The cops were at my house at like 1:30 a.m. the other night. It began when I got home from another evening of planned-debauchery-that-had-been-was-poorly- executed, and as I walked through my door, my roommate had a flashlight pointed at me and his loaded pistol in hand. My first thought was “holy shiat, paranoia much?” but then he was like “There’s someone in the backyard. I hear dogs barking.” And with that he was off through the back door in search of dragons to slayeth. So he ventured into the back yard with his gun probing the area for any would be prowlers. Under the pretense of providing some sort of token yet probably useless backup, I myself grabbed a 9 iron golf club and hung out at the back door while he was securing the perimeter and searching for remnants of who/what was supposedly hiding out there. I personally was hoping for the wreckage of a crashed flying saucer possibly containing something along the lines of the humanoid-plant alien creature from “The Thing from Another World”(1951 version.) So you can imagine how disappointed I was when after about 10 minutes, my roommate noticed the meager outline of a man’s leg, barely visible, lying there in the bushes.
Just before that he had discovered various piles of clothing scattered about the yard, which brought to mind visions of “Left Behind,” “Night of the Comet,” and “Little Monsters”… an unrelated trilogy of movies which feature people essentially getting turned into clothes for a variety of physics defying, scientifically unsound reasons.
Anyhow when we found him at first we thought it was a dead body. He wasn’t moving or responding to voice commands of “hey buddy what the hell are you doing in my yard?” He just lay there motionless, partially clothed and buried deep within the thick uncomfortably thorny shrubbery.
So we called the police, and when the cop showed up they dragged the guy out of the bushes. At which point he woke up. Turned out it was just some random Mexican dude who had somehow meandered in there and passed out. Of course the guy barely spoke English, and all that he could manage to mutter was “My house, over there…my wife…7 month old baby” which when roughly translated using my trusty Lucky Charms decoder ring means “We need to revisit Eugenics and consider establishing intelligence tests to determine whether individuals are suitable for breeding.” The cops searched his pockets, and all he had on him was a pipe and a pair of women’s underwear.
