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The Green Mistress
(An Abduction Tale)

"I told you we was lost, Claude. Lord I could use a smoke right now. Can't you call triple-A?"

"We're fine, Roz. Can't call triple-A cause I don't have a phone and my arms and legs are strapped down. Not to mention, I'm buck nekkid."

"I'll, say, Claude. Woo hoo."

"So are you, hon. And I don't want no towtruck driver lookin' at us all buckled down in our birthday suits."

"Got a point, pumpkin."

"If we was able to call, that is."

"Claude, were we gettin' kinky last night? Something don't seem right. Where is all that bright light coming from? D'you leave the TV on?"

"You're the one that falls asleep in front of Jerry Springer or Jay Leno, while I'm reading something worthwhile, like Tom Clancy. But what the hell, you got a point, Roz. Where in fuck's sake are we? You're nekkid. I'm nekkid. We're on some kind of stainless steel things, like -- holy shit -- operating tables."

"Are we in the hospital, Claude?"

"Don't know. Can't see the walls for the light."

"Are we in heaven?"

"Not heaven, Roz. Maybe purgatory."

"I'm nude as a bluebird, Claude, and I don't feel horny at all. Just a trifle odd."

"Me too, babe."

"Tell me again why you can't call the triple-A?"

"Don't have my membership card with me, Roz. Besides, all they can do is bring a can of gas or offer a tow."

"Why are we tied down?"

"There must be a reason, hon. Wait a minute. Do you see that black line in the white light? It's growing. Now it's a rectangle."

"There's a woman standing there, Claude."

"Pretty shapely, too, by the likes of it. And she's green. I'll bet she's an actress from that new Capt. Kirk show."

"You mean William Shatner?"

"Yeah, hon. You know, T.S. Hooker, the pre-op transsexual cop. The chick with a nightstick."

"I think I saw him on Springer. It was after Priceline went tits up."

"Roz, she's comin' closer."

"Claude, she's got big hair and big grey cat eyes. She looks like somethin' out of a Hemet trailer park. I don't like her one bit. I think she's some kind of kooky slut."

"Yeah Roz, 'cept this green goddess ain't got no you know."

"Lucky for you, Claude. I know how attracted you are to these exotics. But if she ain't got no you know, then you can't get in no trouble and I won't have to whup you upside the head."

"Hon, she ain't got no mouth, either. Now that's odd. But I can hear her sayin' something."

"I hear it too, Claude. Something about 'we'll be right with you' and 'enjoy.' "

"Enjoy my ass, she's packin' some kind of alien love probe. What is that thing? I think we better call George Dubya."

"Dubya won't take your call, I don't think. What could he do? Send Colin Powell here to deal with this green whore? Or roust Cheney from his bunker? And, Clyde, what is that?"

"It's a woody, dear. Can't help it. This creature seems to have some sort of power over me."

"Lordy. What would Oprah do?"

"Get her on the show, I reckon."

"How about that lady looks like Tammy Faye on the born-again network?"

"She gotta raise money for new satellites."

"Claude, you calm yourself! What is that Green Jezebel doing to you?"

"She's not like the grey ones, or the blue ones, Roz."

"Call the triple-A, Claude. There must be a phone in here."

"I'm tellin' you hon, we're not covered for any tows past one hundred miles, let alone one hundred million light years."

"I ain't raisin' no alien love child in our house, Claude."

"You don't need no never mind, Roz. I'm sure this green lady will do her spawning high in orbit."

"I told you we was lost, Claude. Better pull over before we drive off the road."

"We are pulled over, Roz. We're starin' at a bunch of joshua trees and shooting stars and it's 2 a.m. What were we just talkin' about? I got the most peculiar sensation."

The End???

-- J.C. McGowan 2002