Aliens versus Predators and Zombies: Get Smart People, Wake Up — Your Government's Not Your Friend, ET Was
Chapter 1: Kick the Can with the World
The sky was a bruised purple over the abandoned playground. Rusty swings creaked in the wind, and the world felt like it was holding its breath. In the center stood ET—not the wrinkled puppet from the movies, but a sharp-eyed woman in a hoodie, holding a glowing, high-tech can. Around her, a dozen zombie citizens shuffled aimlessly, faces aglow in the blue light of their phones.
Agent Max, a clueless but well-meaning human, peeked nervously from behind a slide. Predator Agent Smith, in a cheap suit and sunglasses, stalked the perimeter, clutching a government-issued ray gun.
ET tossed the can between her hands, addressing the zombies.
"You know, I've been playing kick the can with this planet for decades," she said. "You think I'm just here for Reese's Pieces and long-distance calls? Nah. I'm here to wake you up. But you never listened. Not really."
She kicked the can gently. It rolled and emitted a soft, musical chime. The zombies didn't react.
Agent Max stepped out, whispering, "ET! We gotta get outta here! That guy—he's with the Department of Alien Affairs! He's got a gun that turns brains to pudding!"
ET smiled. "Relax, Max. He's not the one you should be worried about. It's these folks—" she gestured to the zombies, "—the ones who stopped listening a long time ago."
Predator Agent Smith raised his ray gun. "Freeze! By order of the government, you are under arrest for unauthorized communication with the public!"
ET shrugged. "You mean for telling the truth? I've been speaking all along. You just weren't listening right."
Agent Max blinked. "Wait, you could always talk? But… you just made weird noises and pointed at stuff!"
"That's what you heard," ET grinned. "But I was speaking in signals, in colors, in patterns you never bothered to see. You were too busy watching reruns and scrolling your feeds."
The zombies moaned, repeating government slogans in monotone: "Trust the system. Consume. Obey. Don't question."
ET turned to them, louder. "Wake up! You're not zombies. You're dreamers who forgot how to dream. You're thinkers who traded thoughts for comfort."
She held up the glowing can. It pulsed with light, casting strange shadows.
Predator Agent Smith advanced. "Enough! Hand over the device, alien. The government will decide what the people need to know."
"You mean what they need to forget," ET shot back. "Kick the can, kick the truth, kick the questions down the road. That's your game, Smith."
Agent Max, finding courage, said, "Maybe it's time we stopped kicking the can. Maybe it's time we started listening."
ET nodded. "Now you're getting it, Max."
She pressed a button on the can. A holographic projection burst forth—images of history, government lies, and people waking up. The zombies blinked, confused, some lowering their phones.
One zombie groaned, "What… what's happening?"
Another whimpered, "Why does everything feel… different?"
Predator Agent Smith panicked. "No! Shut it down! Shut it down now!"
ET stepped forward, voice rising. "You tried to make me silent. You tried to make them deaf. But truth has a frequency you can't jam."
Agent Max turned to the zombies. "Listen! She's been trying to help us! We just never heard her."
ET addressed the crowd. "You want to know the real alien invasion? It's not me. It's the invasion of your minds—by fear, by lies, by apathy. But you can fight back. All you have to do is listen. Really listen."
The zombies began to wake, dropping their phones, looking around in wonder. The playground came alive with color.
Predator Agent Smith, desperate, screamed, "You can't do this! The government is your friend! We keep you safe!"
ET smirked. "Safe from what? From thinking? From questioning? From being alive?"
She tossed the can to Max, who caught it, surprised.
"Your turn," ET said. "Kick the can. Start the change."
Max hesitated, then kicked the can. It exploded in a shower of sparks and music. The zombies cheered. Smith dropped his gun and fled.
ET turned to the crowd. "Remember: Be smart. Don't be a zombie. Wake up."
She raised a glowing finger to the sky. The crowd laughed, cheered, and began to dance as the playground transformed into a festival of light and sound.
Chapter 2: The Real Special K
Later that night, at the bustling Men in Black headquarters, ET—now in a sharp black suit—stormed through the main hall. Agents rushed past, alien tech blinked, and the air buzzed with secrets.
At the coffee station, Agent J (Will Smith) and Agent K argued over paperwork.
ET slammed her badge on the table, startling them. "Alright, listen up, Agents! You've been looking for aliens in all the wrong places. I've been right here, hiding in plain sight, and y'all still can't see what's right in front of your faces!"
Agent J grinned. "Whoa, slow down, Special K! You need to chill, girl—grab a donut or somethin'."
ET pointed at him, fierce. "Don't call me Special K like I'm some cereal prize. I'm the real Special K—not 'cause I'm special needs, but 'cause I never got special treatment, and you still don't get it!"
Agent K deadpanned, "You're making a scene, K. We're just doing our jobs."
ET rolled her eyes. "Doing your jobs? You keep shooting the wrong n-itch, b! Every time the truth shows up, you're aiming at the messenger, not the message."
Agent J raised an eyebrow. "So what, you're saying you're not an alien?"
"I'm as human as you are, J," ET smirked. "Difference is, I see what you refuse to see. You're so busy chasing little green men, you miss the big picture—the real invasion is ignorance, and you're letting it run wild!"
Agent K sighed. "We follow orders, K. That's what keeps the world spinning."
ET stepped closer, voice commanding. "Maybe it's time to stop spinning in circles. Maybe it's time to wake up and see who's really pulling the strings. You want to save the world? Start by opening your damn eyes."
She grabbed her badge, turned on her heel, and stormed out, leaving J and K speechless. Other agents stared, some finally looking thoughtful.
Agent J muttered, "Man… I think she just neuralyzed my whole brain."
Epilogue
Back at the playground, the world felt a little brighter. People were talking, questioning, and—most importantly—listening. ET, the real Special K, watched from the shadows, a small smile on her face.
She knew the truth was out there. And this time, maybe, someone would finally hear it.
THE END