The Day the Cookie Was Killed

Breaking news on the television set.
Now you see the skyline of New York City on your TV set.
Three flying saucers are just hovering there
A few hundred feet above the buildings.
Hovering. Just hovering.
Making a strange whirring sound
All silver and shiny they are
Like the one that landed on that baseball field in that 1952 movie.
You can hear some traffic in the streets, but not much.
Then, the occasional screeching of brakes
As some driver comes around a corner
And suddenly sees those saucers,
And puts on the brakes.
There they are.
Hovering. Just hovering.
You also hear the hubbub of excited voices coming up from the streets.

Then you hear it off the right side of your widescreen TV
Booming out your surround sound…
At a distance.

The roar of Godzilla…
The crashing of monstrous feet…
The human cries of panic…
And the trauma of final moments.

Then you hear it again.
Even more murderous and terrifying than the first roar.


Then you hear it… AGAIN!
Much louder!
Much closer!
The screams more graphic.
Crunching crushing sounds…
You know not what is getting crushed…
Or who.

And then…
And then…

A purple Cookie Monster comes bouncing into the scene
And you know what happens next?


And there go those three spaceships
As flying saucer pieces and alien body parts
Rain down upon New York City.

That is some damned AWESOME acid my friend!
Where can I get some more?

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