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Outer Limits Immigrants Outer Limits Immigrants
by Leah Sellers
2008-09-12 09:00:15
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“Whew! Pass me that tumbler of ice tea, Hank. The rest of those weeds in the garden will just have to wait.” Ladybug eased into her favorite rocker on the front porch. “I could fry eggs on top of that bald head of yours it’s so hot this mornin’.”

“Ha! You just try it. You hear about Harvey seeing those Orbs again?

“You mean those UFO floaty lights he keeps claimin’ to see around that air force base outside of Stephenville?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, can‘t say that I have. Bocephus, stop peein’ on my tomato plants. Go on, dog. We have got to do somethin' about the ticks on that dog. They’re gettin’ so big they’re gonna carry him off one day.”

“Not likely. That ole hound dog weighs at least seventy pounds. Anyways, Harvey says he saw some of those lights again a couple of nights ago when he was workin’ his graveyard security shift over at the plant.”

“Out stargazin' again, was he? He’s always been a Stargazer. Remember when he bought all of those glow in the dark stars with his piggy bank savings and stuck ’em all over his ceilin' so he could sleep under the stars at night - ha?!

“Yes, I do. He always was a ’peculiar’ child.”

“He’s not peculiar, Hank. He’s ’special’.”

“He and that group of friends of his chasin' around the countryside after extraterrestrial beings - their tall Nordics, the big headed, bug-eyed gray skins, and let’s not forget the reptilian ones. Yeah, they’re all ’special’ alright. Huntin’ after ET’s that are supposed to be beamin’ down here and runnin’ experiments on our livestock, impregnatin’ our women, cuttin’ around - foolin’ around with human beings any time They please. Sounds more like some governmental or private corporation’s secret going's-on and cover-up, if you ask me. But of course, nobody’s askin’ me. I’m just Hank. Plain ole Rancher Hank.”

“I just wish that Boy would settle down. Meet a nice girl from town and raise a family. I don’t want to have to worry about Harvey bringin’ me Home a Grandchild surrounded by shiny, flyin’ orbs, with a head as big as a basketball, and huge, lidless, buggy black eyes!”

“Hank, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Well, I’m not! I’m plumb tired of hearin’ that Boy spout off about flyin’ plasma orbs that make you feel things you don’t wanna feel and then disappear into thin air, and spaceships zippin’ around that goldurned air force base out there outside of Stephenville. We’re sixth generation Texans, Ladybug. We’re practical, salt of the earth people. That Boy’s chasin’ nothin’ but Fairytales, Propaganda and Nonsense!”

“What if They’re Immigrants?”

“Immigrants?”

“That’s what I said. What if they’re like the Folks from Mexico and Everywhere else on Earth. What if They’re just lookin’ for a place of better Opportunities like We have here in America? What if They’re Immigrants? Immigrants from the Outer Limits?”

“Hogwash! Invaders is more like it. Them and Everyone else like them!”

“If People all over the World had the same Opportunities, Freedoms and Rights that Americans do - They wouldn’t come here at all. They would stay Home. Just like Us, Hank, They’d just stay Home.”

“That would be fine with me - more than fine.”

“We will never see eye-to-eye on this topic, Hank. Just like that dadburned Fence - or Wall - or whatever else you wanna call It that Our government is buildin’ down along the Rio Grande - down along Our Texas Borderlands. That’s a ridiculous Idea! Fences are meant to be jumped! Walls are meant to be climbed over or broken down - just like that Wall over in Berlin years ago! That Thing sends out All the wrong messages. Christ told us to find Ways to Mend Fences not to continue buildin’ ’em! That Fence - That Wall is a dadblamed waste of Our precious Time - Our Energy - Our Tax Dollars! Our Attention and Our money needs to be going toward Our Country’s health care, education...”

“Oh, please, Ladybug. Please, let’s not start up on This conversation again, Honeybun. All I want is for Our Son to stop chasin’ after pipe dreams - extra terrestrials in funny suits and cigar shaped space ships. It’s probably all some governmental or privatized hoax anyway. The Spaceships are probably some Time Warpin’ war machines of mass destruction and Invisibility that Somebody’s been workin’ on for no tellin’ how many years meant to take control of the Universe for all We know.”

“Hank, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not the Ridiculous One. Where’s my jar of Moonshine?”

“I thought you were savin’ that batch to start that ole hybrid tractor engine you and Harvey have been tinkerin’ with?”

“I am, but I’m gonna have me a sip of that white lightnin’ first.”

“Hank, it’s not even noon yet. It’s too early for You to be sippin’ Yourself blind on Moonshine. You need to save that batch to try out on Your hybrid engine, Honey.”

“What has the World come to when a Man can’t drink what He wants, when He wants?!”

 With that proclamation, Hank emptied his sweaty tea glass, quickly set it down upon the table (deliberately missing the protective coaster), gave Ladybug his infamous ’one-eyed’ glare and singularly uplifted eyebrow, hefted himself up from his rocking chair and stomped down the front porch steps without another word. His tick-laden hound, Bocephus, faithfully padding after him, wagging his long, skinny tail. Both were headed back toward the Barn and the hybrid tractor engine which would later run on Hank’s homemade Moonshine (known in scientific circles as Ethanol).

Ladybug continued to rhythmically and methodically rock in Her chair while sipping on Her mint tea. “I Love that Man. I love My Boy. I love My Country. But I’m still ponderin’ what to think about Nonsensical Border Fences and Walls and Outer Limits Immigrants.”


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