Wednesday’s Invasion

“2011 lawn mower. Good repair. 22-inch cutting area. Can’t get the blood stains out. There’s blood everywhere.” Marc glanced up from the classified section, raising his eyebrows. “You know I’ve tried haunted hardware before. It never goes well for me.”

Geoffrey shrugged. “Sure, but I saw the price. And your lawn looks like it needs help. Even possessed help.”

“Thanks for that.” Marc harrumphed and looked back down at the ad. “Oh! You’re right. That isn’t a bad price. And really, how bad could it be?”

Geoffrey smiled and jabbed at his neighbor with an index finger. “There you go! I knew you’d bite!”

“Just don’t tell the wife, all right? She’s still miffed after the whole demonic blender snafu from Christmas.”

Geoffrey crossed his heart. “Anyway, you going to call up the seller before or after the invasion?”

“Oh, another one?” Marc wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. You really think it’s a big deal?”

“Just got back from the store when I saw you puttering in the back here. All the milk’s gone, like normal. I’ve never understood that. Why milk? I always grab crackers and cereal. Those don’t go bad when you lose power, you know.”

Marc turned back toward his house. “Martha’s going to kill me. Last time we didn’t stock up before an invasion, she just prattled on and on.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t see what the big deal is. There’s an invasion about every-other week these days. Aliens try landing, it looks like we’re all going to die, someone rescues us at the last minute. Over and over again. Why stock up? If it’s as bad as everyone says, we’ll probably die before we use up the food anyway.”

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. “I forgot toilet paper. Hm. Say, if you’re not worried anyway, care to spot us a few rolls?”

The shorter man folded up the paper. “You can use this after I call that seller. So, who’s invading this week? Alligator men? Robots from Planet X? Someone from our distant future?”

Geoffrey scratched at his mustache. “They didn’t say. Something about how we need to stand strong against this newest threat and not give up our vigilance. The normal speech. I think they might just use boilerplate for it now.”

“Hm.” Marc headed back toward his house. “Let me get on the phone and call the seller here. If worse comes to worst, I can use the bloody lawn mower to scare off the whats-its from the heavens.”

As he stepped onto the concrete of his back patio, an explosion bloomed in the sky. He looked up, observing the orange flames far in the distance. “Look at that. Took care of it already. You still want that TP?” he called across the lawn.

“Nah, keep it,” Geoffrey answered. “Just let me know when you use that lawn mower the first time; I’ll keep my dog inside just in case!”

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