Alienable Rights
political satire
2
Fake News
“DC Air flight 1427 from New York to Kansas City disappeared from radar and radio contact at exactly noon Eastern Standard Time. The last known location of the flight was just south of Wheeling, West Virginia,” said the news broadcast. “Search planes have been dispatched and are crisscrossing the area looking for any sign of the downed aircraft. As a precaution, Air Force fighter jets are circling the area, alert for any sign of illegal activity. If you have any information as to the whereabouts of the missing aircraft, please call the number at the bottom of your screen immediately.”
“WELL, SHIT, baby boy. That’s your daddy’s flight. Don’t think badly of me. I’m going to drop you off at Granny and PopPop’s for a while until we get this sorted out. I might have to drive to West Virginia to identify his body,” Stacy said.
And if it was the worst, she might not come back.
The Security Council was waiting for the president when he came off the eighteenth green at his private golf course Wednesday morning. Secret Service agents surrounded him and the Middle Eastern prince he was golfing with. The president bid his guest farewell and the prince’s guards met him as they went to his motorcade.
Bob Sinclair was the only member of the Security Council the president trusted, so the others were cut off from him by the Secret Service.
“It’s time for dinner, Bob. Whatever it is, it can wait until we get inside and have food in front of us.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” Bob answered nervously, glancing at the sky. It would be better to get inside as quickly as possible. It was obvious the president wasn’t in a good mood and a glance at one of the agents got a mouthed, “He lost.” That explained things.
Once they were inside and seated at the president’s long dining table, Bob was given clearance to talk. None of the president’s family nor other advisors were present for the meal. The president’s gold plate was twice the size of Bob’s plastic one and had twice the amount of food. He started eating quickly as Bob began his story.
“Sir, it’s about the plane that went missing at noon yesterday.”
“Find the wreckage?”
“No, sir. There is no sign it disassembled. We believe it was captured by aliens.”
“Shoot it down!”
“We don’t know where they took it.”
“Get Homeland Security and Border Control on it. Deploy ICE. They’re supposed to keep illegal aliens out of our country. Don’t even say anything to the public. Divert the plane straight to El Salvador. Better yet, send them to Uganda.”
“Sir, we don’t think it was aliens from Mexico, Canada, or China. We’re talking about space aliens.”
The president spat a mouthful of food across the table as he choked out a laugh.
“Good one, Bob. That’s why I like to keep you around. You’re always entertaining.”
“I’m serious, sir,” Bob said. “A witness saw the plane overhead and said it suddenly just vanished. He was sure he could see a shadow of it as it ascended into heaven.”
“Which is it? God or aliens?” the president pounced.
“It’s the only thing that was taken today, so we have to believe God wasn’t involved. You and I wouldn’t be here if it was the rapture.”
“Right. But aliens don’t exist. It’s either Antifa or Black Lives Matter.”
“Those were five years ago, sir.”
“You can’t trust the liberals!”
“Of course not, sir. We think the threat is real.”
“Are you trying to irritate me, Bob? Get out of my dining room!”
Bob left and went to report the meeting, such as it was, to the rest of the council.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. There is no such thing as space aliens,” the president posted on his social media account.
“Space aliens are a product of artificial intelligence controlled by the liberal media,” he doubled down.
“Anything you hear about space aliens is fake news. We believe CNN is at the heart of this misinformation.”
Of course, his posts were the first anyone had heard of a threat from space aliens, including CNN.
“Has the president lost it?” asked a media post, quoting the president’s messages.
By morning, though, when the country was waking up to their cell phones and looking at them through bleary eyes, the president’s posts had all been removed. The rabid discussion on the internet and in the morning news, however, was in full bloom.
“Pentagon refuses to deny invasion by space aliens!” screamed one headline.
“Air Force reportedly on alert for invasion from space.”
“No evidence,” stated a banner across responses and reposts that included screenshots of the president’s tweets. The social media AIs worked overtime to hide the posts. Everything that talked about aliens, however, could not be removed.
UFO Today, a publication that mimicked a national newspaper, had the most extensive article on the subject, including quotes from prominent scientists.
We should not be surprised at the sudden furor raised about comments that seemed to indicate the president was aware of alien activity in our airspace. We at UFO Today have known about this activity for several years. The reluctance of the government to confirm the story, originally credited to the president in posts that have since been removed, is the same that we have encountered over the years when we attempted an investigation.
Word that another aircraft has disappeared, this time from directly over US airspace rather than the fabled Bermuda Triangle, has sparked more rumors of alien contact. Whether these rumors are true or not, we can’t say. But the disappearance of DC Air flight 1427 has all the same hallmarks as other historic flights that have vanished without a trace.
As early as 1932, a US troop transport plane flying from Guam to the Philippines disappeared with 90 troops on board. There was no signal from the plane and no wreckage was ever found. The crew of a Liberian tanker plying the waters on that route reported seeing an intensely luminous light in the sky. Did the plane blow up, or was it snatched by a powerful beam?
In 1974, an unscheduled Argentine troop transport with three crew and 21 passengers disappeared. Just vanished. No trace of the aircraft or the people on it was ever found.
Is it always people? No. The missing aircraft and ships seem to have all kinds of cultural artifacts aboard. For example, a cargo flight from Tokyo to Rio with only six people aboard disappeared without a trace. The plane vanished with 153 rare paintings valued at over $1.2 million!
What made the Bermuda Triangle famous? The triangle extends from southern Florida, to Bermuda, to Puerto Rico. Within that region, ships with goods and passengers had long been known to disappear. On December 5, 1945, Flight 19, a group of five Navy fighters two hours into a training mission out of Fort Lauderdale reported a compass malfunctioning and the leader was not sure where they were. All five aircraft and the fourteen men on them were never seen nor heard from again.
A flight over Pakistan carrying 54 passengers disappeared in 1989.
The largest search effort for a missing aircraft in history took place in 2014 when Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 disappeared without a trace on its flight from Kuala Lumpur to Beijing. It vanished from clear skies early in the morning on March second. No flashes or crew distress signals. The plane, its 239 crew and passengers, and radio signals just vanished.
So, now we add DC Air Flight 1427 from New York to Kansas City with 369 passengers and crew. Possibly the largest single abduction in history, the flight vanished over West Virginia yesterday. Is it any wonder that people—maybe even the president—speculated alien interference?
An eye witness claimed the plane was overhead one moment and the next, it was gone. The plane vanished so quickly, said the witness, that for a minute it left its shadow still flying up toward the heavens.
Perhaps the aliens responsible for this abduction are angels. And maybe this time, we’ll find out!
Somewhere south of Wheeling, West Virginia, Harlan Graves was trying to follow the directions of the only witness to the disappearance of DC Air Flight 1427. The FAA investigator looked at the scribbled map on a diner placemat and scratched his head.
“Why couldn’t he have given me GPS coordinates?” Harlan mumbled. “There. That must be where Jim Bob’s cattle broke through the hedge back in 1999. Could he have been more cryptic? It’s the only thing I could call a hedge I’ve seen in five miles. Now, there should be a two-track lane off to the right. What the fuck was that guy doing out here anyway?”
Harlan crept forward, finally seeing what might pass for a two-track lane. It was more like two footpaths running parallel to each other, but he thought he could keep the tires of his Bronco in the worn spots. He turned in and made his way down the lane with hawthorn branches and blackberry bushes scratching along the sides. The witness had been out here right at noon, stretched out in the bed of his truck having a smoke and a little drink before he went home from work. Harlan couldn’t imagine navigating this path in the dark. The witness said he’d made the stop on his way home from the night shift at a chicken rendering plant.
All Harlan needed to find was one little scrap of anything that might look like it came off an airplane. Evidence of a crash. Then he could call in the NTSB and get them to take over the investigation. He’d tried that once already.
“You lost an airplane off of radar, but there’s no sign of a crash. You had helicopters circling the area out ten miles from the supposed site and still no evidence of a crash,” Millie MacDonald at NTSB had told him. “We investigate crashes, Harlan. Show me a goddam crash site and we’ll get right at investigating.”
The FAA had been all over the relevant data. The plane was on the radar and in radio contact until exactly noon. Then nothing. No sign of any equipment failures at any of the tracking stations. It was just there and then it wasn’t. And only this yahoo from the sticks of West-By-God Virginia had professed to have seen anything.
The underbrush became less dense and the trees began to part. Harlan had hopes that he could turn around somewhere soon and wouldn’t have to back down the lane in order to leave—and that none of the spiky thorns had embedded itself in a tire. Then he came out of the woods into a clearing. A little shack sat in the middle and the track went around it and back out the way he’d come.
As he came back to what he decided to call the front of the shack, he was confronted by a woman with a shotgun leveled at him. He stopped the Bronco and got out, holding his hands high, thankful that he’d heard no dogs barking.
“I come in peace!” he called, wondering if he sounded like a pioneer talking to natives, just before he started shooting them down.
“Ye-ah. Evbdy wanna piece. You brin money?”
Harlan paused and considered.
“How much money?”
“Fify dolla.”
“Yeah. I can do that.”
Thinking he’d just stumbled on a private place and was being shaken down, he made the quick decision to just pony up and get out. Or maybe he was buying a pint of the local hooch. As he fished money out of his pocket, he decided to investigate as well.
“I’m looking into an airplane crash,” he said. “Yesterday at noon. You see or hear anything?” he asked handing over the money. “Can I get a receipt for that?”
“Yo ain’ fum he’bout. Jes come inside and take yo close off.”
“I… what?” She kept the shotgun pointed at him and herded him into the little shack. Thankfully, it was pretty clean. Sparsely furnished, with a mattress on the floor that was neatly made up into a bed.
“Tak m’off,” she demanded.
So, he wasn’t going to get any information out of this trip one way or another. And apparently no moonshine either.
“I’ll just go.”
She raised the shotgun to her shoulder.
“Stee-rip!” she commanded.
Harlan was not a policeman nor a Marine. He wasn’t trained in self-defense or martial arts. He’d held a desk job all his adult life and doubted he could even walk back to the highway without having a heart attack. He began removing his clothes and slowly laying them on a chair near the bed.
“Lay down,” she said.
He did as he was told. Then she set the shotgun aside and with a quick flick of a couple of buttons, let her dress fall to the floor before she jumped on him. He was surprised at the beauty of the woman in front of him. She had big full breasts with rosy nipples. The bandana was thrown from her head, loosing a cascade of red hair. It matched the hair around her cunt, as far as he could tell. He hadn’t been close to a naked woman in a while and his body began to instantly react.
“Thata way I like it,” she said as she quickly stuffed him into her pussy before he was completely hard. He kept growing. “Ye-ah. Like home. Make it grow! Make it grow!”
Harlan would not have thought he would respond to the demands of the backwoods woman, but his body had other ideas. It felt like her pussy was sucking on him and stroking him better than any blowjob he’d ever had. His cock increased in all dimensions as he began to thrust up into her. He filled his hands with her big tits and let go of all his inhibitions. If she was offering sex for the fifty dollars he’d paid her, he would simply take it as a good transaction.
“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he moaned as her insides caressed his wood with a sensuousness he was not expecting.
He’d heard of artificial pussies he could buy that were purported to milk the cream from his cock, but had never actually bought one. He’d followed enough links, though—just to investigate—that his social media feeds were filled with advertisements for them.
“Yo like dis eben mo,” she said. She reached behind her and slid her hand under his balls. Then he could feel her finger edging its way between his ass cheeks to his anus.
“What? You’re… Sweet Jesus! No one ever stuck her finger up there before!”
Her finger slid smoothly into his ass and began pumping in and out. It curled forward a bit and began scratching at his rectum right where he was tightening up to fire semen. She hit his prostate and Harlan came so hard he passed out.
When he woke up, she was dressed and sitting in the chair with the shotgun across her lap. His clothes were on the bed next to him. He started to dress.
“Ya go now,” she said.
“You… uh…Yesterday at noon… Did you see an airplane disappear from the sky?”
He was barely dressed and she was shoving him outside without letting him tie his shoes. She raised her shotgun and Harlan instinctively ducked, but she kept swinging it until it pointed almost straight up. She pulled the trigger and the shot echoed all around them.
“Right dere. Cem ’cross fum o’er dere. Right dere, it wen bye-bye.”
“Just disappeared or you shot it?”
“Alens took it.”
“Alens? Aliens?” he asked.
“Dey all roun he-ah. Neva know wen yo talka one.”
She turned and went back into her shack. Harlan thought of following her, but thought of the shotgun and decided to leave. There was no crash debris.
By the time he got off the two-track lane, his Bronco was scratched up on both sides and he was totally bewildered. He considered returning to see the backwoods whore. He’d never had sex like that. Yes, it was quick, but so powerful it had knocked him out. He knew he had a couple hundred more dollars in his pocket and at fifty dollars a lay he could probably die happy.
He pulled to the side of the road and looked at the map the witness had given him. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He wasn’t even sure he had it right side up. He’d never find that shack again!
He drove back to Washington reliving that fuck over and over in his mind. By the time he reached his apartment, he was sure of his course of action.
He called Millie.
“Don’t think any of this means I’m going to take over your investigation, Harlan,” Millie said as she led him into her apartment. Harlan was a little intimidated because it was much nicer than his. They’d been out to dinner and when Harlan suggested he’d like to come up to her place, she’d shrugged and nodded. That had never happened on their dates before.
“Who cares about any fucking investigation,” Harlan growled. “I want you, Millie.”
He’d been more than half hard all evening and Millie was feeling a new sense of command from Harlan.
“Oh, Harlan! You’ve never been so manly before. I’m right here, baby. You want me; you got me.”
“Oh, Millie. I’m too old to be going out hunting for pussy on weekends. I want a woman I can have any time I want her. I want you, Millie. You!”
“Let me get that latch, Harlan.”
She deftly unhooked her bra and shrugged out of it. Harlan fell to her breasts like a starved man. Millie was a fine-looking woman. He’d never seen her like this before. On their previous dates, she kept her normal business suit on and he’d never been in her apartment before. She moaned as he sucked and flicked her nipples with his tongue. He found the zipper on her skirt.
“I thought you had me in the friend-zone all this time. Oh, Harlan, I love how dominant you’re being. Just put me anywhere in any position you want. I haven’t had anything like this in way too long,” Millie panted.
He pushed her back on the bed and stripped out of his clothes, forgetting about his socks. Then he pulled at her pantyhose until they rolled down her butt and her legs. He grabbed her panties and pulled them down before diving face-first into her pussy.
“Oh, baby! Yes! Lick me up! I love your tongue. And your fingers! You’re better than Julie! I’m ready, baby. I’m ready for you.”
Harlan hadn’t had much experience in orally satisfying a woman, so he assumed telling him she was ready meant he’d succeeded in whatever he was supposed to be doing between her legs and he rushed to her opening with his cock, thrusting it in. Who the hell was Julie? Should I be worried or excited? It was a single smooth motion and he felt the delicious sensation of a woman’s pussy enveloping his dick for the second time that day. No, Millie wasn’t quite milking him like the backwoods ho had, but it was a real live woman who was welcoming him into her body. After a few thrusts at each other, she gave him a push and rolled over on top of him. Millie was more active and athletic than her normal business attire revealed. Bouncing on him with her boobs bobbing up and down was an inspiration to Harlan and he got even more active.
Millie sank down on him to his full length and then began to turn around without losing his erection in her pussy. Facing his feet, she continued to bounce up and down on his cock as he watched and held her beautiful ass in his hands. Then Millie leaned forward a little and began pushing her hand under his balls and toward his anus.
Until earlier that day, Harlan had never known there was pleasure to be had by having a woman push a finger into his butt. Millie’s felt more slender than the backwoods woman, but it was still stimulating.
Then Harlan had a sudden inspiration. If it felt good to him, it probably would feel good to her, too. He licked a digit and insinuated it between Millie’s cheeks. As soon as he touched her anus, it was like Millie shifted into high gear and began pounding down on his cock while thrusting her ass back against his finger slowly sinking into her butt. She kept up the stimulation on his backside as well and in a few minutes, they both climbed so high up their climax scale that they shorted out and collapsed.
As they slowly regained consciousness, Harlan saw Millie’s ass in front of him. It was a sight he determined he was going to see often. Who needed a backwoods whore?
