Will David Boyer, the Vincennes, Indiana Plagiarist Help Fight Planet Tilt?

An anonymous souce inside the Global Climate Change Conference held last week inside Moscow Elementary School has told this reporter  new scientific evidence was unveiled which explains Catastrophic Climate Change and places the blame squarely on David Boyer, the Vincennes, Indiana Plagiarist.

Professor Fyodor Borovsky later confirmed this to myself and five scruffy streetside vendors in exchange for a signed photo of Elvis.

"It is bolshoi fact Citizen Boyer is totally respnsible," he explained.  "He has piled copies of his plagiarized stories on the edge of town and disguised them as a volcano.  This is too much weight- the accumulated mass of his plagiaries has tilted the axis of the earth."

"Is that possible?" I asked.

"But of course!" he said.  "Have you seen how many people he plagiarized?"

"Hmmm," I said.

It was a cold day in Moscow and I didn't want to be there, but stories like this are worth following to the ends of the earth.

"Yes, now you see, don't you?" he cackled.   

"No, but what can be done?"

He eyed me suspiciously, then leaned over and whispered, "We must work together to fight planet tilt.  Russia and China will do their part.  We can plagiarize millions, maybe billions of stories.  In ten or twenty years, maybe if all the Chinese work every hour of every day, we can plagiarize enough stories on this side of the ocean to tilt the planet back."

"Will it be in time to avert catastrophe?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said.  "What do you want?  I am no Rasputin."

"What can we in America do to help?"

"Good, good- you are excellent world citizen.  Speak to this Boyer.  Plead with him.  Ask him to begin walking his manuscripts east across your fine country to help tilt the planet our way.  It will take him 30 maybe 40,000 trips, but if he starts now, it may not be too late.  Appeal to his conscience to help save the planet."

"Your plan has a flaw," I said.

"It is Russian plan. It is bolshoi good, fuck you very much.  What could be wrong?"

"For starters," I pointed out, "he doesn't have a conscience."

Alien Police Close in on Boyer

At precisely eight o'clock this morning, David Boyer, the notorious Vincennes, Indiana plagiarist poured himself a cup of fresh coffee, put his tin foil hat on his head and turned the TV on as he sat down to compose a trial list of imaginary ailments to excuse his crimes.  He was in the middle of descibing his baffling allergy to Doritos as a medically documented cause of wanton plagiary, when a TV news flash caught his attention.

The astounding announcement that Gort, the most famous alien policeman of all time, was coming to Vincennes, Indiana to deliver to him an ultimatum so terrified the prevaricating plagiarist that he literally crawled across his kitchen table to get a closer look at the picture.  Fear squeezed Boyer's heart and slowed his pulse to near Yogi levels.

Dean Koontz, he thought.  Somebody must have told him that I ripped off Dean Koontz.  They love Dean Koontz.  Gort will lock me up in an asteroid until I turn into a mummy.

With his still nicotine stained fingers, Boyer turned up the volume.

"So," the announcer was asking the giant alien policeman, "is it true that you're walking to deliver a message to David Boyer on the first of April?"

"Gort, Klatu, Barada, Nikto, Boyer," said Gort.

"Is that all you know how to say?" asked the announcer.

The TV screen flashed bright red like a ruby on fire, and when the eerie radiance faded the announcer had disappeared and the visor that looked like Gort's alien eyebrows pulsed with a palpable anger as though it were ready to shoot out another terrible disintegration ray.

"Gort, Klatu, Barada, Nikto, Boyer," Gort said again.

Somebody must have told him I ripped off Clive Barker, too, thought Boyer.