Written by The Loony Liberal

Saturday, 6 October 2018

THE MOON – The extraterrestrial being known as Xenu expressed his rage and embarrassment that his primary opponent on Earth is the Cult of Scientology.

“Damn it all to Hell!” Xenu shouted, flailing tentacles in every direction. “What the Hell happened on Earth? Did all of your heroes DIE?”

Xenu turned bright red. “And did you see my Wikipedia page? I don't know who this L. Ron Hubbard bastard is, but he's just making shit up! I mean... just look! What if I made stuff up and called him a paranoid liar and bigamist?”

Xenu took a deep breath from his gills, then reverted to his gray color. “Look, humans,” he said to the gathered press. “Let me tell you what's really going on. I was born a few billion years ago on Planet Blorkfush. But I'm not a galactic warlord. I'm a professional wrestler! There's nothing I love more than getting into the ring, grappling with a strong being, and getting a 3-count pin on them!”

Xenu let out a content sigh, as if he were reliving past matches.

Xenu continued, “And no one puts up a better fight than a hero does. Problem is, though... most heroes don't fight just for the sake of fighting. So I came up with a scheme to trick the heroes into fighting. Yes, I did create the body thetans, but those Scientology nuts have it all wrong! They're not made from the souls of humans that were melted by lava! What do I look like: Lord Hater? ...don't answer that. Anyway, the body thetans are pretty much like the celestial equivalent of Care Bears. They don't soil your eternal spirit, but they might chase away a nightmare or two. Think of them as being created in a facility that's a mix between a quantum laboratory and Build-A-Bear.”

“Anyway...” Xenu explained, “I spread the 'body thetans,' on the hero's planet without telling anyone what they are. When the hero confronts me, I tell her, him, or it, that if they want me to remove them, they have to wrestle me! And then, it's time to tussle! Oh, yeah!

Xenu smiled on all three of his mouths, then continued his explanation: “I've had some great matches. Batman of Zur-En-Arrh, Lum Invader, Bomberman, Silver Surfer... oh, what memories. So I head to Earth, dreaming of a wrestling match that would make the heavens quake and the Gods cheer! So I rush to Earth, and what do I find?”

Xenu's thirty-three eyes narrowed as he answered his own question. “I'll tell you what I find! David Miscavige! I mean... look at him! I could pin him with ten tentacles tied behind my blood sacks! And his followers... ugh! They're just making stuff up! Rejecting psychiatry and attacking everything that looks at you funny isn't the way to remove body thetans! All it takes is vanilla ice cream!”
Xenu then fell to his tentacles and moaned, “Why, oh, why, could I not be pitted against Mr. T, or Chuck Norris, or some U.S. Navy Seals? Hell, I'd rather fight Oscar the Grouch!”

Xenu raised his tentacles to the sky and shouted, “Curse you, L Ron Hubbard!”

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

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