Elvis Drives A Flying Saucer
We're all familiar with the claims that Elvis may have faked his death , and that there have been periodic sightings of him ever since. But , according to Wilbur Stump , of Las Vegas , Nevada , not only is Elvis alive and well , but living on an alien space ship , which he drives around the Mojave desert , mostly at night.
The reason for these nocturnal wanderings , according to Stump , is that Elvis was offered the chance to visit an alien world if he faked his death. Stump said that these particular aliens didn't much care for his music , and by faking his death he couldn't make anymore of that awful noise. They also thought that he dressed too much like Liberace , who had been a known sissy-boy when he was alive.
Elvis accepted the offer and now travels the desert in his very own UFO that the aliens gave him , spreading their message that they're here , watching over us , making sure that we don't do anything stupid , like blow ourselves up , or watch America's Next Top Model.
I interviewed Stump at a local restaurant. This is what he had to say.
"Of course it's real!" he said. "Do you think I sit around here all the time and make this stuff up?"
I didn't answer , afraid I might offend him again.
He looked like an old desert rat , who had spent too much time in the desert sun. His hair was thick and scruffy , with a beard to match , both of which were dirty and full of bits and pieces of tumble weed. His eyes were small and beady , like those of a rat.
Stump sat at a back booth , guzzling bottle after bottle of Lone Wolf beer. The table was littered with them. He was already as drunk as a skunk , and stank like one , too.
"I remember the first time I saw old Elvis. It was August of '79. The last time was 2006. I was nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels , and singing Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy , while looking for some flowers to water , when I hear Hound Dog by Elvis. It sounded like a radio being played from a distance. It went on for some time , then stopped like it was turned off. It spooked me. Then a beam of light shot out of the night sky , and there's Elvis in his sissy-boy , Liberace outfit. He was singing Conjunction Junction from that silly School House Rock cartoon from the seventies. Remember that one?"
He looked at me with drunken contempt , then continued with his tale.
"Elvis stops singing his song and says to me ,'Who loves ya baby?'
" 'Who do you think you are? Telly Saliva?'
" 'No , I'm Elvis Presley, you old fart. What are you doing out here in the dark?'
" 'What's it look like I'm doing , you sissy boy?' I says. 'I'm playin' with myself , you pecker!
" 'Whoa! Put that thing away , partner!'
" 'I'm not playin' with myself , you fool! I'm drunk!' I sprayed some pee on his leg for the insult ; he glanced at me with disgust , and shook it off.
" 'Hey! Don't you know who I am?!' he says.
" 'Of course I do. You just said so! You're Elvis. I always suspected you faked your death , you pecker , and now I know!'
The insult didn't phase him one bit. He says , 'Did you know that watching reality television shows like America's Next Top Model , will turn you into a girly- boy?'
" 'You must be a regular viewer ,' I says , pointing to his outfit.
"That insult didn't bother him either. He droned on like he hadn't heard me , or didn't care if someone made fun of the way he dressed. 'It's a known fact that if you watch enough of this crap , next thing you know you'll be parading around in a Tu - Tu and ballerina slippers.'
"We stared at each other for a moment. Finally , I shook my head.
" 'You don't seem surprised to see me ,' he says. 'I might be a fake for all you know.'
" 'You're no fake. You're that real pecker , Elvis , alright.'
" 'Why do you keep calling me pecker?'
" 'Cause you sold out ,' I says. 'You sold your soul to the aliens! You don't need to watch America's Next Top Model , or The Tyra Show! You've been a girly-boy all your life!'
" 'I aint no girly-boy , you old fart!' he says.
" 'Oh yeah?! Then what's with that silly looking outfit? Only girly-boys wear clothes like that!'
"He shook his head and looked at me like he thought I was crazy. Like he thought I was the crazy one. Can you believe it?! Like I was the one with the loose screw!
" 'I got news for you , baby ,' he says. 'You are crazier than a bed bug in June. I'm not the real Elvis. I'm an impersonator , doing a show at The Palms. I have to go now. Who loves ya , baby?'
"The bright light returned and took him back into the sky.
" 'Come back here , you pecker!' I shouted , pumping my fist at the sky. 'Elvis impersonator , my ass!' "
