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I never thought I’d have to live the rest of my life without my right hand. But that was before it happened. I woke up this morning thinking it’d be just another day in paradise. I drank my fruit-vegetable shake while contemplating the mysteries of the universe, but suddenly my dreamlike reverie was shattered by the burst of blue light emanating from my microwave.
Hmmm, I thought, why is that bizarre ultramarine-coloured stream of photons exiting my kitchen appliance? Surely the aliens don’t want my toast. They never have. The thing was, the aliens did want my toast.
“Greetings, Earthling,” one said as it crawled out of the microwave. “Hand over the toast or we toast your hand.”
Sarcastic aliens are the worst, I thought. Little did I know that sarcastic aliens were the least of my problems. That didn’t occur to me at that moment because I was being surrounded by sarcastic aliens demanding my toast and looking hungrily at my hand. Despite their attempts to disguise it, most were salivating enthusiastically. My hand was beginning to burn a little.
“Hand over the toast,” they insisted insistently. Reflexively, I clutched the piece of perfectly golden brown whole wheat bread covered in delectable grape jelly the perfect ratio of smooth-to-crunchy peanut butter closer to my chest, not caring that it would stain. My toast had to be saved.
“No,” I replied with vigor and the belief in the fact that I would save my toast.
One of the aliens, the fifth from the left, glanced towards the bluest of them all and eagerly asked, “Can we do it yet? Can we? Caaaaan weeeeeeeeeeeeeee?”
“We will tell you again,” said Mr. I-am-so-very-blue, ignoring his subordinate that had just spoken. “Hand over the toast and we will not toast your hand.”
I frowned, not liking their ultimatum. On the one hand (no pun intended), I was fond of the idea of having–and keeping–all ten digits, but on the other, I was very partial to my toast. Making a split second decision, I ran out of my kitchen. Before long, the pounding of extraterrestrial boots could be heard throughout the house. But, Alleluiapraisethechoirofangelsonhigh, I had a plan.
Even if the aliens found the blueprint of the house that was sitting on the table by the television in the living room, they would not know that I had a secret laboratory under the basement. When I reached said place, I shouted, “Release the Rhino!” at the top of my lungs. The doors parted and I was safe.
It was only later that I realised my right hand had been severed and was now sitting on the other side of the steel portal I had come through. Oh well, at least I have my toast and left hand, I told myself. And I’m not human. Thank God for those starfish genes grafted into my already multi-species deoxyribonucleic acid.
After five minutes of patient waiting, I realised it had not been starfish genes but actually star-nosed mole genes the mad scientists had used. By then, though, I was already half dead from blood loss so there was nothing else I could do but eat my toast.
vane 3071: This book taught me so much and I even began to think, no wait know, it's important that people of all ages learn more about it. I may only be 14 but all we've always been told is that there the "special kids" that they have "issues", basically that they weren't normal. If we were to associate wi...
Jasmine Chow: As I read this story, I was reminded some what of Terry Pratchett, especially some descriptions of politics and economics. The sci-fic setting is quite intriguing. Writing style is quite lovely and grew on me slowly. I was also slightly reminded of Mark Twain, especially his book A Connecticut Ya...
William Elliott Kern: Whew. one telling his story, in the Bar, to his friend, who questions some circumstances that need clarity, The Confusion comes from a man, carrying his dead friend Chappies, while conversing with himself, and Chappies, and his alter ego......a broken mind, not yet forgotten..........The Author ...
Lydia Sherrer: I first read The Speaker almost a decade ago when I first discovered author Sandra Leigh. I loved it then, and I still love it now. It is a simple, easy read, yet deep in meaning and rich in storyline. I do not know what kind of research or prior knowledge Leigh has of First Nation tribes, but sh...