Alien Attack

The night began strangely enough. We all should've known better and called it a night, maybe watched one of Jason's 4,000,962 movies, but we had ants in our pants and, you guessed it, they were making us want to dance. We had itches that only a little dancin' could scratch.

Heck, Cassie even ironed a shirt for Jason just so we could all go out. Those cursed ants wielding their power over her. How dare they make her iron! (Side note: Nothing in this whole world could make me iron. I have principles.)

So we made a mad dash for my car, thinking we were going to kick up our heels, so to speak, when we were suddenly transported into an alternate universe with a huge force field surrounding it. Sensing our fear, the universe aliens tried to destroy our life force. It was fierce.

First, they programmed Cassie with the knowledge and power to use this brain-sucker-outer on me, an attempt to render me a useless and slobbering driver who would kill us all in a car accident.

Fortunately, Cassie's face started peeling off, so she only got part of my brain out. She rifled though the first aid kit she found on the planet and struggled to figure out how to keep her evil face on. Ha, ha, Cassie. That's what you get for being so programmable and secretly evil. Cassie is missing part of her face now.

Seated quietly in the back seat, poor Jason kind of slipped through the cracks and became infused with a tennis racket.

But I don't feel sorry for him because really, he taunted us for using "science fiction humor." "Science fiction girls," I think is what he labeled us. Now who has the last laugh? Don't mess with angry science fiction women. We will telekinetically scramble your face.