Thursday, February 10, 2011
BoyerGate Flash! Giant UFO Sighted Over Vincennes, Indiana Before Entire Town Vanishes
Crop circle scientists were puzzled by the complete disappearance of the entire town of Vincennes, Indiana at 11:35 p.m. EST. "We saw these lights flashing in the sky and drove that way looking for some serious crop circles or cows dressed in women's clothing wearing lipstick," said the lead scientist. "Damned if all we found was this really creepy guy sleeping in his bed by the side of the road where his house used to be. He was wearing a pair of glasses with a big rubber nose and a shirt that said he wasn't David Boyer."
The mystery deepened when the entire town re-appeared five hours later fifteen miles northeast of where it started out. State Police were sent to investigate the reappearance of the town.
"Little kid called us," said Trooper DoRight. "Said a giant UFO flew over his grandpa's farm and stopped. He observed that it seemed to be spinning around and, according to the detector he built, it was emitting gamma radiation. He and his grandfather went out to investigate."
"He built his own detector?" I asked.
"So anyway," continued the Trooper, "shortly thereafter while the kid is dialing 911, he sees a big round hatch open in the bottom of the ship and then the entire town of Vincennes, Indiana drops out of it and lands right on top his grandfather. Squashed him flat as a plagiarist's heart."
"That's incredible," I said, holding my digital recorder higher so I wouldn't miss a word.
"Try this. When we arrived, we found out that every male in the town claimed to be named John Smith and every woman said their name was Mary."
"Gets weirder and weirder," I said.
So I started researching. Sometimes in the world of investigative journalism you get lucky, sometimes not. This time, I got lucky.
It seems that every three years since the day notorious Vincennes plagiarist David Boyer was born, giant UFOs hover over the town, suck it up and dump it a few miles away while Boyer is sleeping. I tracked down the former mayor of the little town and asked him what he knew about it. He was living in a cave outside of Boise, Idaho and agreed to answer my questions if I would bring him something to eat that was not a potato.
"We tried to move farther away," he said bitterly, "but we didn't have enough money to pay for but fifteen miles every couple of years. We were hoping some day to make it to Ohio. But the damned aliens charged us a fortune in saucer fuel to move the whole town. You can't negotiate with the little ETs. They got the monopoly on town moving."
"You mean these weren't alien abductions? Your town was paying them?"
"Yep," he said. "You bring any more pickles?"
"But why?" I asked.
"Because I'm hungry," he said.
"No, I mean why would you people pay aliens to move the whole town?"
"Not the whole town," he insisted. "We just wanted to get away from that stinking plagiarist. That's why they always left him behind."
"But what about the cows dressed in women's clothing and wearing lipstick that the crop circle scientists sometimes found?"
"Think about it," he grinned.
So I did.
And I grinned.