Interview with an Alien

Early one Turing morning, I happened upon a friendly gentleman named Allen. He was sitting at a bistro table in the park, enjoying his cup of morning java.  I must admit I could not contain my bafflement at his odd appearance, as our eyes soon met and he invited me to join him.

Allen

“Good morning, Sir Ebi,” he started. “Quaint place, this. Venture here often?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” I replied.

He chuckled at my response. “Right enough. Outstanding job they’ve done here.”

“Eeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr,” I responded.

“My thoughts as well,” Allen answered. “Listen, I don’t mean to be a bother, but I’m looking for someone. Name of Weaver. Any thoughts?”

“Eieieieieieieeieieie,” I offered. “Eoooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“Fair enough. Well, if you see her, tell her I’ve got a message for her from my boss. And she and that Ridley Scott fellow won’t like it one bit, I tell you.”

“Uhnnnnnnn?”

“Exactly,” Allen stated. “They had their fun, now the bills are due.”

“Ooooo!”

“About right. Well then, I’m off, Sir Ebi. Afraid I’ve a flight to catch, so to speak.  I bid you good day.”

“Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikk.”

With that, Allen got up and turned away.  As he rounded the corner, he glanced back,  shook his head, turned forward again, and tripped over a fireplug.

Picture 10/12/08

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