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Message to Readers

This was totally random and spur of the moment - totally goes to show about the weird things I think about while I'm bored. Read at your own ~risk~.

You Vs. Me

January 2, 2018


January 17th, 2905
Day 1 of The End Of The World
If history books last beyond 2910, I’m giving them legal rights to this shitty notebook that I got from Dollar Tree for two bucks. I know it’s “illegal” to record your thoughts when you work for the government, but I think documenting an attack on humanity itself would qualify for an exemption. Hopefully this won’t become an object of controversy after the planet goes ka-boom.
Yesterday was a hell of a day. I bought a cup of coffee. I mulled over the news while chewing on a cruddy excuse for a bagel. I walked to work. I watched NASA drown in utter chaos over a little message from what are presumably aliens (with a dead astronaut for good measure). Not everyone gets to experience that.
NASA has a pretty large computer sector; there’s essentially ten or twenty rooms on campus dedicated to the things. Sure, we all may be nerds, but our job entails kind of mundane tasks (for us at least). We’re not the “No-more Aliens Super Agency” - we’re a bunch of geeks with glasses that decided we would rather work on cool-sometimes-classified-stuff for a living rather than code apps for some stupid teenager’s enjoyment (Sorry! It’s true!). And the job pays well; just not enough to suck us into a bloody outer-space murder festival. So we were all largely unprepared for the ghastly sight of Cynthia Fox, who we had met just months earlier, lying in what would be a space-vampire’s feast. And the note that accompanied it: [01011001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101110 01100101 01111000 01110100].
In computer-nerd terms, that would roughly translate to you’re next. Kind of like a distant relative visiting. But one with an unstable desire for bloodlust. Very exciting stuff. Not that the majority of civilians knew yet - the government would hopefully withhold the information for a “good time” (yes, that was directly quoted from the primitive form of communication that the government uses - ugh, “email”(fight me), we got from the No-Mercy #whitehousespokes). But at the very least, Republicans could be satisfied by their abnormal investments in the military. If only there was such thing as intergalactic warfare training. (I say military because the aliens don’t seem in the mood for diplomatic negotiations. I’m sure the government wouldn’t bother trying though.)
Unfortunately, since I am not only a computer nerd but also the manager of extraterrestrial communications (est. 2805, a job created on a whim that no one ever thought would come in handy), the duty of responding was thrust upon me. I never thought the day would come.
Since then, I have worked on various notes. They’re kind of like love letters: you write something down, crumple it up because it clearly doesn’t reflect the proper idea, and toss it in the trash. See below.
Hello. This is the humans speaking. We come in peace. Please don’t kill us (That was trial #55. #1-54 were similarly bad).
I very obviously wasn’t the right person to be coerced into this position. At least it’ll make a good story for my non-NASA friends - if we survive, that is. Humanity’s been through a lot of shit: crazy wars, deadly plagues, and some hella crazy governments, but there hasn’t been any evidence of the world surviving despite receiving threats from a hostile alien race.
Don't judge lol - I wrote this while waiting for a delayed (winter weather) flight, and I conveniently happened to be half dead haha. 


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  • January 2, 2018 - 6:30pm (Now Viewing)

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