“Hey,” Professor Frink said as he walked into the office, “I’ve gotta joke for you.”
Johnson didn’t even look up from his paperwork.
“A computer geek is crossing the road when he sees a frog who starts talking to him. It tells him that if he kisses it, it will turn into a beautiful princess and be his slave for a week. The geek smiles and scoops up the frog only to put it in his pocket. The frog begins to protest, but the nerd says, ‘Look, I haven’t got time for a girlfriend. But a talking frog, now that’s neat.’”
Johnson replied with, “I’ve got a joke for you. A man in black is crossing the road when he sees a frog that begins to speak to him. It tells him that if he kisses it, it will turn into a beautiful princess and do his bidding for a week. The man in black says, ‘You do not exist,’ then pulls out his gun and shoots it.”
Frink, already browsing his computer, forewent a reply to the joke and said, “Looks like there’s a computer geek in Racine that crossed a road and saw an alien.” After Johnson glanced up, Frink divulged. “According to his blog, Thomas Burton of Racine county has found a small oligodendrocyte that he claims did not come from this planet.”
“Is it hostile?” Johnson asked.
“It hasn’t appeared in newspapers, so I’m guessing the alien hasn’t harmed anyone so far.”
“I meant, is the technophile hostile?”
Frink snickered. “Let’s roll. I’ll call Andy and Bionic.”
***
Thomas Burton gently patted the diminutive creature on the head. It shifted happily under his touch. He was expecting his friend Todd to come over soon. Todd loved the alien almost as much as Thom did.
Then the phone rang. Thom picked it up, wishing he could secure the line like in the movies. “Hey,” a voice said. Thom recognized it. “Todd here. Dude, you have to look out your window at the street.”
Thom took the unusual advice from his friend and slid cautiously to the window. He peeked out from his second-story room to the street in front of his house. Thom panicked when he saw what was there.
An antique black sedan. Tinted windows. Stopping in front of his house. Thom watched the doors pop open and three black suits come out. One looked straight up at him.
Thom raced back to the receiver, “Shit, Todd! It’s the MiB! What do I do?”
Todd didn’t respond. “Hello?” Thom asked. Nothing. Then a high-pitched beeping. The line had been cut.
A knock came from the door downstairs. His mother went to answer it.
Thom raced to his computer. Always on, he began to post a new blog entry. When he clicked the “Submit” button, an error 404 page came up.
“No,” he said with dying hope. He tried every trick he knew, including restarting the computer. He didn’t have any more time.
Heavy footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. Thom had to get out any way he could.
***
Johnson cautiously pushed open the door a crack. Andy and Bionic had their gun posied, and soon the three burst fully into the room.
Nothing.
Johnson jabbed two of his fingers toward the bathroom and nudged his head toward the closet. The other men moved toward the sub-rooms.
As Bionic kicked in the bathroom door, the men heard glass shatter and a scram.
“He jumped,” Andy said as they raced into the bathroom.
As the agents peered out the large, broken window, the saw a twisted human figure splayed face first in a splat of bushes.
***
Thomas Burton stood up, still aching. He didn’t even bother to look back up at the agents. He just ran into the street, his alien buddy following. He thought he heard one of the MiB’s exclaim something like, “My God, he’s naturally that ugly? I thought it was the fall . . . ,” but Thom ignored it.
He dodged traffic, looking for an exit. Then he turned into a random alleyway. A dark alleyway. An alleyway safe from those men that wanted to take away Thom’s alien friend.
Then Thom heard a voice.
“You have change, sonny?”
Thom looked around and saw a homeless person in a blanket squatting next to him. The man’s hand was outstretched.
Before Thom could answer, the homeless man was snatched by an amazingly fast pair of hands and dragged deeper into the alley.
Thom turned to run, but a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.
Well, well, well,” a lilting voice began, “What do we have here? Master might be pleased if I bring back this one. Much better than the vagrants I normally bring.”
Thom dreaded the end. He didn’t now who or what this thing was, but it looked like it wanted to take Thom for some nefarious purpose.
Then the thing outstretched a gray, withered hand. It grabbed Thom’s alien friend and pulled it into the darkness with the words, “I’ll take that.”
Thom huddled against a wall and kept his eyes squeezed shut for what seemed like hours. He only opened them when he sensed bright light and heard heavy, familiar footsteps.
“Where is it?” the man in black asked, shining a flashlight directly into Thom’s eyes. The computer geek squinted and said, “Something took it.”
The men appeared to look at each other before one of them asked, “What took it?”
Thom’s response of “I don’t know” caused the lead man in black to grab him by his shirt collar and drag him up against the wall. The man repeated the question.
“I don’t know! He said something about bringing it to his m-master! He killed that . . . bum! He killed the guy!”
A different man in black shined his flashlight further into the alley and said, “Blood. He’s telling the truth.”
The man in black holding Thom let him down and turned to the others. “Notify our superiors. Put out a search for a loose Gangrel, possibly a Nosferatu. Contact any local lords and find that EBE.” Then he turned and walked out of the alleyway. The other two shortly followed, leaving a confused and scared Thom behind to wonder about what secrets were being held from him.
***
“Too bad you had no luck finding that feral vampire,” Professor Frink said back at the office.
“The paperwork following that operation frightens me far more than the concept of a loose Gangrel with a pet alien.” With that, Johnson stamped a 10-inch-tall pile of papers on his desk.
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