They Can’t Silence All of Us (Short Story)

It’s been a while since I uploaded a story, and I’ve had this one sitting around for a while so I figured I could upload and share it. That being said, I first want to emphasize that this is in fact a silly, made-up story. Are there references to real people and real events? Yes. Is it for entirely comedic and entertainment purposes? Also yes. This is not meant as a slight or attack on anyone mentioned in the story; it’s just meant to be funny. My goal was to cram as many memes and references into this one as possible, and I think that I succeeded. That being said, this story also contains a fair bit more profanity than my usual articles and story, so keep that in mind. Enjoy.

My name is Matty Roberts. Some of you know what means. If you’re reading this, it means they got me and my contingency plan uploaded this confession, or maybe chronicle is a better word, straight to every inbox, social media platform, and blog I could conceive of. I don’t know where you may be reading this from, but the fact that you are is proof enough of the validity of this document.

            So, I should probably start with some background. As you may be aware, it all started as a meme. Or at least that’s what I wanted them to think. You see, I’m a BIG fan of Bob Lazar. The man knows his stuff. I mean of course he would. He was on The Joe Rogan Experience for crying out loud! Anyway, getting back on track, I posted the legendary “Storm Area 51, They Can’t Stop All of Us” event on Facebook on June 27, 2019. It wasn’t my idea, even if I believed in its validity the whole time. No, that honor belongs to my buddy Sam Cooper.

            Sam is… well he’s probably the craziest guy you’ll ever meet. Imagine your typical California surfer bro with the flowing blonde hair and wardrobe consisting entirely of tank tops, but he’s also an amateur rocket scientist and theoretical physicist. That’s Sam for ya. You take a look at him and never expect him to be the smartest in the room. I mean, even the day of the raid he looked like the kind of smooth-brained redditor with a room-temperature IQ who would’ve shown up to the event. And that’s why he’s a friggin genius.

            I’ve known Sam ever since we were kids. He was always that kid OBSESSED with the paranormal and supernatural. He also had a baby sister named Charlotte. Back when Sam was 8 and Charlotte was 2 (I know it’s a bit of an age gap, but it happens), she disappeared into thin air. Mom swore she tucked little Char into bed at half past 8, then retired to her room for some quiet nighttime reading. Dad and Sam were in the basement watching Independence Day. Mom heard the cooing and baby gurgles over the baby monitor. Eventually the cooing turned into light breathing as Charlotte fell asleep for the night. Then mom heard a weird noise. She said it sounded like someone was playing a distorted electric keytar (she’s a big fan of Dave Stewart and Eurythmics so she would know) in the baby room. She ran over and saw a blinding rainbow light. It really was blinding since it took her three days to regain her sight. The family was devastated and nearly torn apart. They all started drinking (yes even little 8-year-old Sam) to drown the pain. One night after a particularly heavy bout of drinking, Sam, who by now was about to turn 10, fell into a drunken stupor and had a dream. In the dream, he saw Charlotte, who was now 4 years old, sitting in a red room. Next to her sat a dancing midget whose head looked like a foot. The head wasn’t a foot, but it looked kind of foot shaped, if that makes sense. The midget was very hairy, and he had massive feet. He was also completely nude except for a single black box that hovered in front of his groin. Sam was sitting in a chair and he couldn’t move no matter how hard he tried. The midget just danced. When Charlotte saw him, she ran over and wrapped her arms around him. She began blubbering saying that she was sorry for causing them so much trouble and sadness. Sam tried to comfort her but he still couldn’t move. The midget kept dancing. Charlotte then said that the good Reptoids from the Hollow Earth kingdom of Lemuria had broken through the Prison Reality Wall to enter the Surface Lands where they tracked her down so they could kidnap her because she is their Child of Prophecy mentioned in the Great Stories of Ashislwo’sjfs’wjcm’awe, their Ancient Seer, and they had to do this because if they waited even one day, the evil Reptoids from Atlantis who had infiltrated our government and society were planning to assassinate her and all of us with a car bomb. The midget stopped dancing. He looked at Sam and smiled. Then Charlotte turned into a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird. The midget laughed manically as Sam awoke in a cold sweat. He immediately ran to the bathroom and vomited.

            Fast forward a few years. Sam and I were just wrapping up our sophomore years at the University of Alabama. We were living our best lives gaming the night away in our apartment or checking out supposedly haunted local hotspots. At least we were until Sam had another weird dream on June 15, 2019. He told me that he found himself in the red room again, but the midget was gone. His sister stood in front of him, only now she looked like a woman. She told him that she had wed the Lemurian Reptoid Emperor and now ruled as their Empress. She was pregnant with a being that would either save their species or enslave it, and the Atlantean Reptoids wanted to steal this new savior away. She said that she had personally slaughtered billions in the conflict, but even more would need to die before it was over. She claimed that a second half of Ashislwo’sjfs’wjcm’awe’s prophecy had been discovered, and it mentioned a male warrior related to their Goddess-Queen who would lead their armies until the Shwutsiw-Ksnkwjloi was born. She tasked Sam with breaking into the Hollow Earth, but the only extant Lemurian Reptoid ship was impounded at the Atlantean stronghold of Area 51. When Sam told me this dream, he said that we had to raid the base and uncover its secrets. I told him he was schizophrenic and needed to take some meds.

            Three days later I had an identical dream, or at least identical enough to realize that Sam wasn’t actually full of it. So what did we do? I made a Facebook event. Like I said, I already believed in a lot of this stuff, and being friends with Sam definitely helped me develop these interests. Now, I ran a Facebook meme page, Shitposting cause I’m in shambles, and I knew that this was the perfect vehicle for our machinations. I figured that because it’s a meme page, it would come across as a simple joke. However, I also knew that there are some nutjobs out there crazy enough to do it, and those nutjobs would be our perfect distraction. The event blew up, just as we had hoped. One thing led to another, and before we knew it, it was September 20, 2019.

            Sam and I were camped out at one of the entrances as people started trickling in. The actual amount of people that pulled up was… less than hoped for. Not to be discouraged, I did what I was best at: making memes. I told a group to Naruto run towards the gates. They did. The exasperated guards manning the gate laughed and told the people to screw off. Sam and I donned our authentic The Lord of the Rings elven cloaks and began crawling about fifty feet to the right. Sure enough, the donut-eaters were too preoccupied with the mouth-breathers attending our event, so Sam and I were in the clear. We kept crawling. And crawling. And crawling.

            We had to move slowly or risk someone seeing us, either on surveillance or patrol. A few passed us, but none spotted us. We pushed onward until we saw what looked like a flight hangar and a runway. It looked like some derelict model that would be used in a post-apocalyptic movie. We crept as close as we could. Right when we reached the door of the hangar, we heard a loud whirring noise. We made our way inside and saw two abandoned airplanes that were far past their flying days, a few piles of cardboard boxes scattered here and there, and a black monolith with glowing blue markings smack in the middle of the room. We hid in some boxes. A few moments later, the monolith rose into the air as an elevator arrived at the surface. Some suits stepped out and broke into a dead sprint out of the hangar. When I say these guys looked like your stereotypical Men in Black, I mean it. They even had the perfectly opaque black sunglasses and everything. 

            Once they were gone, Sam and I shuffled over to the elevator while hiding in cardboard boxes and got inside. The control panel was… something. The panel was emitting a faint blue light and had three different buttons, each displaying a symbol I can’t even begin to describe. I pressed the third symbol. The whirring grew louder and the elevator plummeted. Within seconds we were… somewhere. The elevator doors opened and we exited, still hidden in our boxes. The hallways were all a sanitary white and they were eerily empty. It looked almost like a Call of Duty zombies map. Sam and I crept through these hallways, peering into every dark room we passed, but every single one was abandoned. They were filled with long tables and medical equipment. At least I think it was medical equipment. I saw what looked like scissors, tweezers, hammers, pliers, saws, clamps, stethoscopes, razors, knives, corkscrews, and everything in-between. In one such room, we found white labcoats and decided to put them on. It’s a good thing that we did because there are a few details I’ve glossed over.

            I acknowledge that the description of our exploits in the base thus far are a little boring. It was boring to us too because I could barely see anything through the box I was using as cover like I was Solid freaking Snake. I could see under the box a bit but that was kind of it, which made it easy to ditch them for the labcoats as soon as we could. We also donned the labcoats because we were about thirty seconds from having our cover blown. You see, Sam is not what I would I call a “small” man. What I mean when I say that is that God decided to give him an entire bakery of an ass. While we were sneaking around, every so often I heard a faint clapping noise. Eventually, we heard a voice, and it was getting closer. Sam and I ducked into the room immediately on our right and shut the door. We flung the boxes off and stood up.

            “Bro I shit you not we were trying to sneak around but I’m dummy thicc and the clap from my asscheeks alerted the guards,” Sam said with the most shit-eating grin he could muster.

            I burst out laughing. “Bro,” I said. “Come on, we can’t get caught and these boxes are a dead giveaway we don’t belong here.” We quickly scanned the room and saw the labcoats. We through them on and had just finished fastening our doctor masks when the door was flung open.

            “Who’s in there?” a man in a black suit shouted. In one hand he had a drawn Desert Eagle and in the other he had an industrial grade LED flashlight.

            “It’s just us,” Sam said, stepping forward into the light. He raised his hand to shield his eyes.

            “Who are you? Show me your IDs?” the man barked.

            Sam sighed. “Look, I really don’t want to do this. Can’t you just make an exception this one time?”

            “Who are you?” the man shouted even louder as he leveled his gun at Sam’s chest.

            Sam sighed again. “Dammit man, why are you gonna make me spell it out? Look, I’m not supposed to be here right now, and neither is my friend.” Sam gestured to me. “We finished up our days an hour ago, but, well, we were kinda in the mood, so we snuck off to this abandoned room so we could, well, you know…” his voice trailed off.

            The man lowered his gun, a look of shock and disbelief covering his otherwise emotionless face. “What the hell…” His voice was barely a whisper. He turned around and trudged out of the room. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” we heard him mutter.

            Once we were alone again, I gave Sam a high-five. “Bro what was that?”

            He shrugged. “Quick thinking I guess. Come on, we gotta go find that spaceship.”

We opened the door, took one step outside, and collided with another suit.

            “Whoa whoa what’s the rush?” he asked us. I gave him a quick look. He had a rather square head with very prominent cheekbones and a pronounced chin. Cleanly combed back brown hair framed his face. His nose was a little larger than most, so there’s a nonzero chance he had a little Jew in him. He stared at us with his green eyes. Honestly, he kind of looked like a younger David Duchovny. Oh and he was most certainly a fed and not just a security guard.

            “Just trying to get out of here for the day,” I replied nonchalantly. Or at least I hoped I sounded nonchalant. Truth be told I was on the verge of painting my pants brown.

            We turned and began walking away. “Wait a minute,” he called out. I died a little inside. “You two aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” I looked over at Sam and he was grimacing. I nodded to him. Sam nodded back. But before we could break into a full-on sprint, this fed said something I never could’ve predicted: “I’m not supposed to be here either.”

            I turned to face him, disbelief evident on my face. “Who are you then? And how did you know we were trespassing?”

            “My name is Max Fulder. I’m with the FBI, and I work on… let’s just call them the weird cases you always hear the conspiracy theories about, like Mothman, alien abductions, JFK’s assassination, and families of inbred domestic terrorists. It wasn’t hard to tell you weren’t from around here. I know some nerdy doctors, but you hobbits are a long ways from Mordor.” He gestured to our cloaks sticking awkwardly out the backs of our labcoats. “Then again maybe you’re in the heart of Mordor and Mount Doom is just around the corner.”

            “So why are you here?” Sam asked.

            “I’m looking for something.”

            “Yeah well so are we. You help us, we help you. I need to find the Lemurian Reptoid spaceship and take it to be reunited with my sister who the Lemurian Reptoids abducted because she’s basically their Virgin Mary. Minus the virgin part I guess.”

            “Huh.” Max stroked his smooth chin with his hand. “Something similar happened to my sister but it was the Greys. Alright I’ll do what I can. What do you know about the spaceship?”

            “It’s here. That’s it.”

            “Helpful. I think I saw it back that way in an underground hangar.” Max pointed in the direction that we were heading.

            “So what are you looking for?” I asked.

            Max sighed and rubbed his temple with his hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but the deep state has made an alliance with the aliens and my partner, Sara Dulley, and I were getting so close that they abducted her, impregnated her, erased her memories, then gave her Stage 5 Terminal Space Cancer for good measure. I need to find the cure hidden here so I can save her from the Space Cancer.”

            “Yeah that tracks,” Sam said. “Charlotte warned me about the evil Atlantean Reptoids that run everything.

            “Good we’re on the same page,” Max replied deadpan. “Follow me.”

            We did. That man led us through twisting corridors and dark hallways as we navigated the endless labyrinthine complex. We didn’t talk. We couldn’t. Once when we tried to start some small talk with Max, he held his index finger to his lips with one hand, then pointed with the other into a dark room. We strained our eyes to see through the darkness, but we could make out the shape of a humanoid thing just standing there.

            “Reptoid Mandroids,” Max whispered. We nodded and continued on. We crept through those subterranean tunnels for hours, guided only by the pale flickering fluorescent lights above us. We didn’t encounter a soul. Makes sense, I suppose. The Reptoids know no one is gonna make it into Area 51, and if someone does that’s what the Mandroids are for.

            Then we heard the sound of footsteps up ahead of us. We ducked into a nearby dark room right as the voices became audible.

            “The hell is he here for?” one grumbled. The voice was deep yet raspy. We hid next to the door frame, crouched under a window and it took all of my willpower not to take a peek.

            “Heightened security. Some jackass posted a Facebook event about raiding the compound. A Facebook event! Can you believe the audacity!” a similarly husky voice replied.

            “Are you sure it’s not just a, what do they call it again, meme?”

            “It probably is but the big Z is spooked. That event is the equivalent of getting a letter delivered to your house that just says, ‘I know where you live and I’m coming for you.’ I don’t blame him for being spooked.”

            “So what do we know about the guy? The one that orchestrated this?”

            “Matty Roberts. Not your typical conspiracy theorist but he’s fallen in with Lazar and Rogan.”

            “Didn’t we assassinate Lazar last year?”

            “No you’re thinking of Lasaar.”

            “No I remember Lasaar. He was the pipe bomb in the mail. Didn’t we get Lazar with anthrax?”

            “No you’re thinking of Scott Ian, the guy in the band Anthrax. We killed him with a car bomb and sent in a Mandroid body double so no one got suspicious.”

            “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

            The voice trailed off as they finally left us. We gave them a few more minutes, then emerged from our hiding place. The hallway was empty.

            “We’re getting close,” Max whispered. “It sounds like your little raid pissed off a high-ranking Reptoid. Getting to the ship isn’t going to be easy.” We pushed onward, but now we began to encounter more consistent patrols. Like clockwork we had to duck for cover in a nearby room every 10 minutes. Then every 5. Then we couldn’t.

            I still remember the sequence of events like it was a nightmare. We had just dodged a patrol and left a room. Max turned the corner first (being a fed he at least looked like he belonged). His expression changed from one of mild unease from all the sneaking to abject horror. He ducked back around the corner and immediately shooed for us to move. We legged it into the closest room and Max shut the door. We heard him turn every lock and push some furniture against the door to make a barricade.

            “Guards. They saw me. I don’t know if they’re going to come after us, but I’m not waiting to find out.” A knocking at the door punctuated Max’s statement. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of resignation.

            “No we’re not out of this yet,” Sam said with conviction. He began pacing around the room and touching everything that wasn’t nailed down. Eventually he found what he was looking for: an air vent. It was tough, but the three of us together were able to rip it off. It was an even tighter fit, but we could do it. Max led the way again.

            Now, I’m not a claustrophobic person. I was a very claustrophobic person in that moment. “You know people die in here,” I said awkwardly as we inched our way onwards. “They aren’t nearly as big as movies always make them out to be.”

            “Matty,” Sam said from directly behind me, “you know I love you like a brother, but please shut up.”

            “We’re almost there,” I heard Max say ahead of me. “If my guy’s map is right, this vent should take us to the hangar where you should be able to find the ship you’re looking for.”

            A few minutes later, we emerged from our metal prison and took cover behind a pile of crates. What I saw defies description. Countless humanoid lizards scurried about the sprawling hangar. Bizarre vehicles occupied the docks and loading bays. Some looked like corkscrews that folded in on themselves while others were many-treaded behemoths with enough turrets and cannons to put a Lockheed AC-130 to shame. One was even a cube. Like it was JUST a cube. Then we saw the Atlantean ship. It HAD to have been. Every vehicle in the room had a dark gray color scheme with green accents. The Atlantean ship was the only one that didn’t. It was purple with blue accents and had more curves than anything else there. Its wings were thin and spindly and it looked like it only accommodated one pilot. Honestly, it looked a lot like a Banshee from Halo. Unfortunately, hundreds of Reptoids stood between Sam and his not-Banshee. Then we saw him.

            I looked up as what I can only describe as a stage on wheels came driving across the hangar floor. Standing on top was Mark freaking Zuckerberg. I KNEW that asshole was a lizard, and now the entire world can know the truth. He looked like he always does, the pale white skin of his flesh-suit looking luminescent under the heated fluorescent lights. His beady eyes scanned every inch of his fell kingdom. Then I felt his hatred target us like Sauron’s gaze settling on Frodo after he puts on the One Ring. The Zuck flicked his wrist in our general direction and the lizardmen began pouring forth.

            “Alright kid, now’s your chance. I have a plan,” Max said as he looked us both up and down. “That ship can only hold one of you. Figure it out and best of luck to the both of you.” He rose from his cover and began approaching the horde of lizards. “Whoa whoa what’s with the hostility guys? You all know me.”

            “Silence meat puppet,” Zuckerberg said in a commanding voice, his lizard fangs visible even from this distance. “You are not the one I seek. Though you are one who opposes me.”

            “What do you mean by that?” Max replied as casually as he could. “We killed the real Max Fulder two years ago. Remember, we sent him anthrax in the mail. I’m his body double replacement.”

            “You cannot lie to me, meat puppet!” Zuckerberg roared. He raised his arm in command and his dread legion surged forward.

            “Well shit,” Max swore to himself. He drew his Glock 22 and began unloading into the green tide. He emptied mag after mag as every bullet found its mark. I turned to Sam. He stood there transfixed like a toddler with his hand glued to a burning doorknob.

            “Run,” I said as I gave him a good punch in the arm.

            “What,” he said, the glassy look disappearing as he turned back to look at me.

            “Run. We’ve got this.” I smiled at him. He smiled back.

            “Take care buddy.” He wrapped his arms around me and patted my back twice. I did the same.

            “Good luck fulfilling your destiny and all that.” I rose to my feet and began approaching Max. The onslaught was forcing him backward and I could tell his ammo was running low. I looked around and saw a strange object sitting on a nearby crate. It was heavy. I held the barrel with my left hand and kept my right hand on the grip. “Max! Duck!” He turned, saw me, and dove to the ground. I pulled the trigger and didn’t stop. The thing in my hand whirred to life, blue lights illuminating everywhere as it began spitting bolts of plasma. It tore through the advancing horde like a fat boy in a candy aisle or a frat boy in a liquor store. I don’t know how long I held the trigger down, but the thing just kept shooting. Before I knew it, Max had crawled away to safety and I could see Sam rapidly approaching his destined ship.

            “Stop!” the Zuck bellowed. “The third meat puppet seeks the Dark Side of the Moon! He is to be our destroyer! Run him down!” The green tide shifted, turning towards the not-Banshee. Sam was close. But not close enough.

            “Get out of here kid,” Max called to me. I turned around as a giant mechanical suit of armor strode past me. “You saved my ass kid, now it’s time I saved yours.” The armor strode forward on thick pillars of metal and circuits. In its arms it carried a gun that looked a lot like the one I held, only much larger. Two missile racks were attached to each shoulder. Max fired everything he had. I didn’t wait to see what happened next, I turned and ran.

            As I did, I tripped. Carrying such a heavy piece of weaponry threw me off balance and I wasn’t thinking straight. I knew it was time to leave, but my dumb ass held onto the gun, so I fell. It clattered to the ground and broke apart. I saw a shining red and was drawn to it. A lot of its attachments were modular, so the fall knocked them all off and revealed the core weapon. It looked like a retro space ray gun complete with red paint and silver accents, a heat gauge, and a glass cover where you could see the blue ammo of indeterminate element that weaponized it. It felt nostalgic to hold in my hands as if my entire childhood had prepared me for this moment. I took the ray gun and ran. I heard a screeching noise like a woman crying, only much louder, start up behind me. Zuckerberg screamed something and the screeching noise grew louder. I heard more explosions, but I didn’t bother turning around. My words wouldn’t do it justice.

            I ran through those twisting hallways as fast as my legs could carry me. I indiscriminately shot every Reptoid and Mandroid that crossed my path in my mad dash to freedom. I eventually escaped, as evidenced by this account, so I won’t waste any more of your time, or mine, recounting it. There is, however, one last encounter worth revealing. While running through the identical hallways, I passed a room, then immediately backtracked and looked inside. A beautiful young woman sat in a rocking chair, gently swaying back in forth. She was clad in a seamless white garment. Her features were too beautiful for my paltry words to describe. I didn’t dare enter the room. She glanced up at me and met my eyes.

            “Care. Barack Hussein Obama Care,” she said. She returned to her rocking.

            I chuckled to myself as I turned and went on my way. “Thanks Victoria.”