"Son, sit with your old dad for a minute."

 

"Oh, no, please dad, not the talk, please?" 

 

"Son, I know you think you know it all already, but I'm sure there are some things you don't know yet. You're 13 today, how much can you know?"

 

"Dad, this isn't Walton Mountain and I'm not John-Boy, ha! I know a lot more than you did at this age."

 

"Oh, you do, do you? Well, let's see what you know. You probably already know about sex, hell, it's everywhere, you can't get away from it. It sad that kids no longer have to steal their father's Playboy to see a naked woman." 

 

"Playboys, ha-ha! Dad, we can turn on cable and see more than they show in Playboy. Please dad, I know everything I need to know."

 

No, son, you don't. You see, today is not just your 13th birthday, it is also time to fight for freedom. It is time we told you who you really are. This talk has nothing to do with sex, son. It has to do with who, and what, you really are. You and your sister, who knows already, and your mother."

 

"Dad, what in the world are you talking about. You're not smoking any of that " wacky weed" you and mom smoked when you were hippies are you? 

 

No son, it's nothing like that, it's far more serious. Son, we are not from this world."

 

"What? Dad, I've seen my birth certificate, I was born right here in Riverside."

 

"No son, that is just a fake document, along with the many others we had made, to fit in here. We all have them. Your mother, your sister and all my documents, are all fake." 

 

"Where the hell are we from. I'm white, I know I'm not an illegal allien from Mexico. What, are we refugee's from Russia or something."

Son, sit down, please. This is the toughest thing I've every tried tell anyone, even your sister, and the women from our world can handle stress a lot better than most men."

 

Our world? What the hell are you talking about dad? This is our world. Here, in Riverside. The good ole' USA, dad. You must be getting senile."

 

Listen to me son, you're a man now, at least on our world. You would be old enough to enter the military today if you were home. You will be behind the others as it is. We've grown soft on this planet. In these shells of soft puddy . It is time for you to think. What is the first memory you have as a child?"

 

"What"? I don't know dad, ah, I starting 2nd grade at Riverside Elementary, I think. I remember mom took me to class and I started crying when she left. Yeah, but, nothing before that. Where did I go to 1st grade at?

 

We weren't in this form yet, son. We were still growing into our bodies on our planet. Son, this is hard to tell you, but, on our planet, we are the same age. We were all programed to be who they wanted us to be. We were placed here, to be the ground force. To stay ready, blend in, and wait for the Call. Son, the Call has arrived!

 

"The Call!! What are you talking about. I have friends here. I'm on the baseball team, I have a game tonight. I'm pitching, you know that.What, Call? I can't leave. Are you crazy? Dad, please, tell me, please, you're kidding around, please dad, please.

 

"Quit sniveling, NOW! You are not one of these "things" you hang around with. We are superior to these weaklings, who make me sick. The time is now! We have millions of people in place, all over this world, all waiting until the Final Call, tonight. When the ships arrive, we have others much like us, who are going to do everything from cutting off the electricity in cities, to cutting off all communication. Their satellites are already in the process of being blown out of space. They will be helpless without their little cellphones. Tonight, we take over this world, tomorrow we celebrate and we can finally go home, and leave this filthy, greedy planet. We can finally be around around civilized beings."

 

"But, dad, what about my baseball game tonight. I'm pitching?"