I remember the good old days. When the buffalo would roam and we would play here with our antelope friends. Then these alien transport devises with two bright lights started coming around. They scared us off at first but eventually we came back. It was like the aliens were drawing us in with their fancy, tasty plants. I warned the herd, “don’t be fooled by those beautiful offerings.” They all snorted and said things like “don’t be a scaredy deer” and “you can’t look a gift alien in the mouth.”
So I kind of gave in and followed the herd. We were living the high life. Waking up to the birds singing in Fort point, dining on delicious tulips in Wilder, and then heading up to Westridge for an all-you-can-eat salad bar with hardly a fence to be seen. And cougars, ha, there were none. Sometimes for fun, the young bucks would chase dogs and the odd human. What a sight to see. We would laugh for hours under the moon light.
Those were the days, weren’t they? All was going quite well then BAM! The next thing I knew Uncle Buck was behind bars. The herd panicked. Many others just disappeared. I knew something like this would happen but the herd wouldn’t listen. Please Deer Abby, get the word out. Tell all who roam and play here to be afraid, vewy, vewy afraid. The aliens are coming, the aliens are coming.