The History of Gin
or
A Fox's Tail
Is Life Existential? You Decide.
by ' Colorado ' Gumi
...I n s p i r e d By T r u e E v e n t s...
Chapter 5
Silence of the Care Bears
Ginger Mullins had several surreal experiences while attending Cornell Law School. One such interlude occurred during Second Year Spring Break...
Carefully observing the legal speed limit and keeping both hands on the wheel, Ginger drove down a narrow country lane through a dark and empty corner of upstate New York. Her seatbelt was securely fastened and she neither made nor answered cell phone calls while driving, because to have done otherwise was against the law. Not coincidentally an Alien spacecraft -- which, after several years of intricate planning and many decades of travel, had crossed trillions of miles at the speed of light (12 million miles per minute and that's the fastest speed there is) specifically to enable the vessel's crew to pluck her (as opposed to anyone else, say Carly Simon) from a dark-green BMW convertible (as opposed to any other type of vehicle, like a yellow Yugo) -- skimmed behind her totally trashing several local, State and Federal ordinances as it went...
...Securing her to a table by means she did not know and could not understand, the Aliens rudely shone bright, unflattering lights in her eyes from above and got their lame Super-Intelligent Alien jollies doing all kinds of weird stuff, including; stripping her naked, making small incisions in the skin, removing strange stuff from her body, inserting even stranger stuff, poking and prodding, extracting several eggs while giggling at a joke one of their number made in poor taste at her expense and scaring her out of her wits as she lay helpless, rather dazed, and wondering what was going on and why on earth any sentient being would travel so far to do it.
It was what they saw as the Inner-cranial Neural-synapse Flocculator sifted through her memories that so upset the Aliens they dropped everything, Gin included, and beelined back to their home world, carefully reweaving the fabric of space in their wake to keep any Earthling from ever knowing who they were, where they were from or where they went.
Now again in her car, which the terrified Aliens had washed, hot-waxed and meticulously detailed, Gin continued driving in strict adherence to the law, passing trees and occasional opossums, with no conscious memory of an interruption. She knew not that when the Super-Intelligent Aliens saw her ingrained ancestral memories of distant kinfolk brutally clobbering enemies with the jawbones of asses, they laughed as if watching a Three Stooges' short. With the Flocculator on fast-forward, they yawned through countless gruesome images, both inherent genetic memories and history Gin had absorbed, without a care in the world. Even on reviewing her impressions of World Wars I and II, the Aliens smirked amongst themselves at such puny manifestations of mayhem.
However... when they came to the tantrum eight-year-old Ginger threw at a Toys-R-Us when her father refused repeated demands for a Barbie doll she craved in a particular way, several Aliens nervously cleared their throats. The one who earlier had made her the butt of his crude joke paled visibly, excused himself, retired to his cabin and moved a heavy chest of drawers against the door. -- Coincidentally, her father had incorporated his own recollection of her behavior that day into one of the more manic and difficult levels of his popular video game, Doom. Then when the Aliens saw the stark predation and lust with which an older Gin shopped for expensive designer fashions, they squirmed in their seats and glanced sheepishly at each other. But it was after they fished out an obscure memory, hidden deep in her brain stem, that the Alien's went ape-shit with fear. No sentient being would trifle with a race possessing gods clothed in such mind-warping pastel colors, uttering such high-pitched abusive sounds, bearing such fearsome hallmarks... rainbows, flowers, puffy clouds... on their bodies and capable of Olympian acts such as making Timmy care that his ill-considered words hurt little Chrissy's feelings. Caution was warranted all the more with a species comprised of members as mercurially passionate as this specimen they'd collected. In despair each of the Super-Intelligent Aliens loudly damned the ancestors who conceived their cursed mission. Many wanted to make Gin their queen and expend the balance of their lives in service to her. But cooler heads prevailed and they all just plain got the hell out of Dodge.
Driving on, unaware that once more she had thwarted Humanity's annihilation, Ginger spied a cafe and stopped to eat; ordering liver, with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.
Carefully observing the legal speed limit and keeping both hands on the wheel, Ginger drove down a narrow country lane through a dark and empty corner of upstate New York. Her seatbelt was securely fastened and she neither made nor answered cell phone calls while driving, because to have done otherwise was against the law. Not coincidentally an Alien spacecraft -- which, after several years of intricate planning and many decades of travel, had crossed trillions of miles at the speed of light (12 million miles per minute and that's the fastest speed there is) specifically to enable the vessel's crew to pluck her (as opposed to anyone else, say Carly Simon) from a dark-green BMW convertible (as opposed to any other type of vehicle, like a yellow Yugo) -- skimmed behind her totally trashing several local, State and Federal ordinances as it went...
...Securing her to a table by means she did not know and could not understand, the Aliens rudely shone bright, unflattering lights in her eyes from above and got their lame Super-Intelligent Alien jollies doing all kinds of weird stuff, including; stripping her naked, making small incisions in the skin, removing strange stuff from her body, inserting even stranger stuff, poking and prodding, extracting several eggs while giggling at a joke one of their number made in poor taste at her expense and scaring her out of her wits as she lay helpless, rather dazed, and wondering what was going on and why on earth any sentient being would travel so far to do it.
It was what they saw as the Inner-cranial Neural-synapse Flocculator sifted through her memories that so upset the Aliens they dropped everything, Gin included, and beelined back to their home world, carefully reweaving the fabric of space in their wake to keep any Earthling from ever knowing who they were, where they were from or where they went.
Now again in her car, which the terrified Aliens had washed, hot-waxed and meticulously detailed, Gin continued driving in strict adherence to the law, passing trees and occasional opossums, with no conscious memory of an interruption. She knew not that when the Super-Intelligent Aliens saw her ingrained ancestral memories of distant kinfolk brutally clobbering enemies with the jawbones of asses, they laughed as if watching a Three Stooges' short. With the Flocculator on fast-forward, they yawned through countless gruesome images, both inherent genetic memories and history Gin had absorbed, without a care in the world. Even on reviewing her impressions of World Wars I and II, the Aliens smirked amongst themselves at such puny manifestations of mayhem.
However... when they came to the tantrum eight-year-old Ginger threw at a Toys-R-Us when her father refused repeated demands for a Barbie doll she craved in a particular way, several Aliens nervously cleared their throats. The one who earlier had made her the butt of his crude joke paled visibly, excused himself, retired to his cabin and moved a heavy chest of drawers against the door. -- Coincidentally, her father had incorporated his own recollection of her behavior that day into one of the more manic and difficult levels of his popular video game, Doom. Then when the Aliens saw the stark predation and lust with which an older Gin shopped for expensive designer fashions, they squirmed in their seats and glanced sheepishly at each other. But it was after they fished out an obscure memory, hidden deep in her brain stem, that the Alien's went ape-shit with fear. No sentient being would trifle with a race possessing gods clothed in such mind-warping pastel colors, uttering such high-pitched abusive sounds, bearing such fearsome hallmarks... rainbows, flowers, puffy clouds... on their bodies and capable of Olympian acts such as making Timmy care that his ill-considered words hurt little Chrissy's feelings. Caution was warranted all the more with a species comprised of members as mercurially passionate as this specimen they'd collected. In despair each of the Super-Intelligent Aliens loudly damned the ancestors who conceived their cursed mission. Many wanted to make Gin their queen and expend the balance of their lives in service to her. But cooler heads prevailed and they all just plain got the hell out of Dodge.
Driving on, unaware that once more she had thwarted Humanity's annihilation, Ginger spied a cafe and stopped to eat; ordering liver, with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.
To Be Continued
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