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GOG: Aliens? No, they're far, far worse than that

Image Credit: Compilation/Jennifer Stahn
April 24, 2014 - 7:15 AM


Ever since Orson Welles' radio program scared the Americans witless, (admittedly not a difficult thing to do) we have greeted with a combination of fear and fascination the possible existence of alien beings.

Well, I’m here to tell you they not only exist, they live, nay, thrive among us.

And we, poor saps that we are, inadvertently nurture and encourage them in their unrelenting mission to destroy the peace of our world. They are not hard to spot if you know what to look for. In fact, far from staying hidden they announce their presence at full volume, especially in supermarkets. They may occasionally appear harmless, but don’t be fooled, so did those Gremlin things at first. Bent on destruction, they are ruthless and uncontrollable. 

They are, of course, Other People’s Children.

OPCs are everywhere. In grocery stores, their hapless, hopeless guardians allow them to push loaded shopping carts into old people and shelves. In cinemas, they ask stupid questions in loud voices and practice their tap-dance routines on the back of your seat. In restaurants, their sole mission is to annoy diners with their mewling and wandering about.

But by the far the worst nightmare of any quiet-loving human is the presence of an OPC in an aeroplane. On no account should these creatures be allowed to fly. On a recent aeroplane journey an OPC beside me screamed incessantly for the entire duration of the flight while its parent, who had clearly been on the receiving end of some sort of mind-control operation these little beasts are capable of, sat grinning inanely. An exasperated stewardess eventually said “perhaps she just needs something to chew on.”
I suggested a wing and offered to open the emergency exit. The parent scowled.

Eventually OPCs complete the brain-washing of their minders and begin to congregate in packs. It would seem that convenience stores have a particular draw for them. This must be investigated: It is entirely possible that Mac's stores are actually the mother-ships.

By this stage they have expanded their arsenal of peace-destroyers to include thunderous music and farty little cars. They have given up any pretence of being of our species, even forsaking our language for a series of grunts and the infinite repetition of 'like.' Finally their vocal chords cease to function entirely, and they are forced to rely on thumb-operated communication devices.

It’s tempting to blame the parents, but this won’t do. They believed they would be raising miniature versions of themselves, not harbouring extra-terrestrial terrorists. They deserve our sympathy and assistance.

For my part, next Saturday I shall be in Superstore seeking out the glassy-eyed herders of OPCs and dispensing words of comfort. And cattle prods. Feel free to join me, but guard your ankles.

Those carts are bloody lethal.

Grumpy Old Git thought about having his own kids, but then his fever broke and his medicine kicked in.

News from © InfoTel News Ltd, 2014
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