Is it wrong to eat people? Read online

  The Alien was the most extraordinary thing Uncle Mick had ever witnessed. Its face looked like a hundred people had eaten the most disgusting and gruesome things they could, then thrown them up into a Big bucket that was then frozen and tipped upside down to be worn as a head. The alien also had a horrible smell, like when you fart repeatedly under your bed covers then foolishly put your head under. All in all, the alien looked and smelt like something that grew on mouldy cheese, and not at all like any wacky Bigheaded aliens you might see on a trading card.

  Even though the alien was gruesome it still conformed to the universal archetype of the "intelligent' alien, in that the alien was an erect biped, head at the top, feet at the bottom. With arms and mouth and such pretty much where you would expect them. This alien was very short and was standing on a chair.

  "What do you want?" shouted Uncle Mick loudly, like English people shout at foreigners in the belief that the louder you speak the better they'll understand you.

  The alien ignored his question and came closer, smiled and shouted back, "Are you scared?"

  "N..nnnnn..nno" blatantly lied Uncle Mick.

  "I just feel disoriented."

  "Good" smiled the alien "for this is the Disorientation Centre."

  "Oh that makes sense."

  Uncle Mick rubbed a red-raw hand across his eyes.

  "I demand you release me"

  "Demand, demand, you'll demand nothing of the sort, and like it" replied the alien nonsensically before pressing a button that sent a shock through the chair Uncle Mick was sitting on.

  "Oh, my fingers! My arms! My legs! My everything! Argh..." shouted Uncle Mick as he twitched and wiggled about.

  The alien seemed pleased "Are you scared now?"

  "Yes, yes” replied Uncle Mick still wiggling about.

  “Good, good” said a voice from above

  A cool soft tentacle stroked his forehead.

  "Now tell me what you know of aliens"

  "Um, I, um it's um well"

  Uncle Micks fumbling answer was interrupted by an unexpected source.

  "I believe that aliens are a positive force to help earth kind, including porcine, into a state of enlightenment, peace and happiness. We see aliens as purveyors of knowledge from a highly developed and benevolent race." orated one of the smaller pigs that had been captured along with Uncle Mick.

  "Really" said the alien as it walked towards the piglet, before picking up its cage and giving the piglet the "no one likes a smarty pants" look.

  "Now tell me what you really think"

  The piglet, called Thaddeus for the record, gave a nervous cough before replying: "Aliens have long been the fear in our lives, the bogeymen, the fear of fear, the fear of being attacked randomly, of bad things just happening. Many people also believe that aliens are a metaphorical enemy, in that the "aliens" are a metaphor for the more real "menace" of Communists or terrorists."

  The alien swayed its head back and forth in a manner that indicated that it was not too far from the truth.

  "Go on, tell me what do your earth kind think that we want" asked the alien

  The little pig still looking nervous continued:

  "The vast quantities of doomsday forecasters predict that an extraterrestrial presence on earth will have cataclysmic results for earth kind. According to them Aliens will invade the planet if they have not done so already and take control of earth kind as a slave race or they will simply destroy us as a threat."

  The alien look a bit taken back: "well they are right you know, I mean some humans have the funny notion that we travel vast light years just to find some isolated spot and land right by some poor soul whom no one's ever going to believe and strut up and down in front of them wearing silly antennae heads before making graffiti in a corn field, ridiculous don't you think. I mean do you honestly think we would come all this way with a message of peace, or to collect flowers or to regale you green peace style with making a mess of the only planet you've got, I mean its all just stupid."

  "Your going to eat the humans aren't you" said Thaddeus

  The alien looked surprised

  "Go on I'm interested"

  "Well", intoned Thaddeus “If you use the metaphor of the "food chain" to describe the culinary interconnectedness of species, and you rank the value of plants and creatures in a hierarchy whereby the more worthy comestibles rate higher on that chain and follow this pattern through to its logical end, then humans should be the finest gourmet delicacy on this planet”

  The alien then turned pulling himself up to a most unimpressive height "interesting but wrong, I am not going to eat you. No I am Spandex, and I am are here to dominate you"

  Any further posing was however cut short as a heavy screeching sound came from behind him as a panel slid back, from which emerged another taller alien dressed in a cheese costume.

  Spandex rubbed his tentacle over his face

  "Not now Xlizoblob" said Spandex.

  The cheese suit wearing alien said something, but it came out as a weird mix of sounds like a cat, wrapped in jelly, being tickled with a bagpipe.

  "You need to turn on your translator"

  The cheese suit wearing alien fiddled with the dials of a black box which hung at his belt.

  "Testing, testing." Said XLIZOBLOB

  "Go away now Xlizoblob"

  "Ha, ha I am not Xlizoblob I am the Big Cheese!" said the newly arrived alien still fiddling with his knob, well its better than putting fish in you ear isn't it.

  Up close Uncle Mick could see that the cheese suit wearing alien was also wearing a transparent eye patch.

  "Don't stand so close to me, Xlizoblob. I've told you about that before. With you on one side and Blchinghodhim on the other, pointing to a third even taller alien who was entering the room, "it's like being in a hole. You only do it to make me feel insignificant"

  "No, commander, you are not insignificant. You are not insignificant at all." Said Blchinghodhim, the alien who just entered the room

  "No, not by any means. Three foot seven is not small."

  "Three foot seven and a half, and soon to be conqueror of earth. Not bad, eh?"

  Spandex paced up and down. As he paced he combed his hair forward across his forehead and thrust his left hand into his shirt.

  “We will remake this planet just how we like it. We will turn the cities into car parks, where I can ride my bike all day and the farm lands into theme parks, the fjords into waterslides, and the icebergs into ice rinks, and I'll be able to go out as late as I want, and mum wont be able to stop me."

  “Ha ha” he added as an after thought.

  "Your so clever Spandex, We can make sausages into hotdogs." Suggested Xlizoblob

  "Yes I am very clever" Spandex replied.

  "Well if you are so clever" interrupted Blchinghodhim "why have we always failed in taking over the universe?"

  "I've done it this way to let the universe be lulled into a false sense of security."

  "Ah, clever, clever, so not incompetence and your stupid plans, and the fact you cry every time and run to mother if we don't let you be the boss."

  "Now earthling," Spandex said ignoring the others yet still clearly enjoying Uncle Micks' discomfort, before turning, and briskly walking to the middle of the room, where stood an immense object covered in a red velvet sheet.

  "We are going to use the blender on you." indicating towards the velvet covered object.

  "The what?" cried Uncle Mick.

  "You'll see," boomed Spandex pulling off the velvet sheet with a practised theatrical movement. This revealed a giant metal box with two massive arms sticking out of each side, at the end of each arm was a massive set of tools which looked like a Swiss army knife gone mad.

  "This is the blender", smirked Spandex "and we are going to use it on you just as soon as we adjust the instruments. The last animal we used it on was a Ugarian Bull Wopamus and some of the parts are proving difficult to remove."

  Spandex then went and had an a
nimated discussion with a small unassuming alien stationed near the machine. He seemed to be some sort of repair alien.

  "Well ok then," said the alien eventually after much tinkering by the repair alien. "Right here we go, turn her on and let her rip."

  The huge metal box made an eardrum-bursting screech and started to shuffle towards Uncle Mick. He still had no idea what the machine did but he guessed that anything that had as many wildly turning blades and cutting devices as this one couldn't be up to any good.

  Interestingly there is a growing tendency to think of humans as rational beings, which is absurd. As the machine trundled towards Uncle Mick he proved this point, as instead of carefully and clinically weighing the pros and cons of his situation, he resorted, as even the most basic of creatures do, to blind panic. Uncle Mick screamed and started to hyperventilate, dropping any pretence whatsoever of trying to be brave.

  Now when under extreme pressure and danger, the experts (Experts are usually people in labs coats who turn the antics of rats into scientific papers and journal articles) say a person will do one of two things; they will either fight or take flight (run away). Now as far as Uncle Mick and indeed the pigs were concerned it was hard for them to take flight, as they were securely strapped into place. So that left really only one option, and that was to fight.

  So as the cutting arm of the machine came closer to Uncle Mick he summoned up all his strength, wrenched his arm free of its bond, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process, and took a swipe at the machine. There was a loud clanking sound and the machine was not in anyway completely destroyed as you might expect. Uncle Mick didn't make even the smallest dent and merely added a hurt hand to his already aching shoulder.

  The alien turned his smirk up a notch "that didn't do much good did it!"

  The repair alien merely sucked his thumb in a "I don't think that's covered by your warranty kind of way."

  Now when you cannot fight or take flight and you have panicked and that has failed then there is only one thing really left to do and that is to try stalling tactics and hope some opportunity comes along in which to save yourself. So that is what Uncle Mick tried now. "Excuse me Mr Alien," Uncle Mick squeaked as the machine's spinning blades rumbled closer and closer to his face. "Can you... you know actually tell us what is going on?" Uncle Mick asked very politely in the voice of one who knows that their only hope of escaping from their present predicament is reliant on the goodwill of another, who has no pressing reason to have any.

  "Well the victim, that is to say you, is strapped into a chair and sits in extreme comfort," said Spandex vaguely indicating the chair Uncle Mick was strapped into in a sort of game show this-is-your-prize kind of way.

  "Mood music is played to relax the victim, still you." In the background now that Uncle Mick strained to hear was a kind of elevator, please-hold your-call-is-important-to-us kind of music.

  It was then that a small pink alien entered the room carrying a bucket.

  The flunky walked towards the alien like an alien carrying something that might cause, if he dropped it or even thought about dropping it, something incredibly nastily unwanted.

  “What is it” sighed spandex

  “Problem with the last batch chief”

  “How so? “

  The flunky poured his bucket into a transparent container marked with liquid measure.

  “Oh dear”

  "What's that smell howled Uncle Mick?' looking pointedly

  at the jar.

  “These are the understains. The biological stains we get from our bodies. The filthy unpleasant stains you get from simply living. The nasty putrescent beastly excreted stains you can't mention. The foul pestilential ugly horrific smells. The corpusculent puss-filled emanations, the plaguey, ulcerous, febrile deposits. The nasty, contagious, nauseating, pyretic infections, the purulent festering, cankerous malignant vile running poisons and stains - oh I love them. I love them.”

  Smiled Spandex

  The flunky interrupted “A forensic report states on entering the baths the subject weighed seventeen stone nine pounds, and gaining all the time. According to this conversion table we should have had eight and a half imperial pints.”

  Spandex looked at the jar

  ... barely six pints. I need to say no more.

  The flunky intoned “I’m saying that is 2 1/5 pints short!”

  “Can't you top him up with a little tap water? “

  “I don't know, your Worship I just carry the bucket.”

  “If you really want to know what going to happen to you have a look in this jar" said Spandex motioning to the jar while turning to Uncle Mick.

  “What is that?” Uncle Mick

  “Well we reduced a man of considerable substance to a liquid state.”

  Uncle Mick was puzzled

  “What all of him?”

  “Yep”

  Uncle Mick was stunned

  Spandex smiled back without the least shade of guilt.

  "Look It's very simple, your matter will still exist it is just it will be in a different form. (Matter cannot be created or destroyed, nor can it be returned without a receipt.)

  "Ahh" screamed Uncle Mick "its just goo"

  "Indeed but very nutritious goo" said Spandex

  "I for one have no wish to be transmogrified from a living being, into what ever that is even in the cause of scientific progress" added Thaddeus.

  'Not a pretty sight, eh? Spoke Spandex.

  The flunkies' arm started to shake.

  "Do be careful. Don't spill any of that. That's concentrated. One drop of that could kill us all."

  Uncle Mick stared at the jar of goo and tried one last time.

  "But why do you have to kill us, couldn't we just donate blood or something?"

  "No, no I definitely need you dead, and as it takes too much time for you to become depressed and kill yourself I'll just have to use the machine on you."

  "Oh, I'm really not happy about this"

  "Nor are we" shouted the pigs as a chorus.

  "Could you at least tell us why you are doing this, I mean it's only fair really" said Uncle Mick in a very high pitched voice as the blades really weren't that far away now.

  “I could” said Spandex, “but I won't."

  "Please, please, please, pleasseee, pleasee, please, pleeeeease."

  Pleaded Uncle Mick.

  The last please was desperate as the leading blade took a nice chunk of hair off Uncle Mick's comb-over which had fallen in front of his eyes.

  Spandex smiled his infuriating smile again.

  "Oh, ok then, just because you have asked so nicely we have prepared a whole presentation on this very subject".

  The alien then clapped two of his hand-like things together and hit a big red switch on the side of the machine, turning off the spinning blades, which started to slow, but were still less that a hand breadth from Uncle Mick's face.

  Now I'm sure you know that when there is a bad guy with a terrible plan to take over the world the bad guy always tell the heroes when he has invariably captured them the extravagant way in which they are going to kill them.

  The aliens had taken this idea on board and had decided that the most economical way to tell what they were going to do was to get the company who made the machine to make a full presentation about the terrible things the machine could do. The alien had always meant to show Uncle Mick this but since he or it, I mean who can tell with aliens really, wasn't a nice alien he or it or whatever had decided to make Uncle Mick squirm first. Nasty bugger isn't he, sorry, it.

  This is what the alien now relayed to Uncle Mick.

  Adding with a smirk that was now almost on the verge of a gloat "The presentation takes a full two earth hours then I turn the machine on and you die ha, ha."

  Then the alien pushed a button. A wall panel moved aside to reveal a large view screen. An image appeared with a lot of static, and the sound cut in and out. The picture was of an alien dressed like a salesman. It
started talking.

  "Hello folks, the butchering corporation present the latest in blending luxury. The gmz60 Super fantastic all-automatic fluid extraction device. The gmz60 super fantastic all-automatic fluid extraction device gives you all the time in the world to do the things you really want to do. Add the infrared freezer-oven complex, which can make you a meal from livestock onto plate in fifteen and a half seconds, and you have a truly wonderful device and now to Sir Wertiyong Wiithetsdfgdhdncgd to explain further."

  The background changed to a blow-up of a fish bowl. A second older alien is sitting at a desk dressed like a scientist. It pulls the bowl over and starts to talk; a news bar starts to go cross the bottom of the screen.

  "This week we're going to learn how to feed a Humulin Bogwobbler. Now contrary to what most people think the Humulin Bogwobbler", the alien indicated the scrawny creature in the bowl, "has a ravenous appetite. If it doesn't get enough protein it gets very thin and its bones begin to stick out and its legs start to fall off. So once a week give your Humulin Bogwobbler a really good meal as if fed properly the Humulin Bogwobbler will grow to an enormous size

  A picture is shown of a massive version of the creature in the bowl eating a double Decker London bus. "To properly feed your Humulin Bogwobbler you need to use the gmz60 fluid extraction device as your death weapon of choice."

  Now as the whole presentation takes nearly two hours, Uncle Mick and his amazing, spellbinding, totally fantastic performing pigs had that amount of time to try to find a way to escape from being turned into Humulin Bogwobbler food. For dramatic purposes we will start a count down starting from:

  2:00:00.

  By the time I get to the end of this sentence Uncle Mick and his amazing, spellbinding, totally fantastic performing pigs will have: 1:59:50 Or one hour and fifty-nine minutes and fifty seconds to live.

  Chapter 3.

  Vaudeville farm was a farm very much in the picturesque, postcard feel of farms. Full of twisting stone walls and green always dew wet grass. It was quite a large farm, tucked snugly in a narrow valley between small towns and was by far the most prominent feature on any map of the area. Anyway around this farm Little and his family wandered for sometime calling out for Uncle Mick or indeed any of the performing pigs. However, no reply was forthcoming.