Behold! The power of Bacon!
Inside Shoe Carnival, everyone is busy stuffing their faces with Jib™ bars. The past few hours were intense and everyone is as hungry as they are tired. Lunchbox, using his training as a Cub Scout, tends to Kitty’s wound, as she uses her remaining hand to hold Lunchbox’s Jib™ so he can eat while he works.
Downstairs, Rose nurses Tad back to health while Geoff stands guard by his brother’s side. Apollo is just outside the broken window at Tad’s feet, watching the street for Inkaku.
The office is nearly silent as everyone tries to recuperate from their ordeal, until taping from the roof transitions everyone into alert mode.
“Oh shit,” Fritz said. “What now? Can’t we have any peace?”
Yukon and Eastwood rush to the roof access, while everyone else in the room grabs whatever they can to use as a weapon.
“Allow me,” Melvin said, as he weaves around everyone en route to the ladder.
Melvin sets his cherry soda down and ascends the ladder. He lifts the door to the roof and peaks out.
“What is it?” Fritz asked. “More aliens? Another one of those things? Pirates?”
Melvin thrusts the door the rest of the way open, and comes back down the ladder nonchalantly.
“Chill, Doc. It’s cool. We got company.”
All eyes are glued to the roof access and everyone remains nervous, until they see a snakeskin boot take the first step onto the upper rung of the ladder. Instantly, they all recognize the First Gentleman’s fancy footwear.
The President and his husband enter the office to jeers and questions abound. Evan tells them all about their experience on the ship and Fritz updates Evan and Mick on their adventure in their absence.
“Well now that we’ve taken out the Inkaku leader, what’s happening in the other cities?” The President asked.
“Most of their fleet has retreated,” Eastwood said. “It’s all over the radio. Vampires worldwide have been successfully attacking them head on, but about twenty minutes ago, there was a mass exodus.”
“That was right around the time we defeated t’Evar,” Mick said.
“That’s great news, but everything won’t be all kittens and dildos, until every one of those giant, bald bastards is halfway back to whatever shit hole planet they sprang from,” Evan said.
“What’s our next move?” Yukon asked.
“First I need to see Hank. Where is he? We need to formulate an aftermath strategy.”
“We haven’t seen or heard from him or Marietta, since they went for food,” Kitty said. “I mean, we know they made it back, because there’s Jib™ everywhere, but they must’ve gone back out to look for all of us when we weren’t here.”
“Let’s see,” Evan said as he reaches in his pocket for his Blackberry device. “I have a Friend Locator app.”
After a few simple button presses, and a reboot followed by a battery pull and a few more taps on the screen, Evan slaps the phone on the table beside him a couple of times and calls up the app. Half a dozen swipes and touches later, Evan’s device dings.
“Hmm… this says he’s in the building.”
Evan taps the ring phone feature and everyone turns to the utility closet outside the office when Welcome to the Jungle begins playing on Hank’s phone.
Just seconds into the tune, scrambling can be heard from inside the closet. Hello? spills from the cracks in the door and a delayed Hello? makes its way out of Evan’s speakerphone.
“Remember the first bit of advice you gave me when I told you I was running for president?”
“Come out of the closet?”
“Yeah, well I’m giving you the same advice now.”
Eggs and Marietta exited the tiny room, obviously dressed in a rush, with faces as red as a dog’s penis.
“Umm… hi. What did we miss?” Hank asked.
“All of it,” Kitty replied.
* * *
In the city of Detroit, everything was all kittens and dildos, as much as things could be kittens and dildos in Detroit. Langhorne and Anna were safe and sound there, but were planning on returning to D.C., as soon as the aliens were gone for good. Nobody wants to be born here, they thought. They wanted their soon-to-be son, Fletch Atherholt, to have a decent upbringing.
The Inkaku hated Detroit too. They actively avoided that territory during the invasion, because it reminded them too much of j’Ustinlong, the Inkaku’s version of hell.
One ship recently arrived per t’Evar’s request. A scout ship led by t’Evar’s newly appointed second in command, Fartron. t’Evar sent him on the reconnaissance mission fearing his nemesis, ex commanding officer Mardjii, may have transferred his consciousness into Fartron, upon discovering the second in command’s body; which was a possibility with their species.
Fartron, who was once a mere janitor, was now the Supreme Leader. He got the job, because no one else wanted it. The Inkaku had come to realize that being the Supreme Leader was like sitting on the iron throne in Game of Thrones.
Fartron took a bite of his Jib™ bar, as he pondered his next move, while sitting on an abandoned sedan in the center of the street beneath his ship. He and the rest of the Inkaku had grown to love the delicious snack bar and planned to fill the ship’s pantry with them and take them back to their home planet. While he was chewing, a cougar that escaped from the Detroit Zoo, that no one bothered to look for, because they didn’t give a shit, wandered by him and went into one of the abandoned houses.
What the fuck is wrong with this city?
All throughout the world, Inkaku ships that had been destroyed, were lying about. The humans would have a lot of cleaning up to do. The Inkaku had decided unanimously to retreat after sensing t’Evar’s death, all except Fartron and those who wanted to remain in Russia with Vladimir Putin.
Fartron didn’t want to leave without one last fuck you to the humans, specifically the President of the United States. By the time he had finished eating his Jib™ bar, he had formulated a plan. He felt around in his pocket, which had another Jib™ bar in it, but he decided to save that for later. He called over his Staff Sergeant, collecting Jib™ bars from the café across the street, whose full name was Pisstov7@), but everyone just called him Piss for short.
“Is that crazy doctor bastard still alive?”
“Yes, he’s in his lab right now; he’s working on a replica of the human Kim Kardashian’s ass,” Piss said.
“What’s he going to do with that? Fartron asked. “Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know. Listen, bring him down here I have a job for him.”
While Fartron waited for Piss to return, he thought about the specifics of his plan, it was fairly simple, but it all depended on that quack scientist. Balled up in his pocket was the magazine Intergalactic Muffs, which he thumbed through while he waited. He did so very carefully, because he remembered how the late commanding officer, Mardjii was killed. A deadly bug had jumped out at him, while he was reading a Space Boobs magazine. It felt… familiar.
That bug, whatever it was called, was part of his plan. He had the centerfold spread out and was wondering how the alien with three vaginas used the bathroom, when Piss and La’burypraiv came walking up to him. He rolled the magazine back up and put it in his pocket.
The doctor was carrying something huge in his hands, so big he could barely hold it. It was the size of a Smart car. Fartron wasn’t even sure how he made it down the ship’s escalator with that thing.
“What the hell is that?
“It’s the replica I made of Kim Kardashian’s ass.”
“Why are you carrying it around?”
“I don’t want anyone to steal it,” La’burypraiv said, clutching the ass close to his chest, as if Fartron might try to take it from him.
“Do we know the whereabouts of that bug? The one that killed me, I mean, Mardjii,” Fartron asked.
“The Utrivu was recaptured after several attempts. Twelve Inkaku died, before I remembered to tell them it was dangerous; I have it back in my lab safely locked away.”
“Yes. The Utrivu. I remember now. Can it be programmed to kill a specific person?”
“Well, normally the Utrivu roams and kills as it pleases, piercing the flesh and ejaculating its poisoned sperm into the wound from its forked tongue, causing a swift yet painful death, but I think I can have it target a specific person. Maybe shine a laser on him or something. Those things really hate red dots. They’ll chase them up a wall and everything. I’m talking hours of entertainment.”
“Good, hurry up and do you what you have to do. Once you have it ready, let me know and we will let it lose and leave this crappy planet forever.”
“Okay, I’ll try to hurry as quickly as I can,” La’burypraiv said and struggled to carry the ass back with him. He had only made it a few steps, when the cougar came out of the abandoned house and pounced on him. La’burypraiv toppled over, and the Kardishian ass replica fell to the ground. The cougar bit into it with its sharp teeth and scratched it with its sharp claws, until there was nothing left.
“Nooooooooooo,” La’burypraiv cried. “My ass!”
* * *
After all the functioning Inkaku ships were well out of Earth’s atmosphere, except for Fartron’s, the cameras began rolling on President Evan Bacon, standing tall behind a podium with the remains of the White House as a backdrop.
The crowd was massive as people traveled to witness the American President declare victory over the alien threat in person and be a part of the celebration that was sure to follow.
Along the front row stood the heroes who aided Evan in the victory. Yukon and Kitty, who were sporting a mannequin hand, duct taped to her arm. Apollo and Eastwood, still not totally switched off from attack mode, but slowly coming around.
First Gentleman, Mick Cage-Bacon and Blacula himself, Melvin Morgan, wrist deep into a jar of pickled eggs that didn’t stand a chance.
Tad, sandwiched between Rose and Geoff, who were helping him to stand. Lunchbox and Fritz, snickering at Marietta, who had the back of her skirt, tucked into the right leg hole of her bloomers unknowingly. Beside her, Evan’s Chief of Staff, Hank “Eggs” Benedict, trying hard not to look at Marietta’s eye patch, because it got him got and bothered.
The crowd grew silent, as Evan cleared his throat. The broadcast was worldwide and everyone, living and undead, was watching.
“My fellow Earthlings. We’ve shared an incredible week together; we’ve discovered we are not alone in the universe. Hopefully, in the future, we’ll meet some aliens who aren’t colossal dicks. Amirite?
You’ve not only had to swallow the existence of alien life, but you’ve been hit with vampires and zombies as well. What a week were having…
The crowd claps awkwardly.
“We’ve shared all this together and endured these trials as one. Let this week be a reminder, that we’re all in this together. Together, we can accomplish a great many things. We belong to this planet and she belongs to us. No one will ever take that away from us.
Color, race, gender, religion, sexual preference… these things define us, but let’s stop letting it divide us. Let’s use this moment to bond together as we were always meant to, as Earthlings, who are different, yet the same. Individual, but one.
Let me make this point clear, we came together, as we always do in hard times, and we rose above it. I feel a deep swell of pity on any life form out there, that comes to our planet looking for trouble.
If you’re out there in the cosmos watching this, and you think you’re going to muscle in on our planet, think again. I’m addressing you personally, newly appointed Supreme Leader of the Inkaku.”
On the Inkaku scout ship, tucked just behind the clouds above D.C., out of site, Supreme Leader Fartron leans in closer to the monitor.
“He knows of our presence! Quick, La’burypraiv! Release the Utrivu!”
“Let this be a reminder to your species, Supreme Leader. You mess with Earth, your day is gonna blow.”
With a huge smile on his face, President Bacon holds up a small box with a long antenna and a single red button.
“La’burypraiv!” Fartron yelled.
La’burypraiv had a round pad with a similar antenna and a tiny lever. He pulls back the switch and a small door on Evan’s podium swings open.
Hearing the trap door engage, Evan is drawn to it and notices an ugly, insect-like creature staring up at him. He quickly presses his button an ignites a tiny explosive, that Agent Atherholt snuck aboard Fartron’s ship back in Detroit.
Luckily, the tiny scout ship was laid out similar to the mother ship and the crates of thermal detonators were right where Evan thought they’d be.
The tiny explosive ignited the thermal detonators aboard the vessel and instantly Fartron, his crew, and their ship imploded. It burst out into a sea of sparks in the sky.
Unfortunately, the Utrivu, also burst out and found the President. His friends and husband rushed the stage. Melvin kicked the alien insect so hard it exploded, but it was too late. It’s acidic semen was already coursing through Evan’s veins.
As Evan lie there, dying, everyone in his field of vision was scrambling, trying to save him, but all the sound was muffled. He simply laid there, reserved to his fate, looking deeply into Mick’s eyes as they squeezed each others hands.
Mick knew it was the end, so did Evan, but they need not waste words. They had said everything to each other they needed to say. Evan was just glad that Mick and everyone else was safe. Evan had saved them all. President Bacon saved the world.
Evan’s eyes closed for the last time.
* * *
Evan shot strait up in his bed; his forehead was dripping with sweat.
“Are you okay, baby?” His wife asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a nightmare.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine, Kitty. Really. Go back to bed.”
“Was it the same as the others? The aliens and the mimes?”
“Yeah, but this time you lost a hand and I wasn’t married to Gary Busey this time. It was Nicolas Cage.”
“Haha. Weirdo. Lay back down with me.”
“You go back to sleep baby. I’m gonna go watch some TV. I’m too awake to fall back to sleep now.”
“Alright, but not too loud. I love you.”
Evan went downstairs and poured himself some tap water. He had three more hours before his shift at Starbucks started. He sat in his recliner and grabbed the remote.
The TV was already tuned to the Fox News channel. Evan took a second to register what he was watching. He sat up in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He thought he may still be dreaming. A quick pinch proved it; he was awake.
The newscaster was in horror, as the reporter on the street was attacked during the broadcast.
“Umm, folks, we seem to have lost Wendy. We, agh, we remind you to stay inside and lock all your windows and doors. Again, if you’re just joining us, the Seattle area is under attack by what we can only describe as werewolves…”
“Oh, you have got to be shitting me.”
Before Evan could alert his wife, he heard screaming around his front yard. The noise was enough to wake Kitty up, and she ran halfway down the steps to check on Evan.
“Evan? What was that?”
“Kitty… you’re not going to believe this, but-”
Evan and Kitty jumped, as a loud thud struck their door. Another thud followed and then another and finally a giant, hairy arm with razor sharp claws busted through.
Kitty ran to Evan. He picked up the poker by the fireplace and held it at the ready. The beast broke through and started toward them. Evan raised the poker high and swung with all his might.
A loud ring blared, like a sharp school bell through the sound stage.
“Cut!” The director yelled. “I think we got it! Great job everyone. That’s a wrap for today, go home and get some sleep. Remember, 5:30 am tomorrow morning for the lesbian love triangle scene by the pool, and make sure you return all the pieces of those werewolf costumes this time. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Aaron. Those things aren’t cheap.”
“Hey,” Kevin Bacon said, “what time you need me tomorrow, Stephen?”
“Not until two, babe, but listen, you may want to be here for the lesbian scene in the morning. I’m planning tons of takes for that one; it’s gonna be grand.”
“Alright, alright. You talked me into it. I’ll see you around five. Don’t eat all the damned crullers this time, alright? And if we do a sequel, I want my character, Evan, in on the next threesome!”
Kevin Bacon heads to the back of the set and grabs a bottle of water, before breezing out the door and into the lot. Halfway to his trailer, while texting his agent on his phone, he notices a odd shadow pattern pass over him.
He looks up to the sky in amazement…
The horizon is full of flying saucers floating in the sky. Suddenly beams of white hot light, zap out of the bottom of the disks in all directions. One of the mimes from Kevin’s new movie, Bacon Saves the World is evaporated before Kevin’s eyes.
Kevin drops his water bottle and reaches for his chest. He digs his fingers between the buttons and rips his shirt off, revealing a giant letter “B” inside a diamond crest on the chest area of his spandex suit. From his pocket, he retrieves his purple eye mask and bends his legs slightly, as he lowers to the ground.
Pushing off, Kevin Bacon soars into the sky with lightning speed towards the Armada. A loud sonic boom shatters the nearby windows. He can be heard yelling, as he flies over scared onlookers, now filled with hope…
“Behold! The power of Bacon!”