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Saturday, 17 March 2012

image for Queen mudder abducted by Alien Skoob1999!
The Alien sans clothing

LONDON (ABSNN)-Our beloved queen mudder was abducted by the nefarious skoob1999, an alien from the planet Marz Friday evening at 2335 GMT. She was attending séance at the West London home of Ms. Sarah Alton, a little know, but exceptional Physical Medium, one who not only can speak with the dead but can actually produce them, onsite!

According to an unnamed sitter, "There we were five of us in all, seated about a round table in MS. Alton's dimly lit parlor. Queen mudder was having a lively discussion with the late Pablo Picasso. She was taking him to task about his so called "Blue Period," that produced many interesting variations on female anatomy."

"Tell us what caused you to enter the Blue Period in the first place," queen mudder demanded. Picasso said he had heard Muddy Waters play the blues and thought he could artistically render the music in paintings, according to the sitters.

"All of the sudden, the shade of Picasso was rudely shoved off the tabled and a great white light filled the room, and an alien appeared saying, 'I ain't no ghost,'" said Mike Hunt, one of the sitters. "The odd little fellow dressed in a lumpy fedora, coke bottle glasses, ill-fitting dentures, and a long trench coat that stopped at mid-calf, white socks and mismatched sneakers."

"I've come for you, queen mudder. My orders are to probe you. Step into the light."

"I think not," queen mudder replied.

"Don't force me to use the crevulator on you lady; it ain't pretty."

"Where are you taking me," she asked?

"To Marz, but first we have to stop and drop off President Obama and Taylor Swift at her place. She is a little tired. She enjoyed the probe so much we never even got to Marz," the alien said.

"Well, I'll come with you; I have never been in outer space before and I believe it will be an exciting adventure," said queen mudder. "One of my readers might enjoythe story."

"That was that; she was gone!" said Mike Hunt.

But only for two and one-half hours, Earth Time, that is. She returned to the psychic's room before the séance ended. Next, she telephoned this reporter and dictated her story to me. It is word for word, the emphasis is hers:

"I got on board that silly little man's space ship. It looked small on the outside but inside it was very large. He walked me around the circumference of the craft the walls of which were divided into different chambers. There were several different species of entities aboard. I recognized Taylor Swift, whose clothing was in disarray as if she'd slept in them and then some. She had a glazed look in her eyes and she kept calling out the alien asking 'Is it time for my next probing?'

"I also passed a chamber holding President Barack Obama. He was standing near the force field that held each entity within their personal chamber. He held out a document that read 'Planet Marz-Official Record of Native Birth'. Apparently, President Obama is neither a natural born citizen of the United States, or even anyplace on the Earth. The alien told me that we would drop Obama off just before we went to Pennsylvania to deliver Taylor Swift home.

"The next few minutes were spent gazing at several hominoid type beings that apparently were in no mood for conversation, although I did try to communicate with them.

"Then we came to a door that opened into some sort of laboratory. Included in the furnishings were an examination table and some sort of hinged armed gadget that held a variety of probes. The alien, skoob1999, ordered me to lie down on the table and put my feet up into stirrups that looked exactly like the ones in my gynecologist's office. 'The hell I will,' I told the runt!

"He told me he could do the probe the easy way (which most humans liked) or the hard way, with the crevulator. I told him to give it his best shot. He went to a table and picked up an object that looked like a child's little red squirt gun. Then he spun around and pointed it at me.

"But I was ready for him and with a karate chop to his skinny (yet hairy) arm forced the crevulator out of his hand and I picked it up off the deck and pointed it at him. His already pale skin turned puss like and he begged me not to press the trigger. But I did, with gusto!

"The effect of the crevulator is amazing. One short blast had him removing what little clothing he had. I got a very good look at his alien body. His chest had six nipples, all pierced with silver bolts. His hairy belly had three navels. His hairy crotch revealed five penises, the longest about two inches, the others each shorter than the next. He saw me smirking at his 'package' and shouted, 'I'm cold; it's because I'm cold! Just look at my scrotum!' I did not look at his scrotum.

"I ordered him to turn around and he did so while covering his hindquarters with his hands. 'Put down your hands, fellow; I've seen a man's arse before.' He dropped his hands. Yes, I have seen a man's arse before, plenty of them. But I had never seen an arse like his and hope to never see one like it again! There were nine gluteal folds! He told me that on Marz, 'we speak out of our arses. We can speak to nine people at one time in nine different Marzipan languages. We also sing, play musical instruments and eat…' 'Enough I told him; you are making me ill.'

"I ordered him to get dressed and get back to the controls of the ship and send me back to the séance. He begged me to go to Marz because if he went back without me, his boss would sew up his arse-mouths and he would slowly starve. I told him that was his problem and my problem was finding out from Picasso what his Blue Period was all about.

"We dodged a few comets and asteroids before approaching Jupiter-Venus, the conjoined planets. When we passed through the asteroid belt and passed Mars, the blue Earth began to get bigger and bigger. A minute later, he allowed me to leave the space ship, from the light, back into the séance room."

"Hey, queen mudder, can I have my crevulator back," he asked.

"No, I'm going to have a great deal of fun with this crevulator. I'm going to use it on Picasso to get to the truth about his damned Blue Period. And he did have that great bald head and long fingers...you know what they say about bald men with long fingers..."

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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