On Men in Black

On Men in Black

I've never seen a UFO.

I've never seen lights in the sky, Yetis, the Devil Incarnate, spontaneous human combustion, mythological creatures or Elvis driving a taxi round the back streets of Weymouth.

I once nearly saw a ghost, but I might have been making that up.

Good God, I've faked up UFO sightings, and even made genuine cash money for it, and good grief, I really, really wanted at some sad, deluded stage in my life for aliens and stuff to be real.

But they're not.

And I can tell you why,

A knock at the door.

Two men in black, black suits.

"What you saw that night was the planet Venus. The planet Venus."

"The planet Venus, with a helicopter flying in front of it."

"Yes. A helicopter, which lowered a noted surgeon on a winch so he could stick a probe up your bottom."

"A probe which was NOT alien technology, at all. He just likes bottoms."

"Don't push it, Agent Smith."

"Sorry, Agent Jones."

"Wait… hang on…" I say.

"Planet Venus," said Agent Smith, trying to keep up the pretence.

"Bottoms," says Jones.

"No… really. I think you want Mr Mulder. Three doors down."

"Shit. Sorry. This isn't number 92, then?"

"No. No it isn't."

"Bollocks. You didn't see us, right?"

So mote it be.


Edit: I've just invented a new gay inter-racial porn movie: Black in Men. Sorry.