I wrote this in a long email to Cara, as a mock report on Hole Child's annual midnight flight. It would not exist had it not been for sincere efforts on my part to combat my own loneliness.
On the night of January 9, 2001, as all we educated Holechildfighters know well, Hole Child went on its midnight flight. Although I was (as usual) frightfully busy with the crap that Torrey Pines High School shoves down our throats, I knew it was my duty to do what the Princess desired: observe this terrible occurrence, and write to HQ about it. On the day of the Flight, Hole Child was missing from school. I believe I told you about this, but if that email was also confiscated by H.C's web-sabotage, then I will try again to get this information through to you. I believe I also told you about Hole Child's pale little Freshman substitute. After school, I waited alone in Del Mar. When the sun went down, I wandered around the streets in my sleek blue Volvo, inconspicuous and waiting. And finally, as the clock struck midnight and the traffic waned to almost nil, I saw it out of the corner of my eye: a whitish creature gliding off into the sky. And when the pale blue moonlight reflected off its shiny new laptop,
I knew that I had spotted it. It glided slowly--a hideous creature, it was! More hideous that we could ever have believed! Its face, contorted, only vaguely human. Bulbous--I believe its head is about thrice the mass of the rest of its frail little body. And speaking of its frail little body, I was luckily spared from viewing the particulars of its Hole Child anatomy, as it wore a small loincloth--perhaps even Hole Child has discovered that it must not stray from within the bounds of common decency. I know of this detail because, in its slow gliding, driven by the small propellers of its beanie (and perhaps some other, unknown force), it circled above me. In stupefied disgust, I watched as it passed, loincloth (small, indeed) flapping noiselessly in the wind. Then, in the name of scientific discovery, I parked the car by the side of the road, and jumped out. I decided, if on foot, perhaps it will be easier--I will be able to dart through gardens and backyards, over fences and under trees. And besides--Hole Child wasn't moving that fast!
This may have been the end of my night, but by no means was it the end of Hole Child's. Talking to fellow Holechildfighter Andrew Lee the next morning, I discovered something critical: Andrew Lee, on the night of Hole Child's midnight flight, had been flying over the Pacific on a jet plane! Co-incidence? I think not! Indeed, after some coaxing, Lee came clean with the story. This is what happened, later that night, after I had gone to sleep:
Trying desperately to nap aboard the lumbering jet, Lee heard a frightful noise. Through the walls it went, through the barriers of air cushioning and low pressure: "Nyeahhhhh! Nyeahhhhhhhh!" The war-cry of the Hole Child! Then, looking through his miniscule coach window, he saw this: Hole Child itself, glowing in the silver moon, clinging desperately onto the wing of the liner. Apparently it had punctured a small hole into the wing, and it held on by means of its contorted fingers. Its laptop held on faithfully, suspended by Hole Child's trusty chain. But what frightened Lee the most was the fact that he could have imagined it, but he was almost certain that the creature's horrible, bulging eyes were focused directly at him! Lee stared back, afraid. What could he do? Still half-asleep, he staggered to the front of the plane, eyed suspiciously by vengeful stewardesses, and politely addressed the pilot. "Hello, Mr. Pilot." No response. "This is Andrew Lee speaking." Still no response. "I think you should know, there's a hole child clinging on to the left wing of the plane." Finally the pilot, "Donald," turned and looked Lee in the eye. "Son," he responded, "What kind of crack have you been smoking?" Lee, faithful to the holechildfighter cause (although a little dim) disregarded this crass comment and said to the captain, "I think it would be in our best interestsssssssssss to perform certain fancy maneuvers on this plane. Try to shake off the Hole Child. I think that if we do nothing about us, it will get to us all." The pilot, far from alarmed, nonchalantly ordered the copilot to lock him up in the storage compartment. Lee would have none of it. "I'm tired of all these shenanigans!" he screamed. And, using all the nifty moves he learned from the chink movie 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,' he knocked the pilot unconscious and began to maneuver the plane himself. Lee had not had any previous experience with aircraft, spacecraft, or anything overly technical, so his first few minutes in the pilot's seat were a little shaky. Many queasy passengers tossed up boxloads of the airline's mystery meats and cheeses, which dribbled slowly to the cockpit (is that what you call it?) and congealed slowly thereafter. Meanwhile, Lee got a pretty good hold of the plane, and when the pilot regained consciousness and re-assumed his position, Lee went back to his seat and looked outside his window. Indeed, his antics had been enough to cast H.C. off into the sky, so the plane headed safely back to San Diego. But where had Hole Child gone to? In truth, nobody knows. We send back our sincere apologies for not being able to track this flight from start to finish, but we did our absolute best.
Epilogue:
On the tenth, the day following the midnight flight, Hole Child reportedly showed up to 1st period Trupe looking awfully drowsy. "Chris sure looks tired," Trupe commented. Colin, knowledgeable (though not necessarily understanding) about these pertinent matters, told Trupe that it must surely be exhausted after the goings-on of the night before. Last night was, after all, the first full moon of the year. "Ahhh, the Midnight Flight," he replied, suddenly realizing the implications of this earth-shattering event.
Who knows what Hole Child did, who it converted, between the hours of my departure and its rendezvous with Lee's plane? And who knows what happened between Lee's piloting of the jet, and the glorious moment of dawn? Nobody does. Maybe it made a conversion...or maybe it didn't. It's too late for us to change anything. But we must still prepare, for after all, there is always next year.
I wrote this for an "editorial" that The Entertainer, the godawful magazine that I interned for last year, was supposedly going to run. Of course my mentor quit her position as editor a few days before I submitted the article, so of course the new editor didn't want to run it. Not that I blame her. And yeah...now that I look at it again, the previous story is far superior to this "article".
Just recently, my parents bought me a nice new laptop for my eighteenth birthday. A few days later, I attempted to save an "illegal" file to a disk; the computer, in response to my cyber-rebellion, hissed malevolently as the desktop transformed instantaneously into an intriguing pattern of red lines that refused to leave my screen for any reason whatsoever. Indeed, the pattern persisted until I disconnected the laptop from the jack and let it run until the battery went dead. Drained by this bout with antipathetic technology, only one thought enveloped my mind: "This must be a Hole Child's work."
You may be wondering...what, exactly, is a Hole Child? Perhaps a little background would be helpful.
Out on the fringes of our solar system, beyond Jupiter, beyond Pluto, beyond even Wisconsin, there exists a tiny, dark little planet known as Zitron. On its seemingly uninhabitable surface, there thrives an entire race of quasi-human creatures called Hole Children. These extraterrestrial beings are cursed (or blessed?) with highly developed brains and underdeveloped bodies, and are marked with an affinity for computer technology. How do these extraterrestrial beings make use of human technology, do you ask? Well, the answer is simple. They created it. Nobody can identify the exact year when Hole Child delegates were sent to the planet Earth intending to infiltrate it, but we can be fairly certain that the "people" who were responsible for the majority of breakthroughs in computer technology were indeed Hole Children, or were at least operating under the influence of Hole Children. In fact, there is good reason to believe that a certain key figure in the world of computer technology is a very powerful Hole Child; I will refrain from mentioning "its" name, however, because I have a good notion of its power, and I happen to value my life.
Hole Children on Earth are kept "in line" by food that is transported monthly from the home planet. This substance, known on Earth loosely as "Jell-O," contains a mind-controlling substance that keeps Hole Children loyal to their Cause: making Earth Hole-Child-friendly, so that Hole Children can take it over with relative ease sometime in the near future.
1) Hole Children, as the name suggests, live inside holes in the ground. Because of the lack of light on planet Zitron, these creatures are unaccustomed to direct sunlight, and thus such contact would severely maim them. Because their bodies are so underdeveloped, they have trouble physically digging holes. For this reason, most live in the public sewer system, coming in and getting out through manholes.
2) Because Hole Children are physically wizened, and because they must avoid direct sunlight, transformation is critical to their survival. Before emerging from their holes, they undergo a metamorphosis in which they take on a much more human form. Behind the safety of this humanesque facade, Hole Children carry out everyday activities and daily acts of subterfuge. This is the guise with which Hole Children will attempt to fool human beings into considering them "normal."
3) Despite this transformation, Hole Children are still pale-skinned and avoid sunlight more than their human counterparts. Hats are often used to block the sun's powerful rays.
4) Hole Children, when they meet, often speak in Java (older Hole Children will sometimes converse in C++). Hole Children on planet Zitron developed both of these languages.
5) Hole Children breed with the aid of a computer. Although the process is not asexual, the male and female Hole Child need not actually touch.
6) Hole Children can gain sustenance from nothing but Jell-O. When they are observed eating human food, it is all for show. To the Hole Child, this food tastes slightly unpleasant, but it does not affect the Hole Child's health in any way.
7) Hole Children spend significant time using computers (particularly laptops), for they use internet technology to (a) communicate with each other and with their home planet, and (b) plan their conquest of the world.
8) On the first full moon of every year, every Hole Child emerges from its hole on the stroke of midnight, unconverted to its human form. Then, with its laptop dangling from its wrist on a chain, it takes flight and attempts to convert as many people as possible into Hole Children. This is the only night during which Hole Children can convert by touch. Which brings me to...
You do NOT want to be converted into a Hole Child! To avoid such an unenviable fate, follow my sound advice:
· On the first full moon of every year, stay indoors after midnight, and don't answer the door.
· Be wary of so-called "persons" who seem to match up with one or more Hole Child characteristics. Such entities can be dangerous! Gradual conversions are much more common than those that occur on the first full moon, and are less likely to be reported.
· Please do not sit at your computer for so long that your muscles begin to atrophy. This is a step towards Holechildism, and a crime that many of us are guilty of.
Thank you, and beware of Hole Child.
That last "Word of Caution" is a little hypocritical, don't you think?
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