Humanity at its finest

Creative Writing


Aliens have had the unfortunate dishonor of meeting Planet #67430, also known as “Earth” to its inhabitants. Their mother ship carries one specimen of the dominant species from every planet they’ve encountered. The contribution is a show of partnership, and being chosen is regarded as an honor. This system safeguards interstellar peace and ensures safety for all its inhabitants. Meanwhile, humans can not seem to live on a floating rock without conflict. Despite the unfavorable character traits of the species, humans are also given the same deal. One homo-sapien must join the crew or planet-wide annihilation.

So who is getting the boot? This difficult decision is left teetering on the very backs of our planet’s government leaders, of which there happen to be many, because humans don’t know how to share. As a result, all 195 countries’ leaders gathered in neutral Switzerland. “Neutral,” because century-long grudges prevent them from making one globally significant decision. Of course, they all have an additional guest to make sure they act in their country’s best interests.

They have three days to choose the lucky winner who gets a free ride to space (Jeff Bezos could have saved some big bucks). The first day mostly consists of security guards escorting the more violent attendees out of the building and translating angry politicians who don’t know when to stop talking. Humans are foolish in times of desperation.

The second day is similar, but they have finally declared their prompt: “What type of person is best equipped to be the figurehead of our planet?” One who reflects our best traits, like Mother Teresa? Or will it be someone who stands for everything we actually are today, like a dialed-down Peter Griffin? An incoherent public speaker who is riddled with racism, slight pedophilia, and is a strong believer in the theory that if you can say it louder, it is correct. The problem with these two candidates is that Mother Teresa is dead and Peter Griffin is fictional.

The third day is a rush of panic, and in the midst of it all comes forth a jumbled-up idea that would disappoint their mothers. Guess what the lovely world government of Planet #67430 does in the end: they create false documentation of a homeless person living on the streets of New York. Why New York? Well, it was a very high-stakes game of charades.

So, from a wildly rigged national choice of, “let’s get this over with and forget to tell our civilians,” John Doe is plucked from his shredded, wind-whipped tent. Yes, without consent, but unconscious so it’s fair game, right? He is then transferred to the straight-out-of-a-sci-fi comic spacecraft to become the spokesperson for their planet. Out of sight, out of mind.

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