of the shooter of the footage, and the motive or motives involved.
A moment later, Blue 1’s computer spoke, “Identity ascertained, Captain. Footage shooter: Mackenzie Rosh, scientifically gifted female classmate-rival of Val’s. Motives: Teenage revenge, jealousy, and profit for 100,000 United States dollars paid by —”
OFFICE OF MALLORY STANTON
WASHINGTON, DC
SAME MOMENT (1:07 PM EASTERN TIME)
“ROSH!” Stanton shrilly screamed towards the ceiling. “That teen-queen bitch-diva Rosh! She blew it!! Blew it sky-high! ARRGH! But HOW?!”
She then said to herself, “I’ll have to take care of that bilker-girl Rosh…”
MORNING ANNOUNCEMENTS (EXCERPT),
DOUGLAS MACARTHUR HIGH SCHOOL
MINNESOTA, USA
31 JANUARY 9:04 AM CENTRAL TIME
“Students,” the voice of MacArthur High School’s Principal Michelle Kaufman sounded heavy-heartedly over the PA, “I regret to inform you of the passing of Mackenzie Rosh late last night. She died in her sleep from a cerebral hemorrhage.
“Ms. Rosh was an excellent science student, athlete and a sterling example of what a person can do if he or she would put his or her mind to it.
“A public funeral for the late Mackenzie Rosh will be held at Zion Synagogue. All MacArthur High students are welcome to attend. Expressions of sympathy for Ms. Rosh and her family can be made through cash donations of any amount to Ms. Rosh’s favorite charity, B’nai B’rith. Mack, you’ll be sadly missed by us all.”
Mike, too, eventually came under attack.
The most galling aspect was that the attack against my man came on a day on Earth’s Gregorian-based calendar set aside for lovers.
Love and war. At times, the two strangely seem to go together...
Dr. Khraa-Veh ven-Bonhoeffer
Admiral, Platinum-Class, AMKEXPRA (Ret’d)
My Cosmos-Spanning Memoirs
DIGBY’S RESTAURANT
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
14 FEBRUARY 9:07 PM CENTRAL TIME
“I’ve done a lot of thinking, Astra” a spiritually burdened tuxedo-clad Mike confided to Khraa/Astra, his heavy-heart showing in every word while relaxing, dinner-friendly light piano music played in the background during the restaurant’s special Valentine’s Day’s live band karaoke night. “And I mean a lot of thinking.”
“What about, baby?” understandingly responded Khraa/Astra, who was dressed in a pink evening gown.
“I — I’ve been thinking a lot about the kids… my job… my life… and you. I guess I’ve been with the FBI for so long that I’ve been far, far too close to the problem.”
“When someone’s got a major problem, they usually are.”
“But this has given me far too many sleepless nights. You know what I do for a living. I know what the Lord warns against, and what he commands us to do. Many of those words come from the mouth of Jesus Himself. And even though I’ve always striven to do my best to be the best follower of Jesus I can be…” Mike hesitated for a moment.
“Ever since I became aware of truthers…” Mike continued uneasily, “You know, God-fearing voices who thunder out the truth, folks like Lisa Haven, Alex Jones, Sid Roth, the Next News Network and yes, you…”
Khraa/Astra was flattered and moved by Mike’s honesty as he continued, “As an employee for the US government, I’ve had to stuff down the truth so much for so long that it really has taken a toll on me and my health. I had to not talk with the Agents I counseled about abortion, censorship by state and media, homosexuality, so-called ‘political correctness’ or even bare-bones right-and-wrong issues that were moral and legal no-brainers as late as the days when rock and roll was a brand-new music genre nicknamed “the devil’
s music’ and Ike — Dwight Eisenhower, that is — was president.
“But the clincher came,” Mike continued, in bitter lament, “when I learned of some child sexual exploitation ring that involved the FBI — my own Bureau — and practically every other government department. You, Lisa Haven, Next News and practically every other pro-Christian journalist and alt-news agency reported about it.”
“Pizzagate?”
“And Burritogate, and Moviegate, and too many other ‘gates of hell’ that make me sicker than a dog to my stomach. In fact, I couldn’t take all the physical gut-aches I was having, so I went to a Christian physician I know who’s a real Marcus-Welby-in-Christ. He’s a really frank Bible-believing guy who pulls no punches and doesn’t mind going out on a limb. I told him that I simply had enough of the stuff I just told you about. I also told him, Astra, that I’ve put most of my adult life into serving with the FBI, and that all started over 30 years ago.”
Mike went on in further lament, “Astra, I can’t live this dual life of a man who has Jesus as his Lord and Savior and working for a government that once championed the government’s non-interference with church as separation of church and state… but now defines it as the state being Orwellian-all-large-and-in-charge, and with church and faith being slowly snuffed out, degree by degree, by the state.”
“So,” Khraa/Astra said, knowing exactly what Mike was confessing about, “what did your Doc Welby in Christ tell you to do?”
“He looked me straight in the eye, Astra, and told me no-kidding flat-out, and I quote, ‘Mike, I know exactly what you’re talking about. I know you’re old enough to retire from the Bureau on a full pension. So, Mike, stop committing daily occupational hara-kiri, retire from your job, and live congruently and entirely for Jesus.’”
“What else did the doc say?”
“He told me to ask the Good Lord what He would have me do for as long as He allowed me to have a heartbeat, a pulse, brainwave activity, lucid consciousness, other vitals, adequate physical mobility — and to expect an answer.” Mike paused, reached out for Astra’s hand, and then asked, “Astra, if I turned in my FBI badge and gun, would you still love me and be on my side?”