The Things from Somewhere Else... by Christopher W. Jack and Todd Tolls

One day, somewhere in the future though not so long ago there was this guy. This guy was an ordinary guy, just like any other guy who is perfectly ordinary. This guy had a job (a good job), in the place doing the thing. He was well paid to do the things requested by the job in the place. Sometimes this guy does so much stuff in the place that he has to go out on a Friday night and get drunk. He likes to get drunk to relieve his mind of the pressures doing the things he has to do at the place.

But this guy had a hat. It was a really nice hat. It was much better than other hats which were not so nice. It was this hat that attracted that girl to this guy. So having discovered their mutual affection for nice hats, that girl and this guy went back to his place to do “it”. You know, “it”. Come on don't make me say it. We're all adults here.

So after a long night of “it”, that big, bright, yellow thing appeared high up there. This guy felt something because that girl was no longer with him in the place. Also she had taken the brown thing by the whatchamacallit where in he kept the stuff to get stuff with.

This guy got out of the soft thing where you are not awake in and proceeded to the place where the wet stuff is that makes you not dry and not dusty.

Passing by a large thing that you see yourself in, this guy noticed that there were many new things on his you know what that were not supposed to be there.

You know, don't make me say it. Those things that cause extreme discomfort and don't look nice on your you know where.

This guy said something not so flattering about that girl who was no longer at the place. This guy decided it would be a good idea to go see the man who makes you feel better when you have things on your you know what.

So this guy got to where he was going somehow and then something happened at the place where he was going. Some words were exchanged, ideas were expressed.

Stuff like that.

On this guy's way back from seeing the man about giving him the stuff for his you know where, he was taken by some things from somewhere else to the nameless void that is not here but elsewhere.

At some point, something happened but it was not determined what it was so it was deemed unimportant. Then later something else happened that was also not important thought it was slightly more important than the something that happened before but it is not important.

This guy could not move any of his things. Also he could not help but smell warm, crunchy slices of bread but that was not important.

The things from somewhere else cut off the do-hickey from the thing that tells the guy what to do, but later they put it back so it is not important.

But what is important is that the things from somehere else began poking and prodding his you know what with instruments that were designed specifically for poking and prodding in the you know where.

He noticed that the thing that was previously on his you know where were now somewhere else he did not know where.

With all the stuff mentioned before now permenantly behind him, this guy went back into his place and made himself a nice plate of warm, crunchy bread.

“Mnnnn”, he thought. “That's good warm, crunchy bread” , then died the following year of malnutrition.

Who the hell is Christopher W. Jack anyway? Clearly a man with a lot of time on his hands. We're talking seriously inordinate amounts of time.