A Log Truck Driver In Outer Space
Copyright© 2007 by cmsix
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 25 - Billy Joe Stephens, a real life good ole boy from North East Texas, has an early morning encounter with Space Aliens. Anal probing is not what he is wishing for in this First Contact.
I'll be damned if I didn't wake with the sunrise the next morning. It didn't matter because I felt good and was in an excellent mood on top of that. I made it to the bathroom first to boot, and I'd finished with the hard part, dressed, and was out in the kitchen making coffee before Charlie noticed I was moving under my own power and decided to get in touch with my head.
"There has been a slight development since your meeting with the honorable Jotalta Caldonton. In fact, there was an ancillary development, which might force him to leave for a few days. I still cannot break the encryption he is using nor can I break the executive encryption on the return message, though I was almost sure I would be able to. At any rate the speed of the reply means the government is sparing no expense, since the messages' travel time shows that the chief executive called for their fastest transmission," he said.
"Then how did you learn of the ancillary development you mentioned if you can't break the code?"
"I learned of it through a different channel. In fact I feel certain that I learned of it before the chief executive did. I feel that the honorable Jotalta Caldonton will not move to try taking care of it unless the chief executive allows it," he said.
"How in the hell can the chief executive tell a private citizen what to do regarding the citizen's private affairs?" I asked.
"Easily if he thinks the situation is grave. Even a mere strong, non-binding, suggestion from the chief executive carries powerful connotations and is almost always honored. If an emergency declaration is made though, even made in secret, failing to comply can earn a person the death penalty," Charlie said.
"I see. What is this development you learned of?"
"Elvis has gone into a snit and he has refused to appear for the last three engagements," Charlie said.
"I still don't see why that is such a big deal," I said.
"Most of the proceeds from tickets to see Elvis go directly to the government and they help keep taxes lower," he said.
"Damnation! What does the tickets cost?" I asked.
"They are very expensive and his performing space station is huge. Nearly half a million people attend per show," he said.
"I think I'm beginning to understand. Can't they hire someone else?" I asked.
"They have never tried before, but there have been some rumors they are anxiously awaiting Mick Jagger's death and intend to do a snatch and repair if they can possibly arrange it," he said.
"If it's as important to them as you say I don't think they'll be so willing to give up Earth for me," I said.
"The Coalition is immense compared to your only frame of reference but your planet does have a bit of folk wisdom that covers this situation. I think it's "The right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing."
"In other words, contingency planning is not high on the list of things for the government to do," I said.
"To be fair, or more nearly so, they do have many things vying for their attention," Charlie said.
"Why don't you give the honorable Jotalta Caldonton a call and tell him I'll play a couple of dates if it will help out," I said.
"I wasn't aware that you were a famous musician," he said.
"I'm not famous, I'm just good. I can play every song Elvis knows and hundreds more. In fact, I can sound almost exactly like him if I want to, but I don't do that often," I said.
"I can't even imagine why you don't," he said.
"Hell, it's easy. I don't care that much for Elvis. That's why I don't imitate him much. Besides, I can actually play my guitar," I said.
"If you can sing and play as well as you're telling me, you should inform the honorable Jotalta Caldonton at once. Perhaps you should even give him a sample," Charlie said.
"Get hold of his intelligent machine and see if it will help things along. I'll tune up a guitar and warm up my voice, just in case," I said, and got started.
The women were out in the kitchen cooking by now but they didn't miss a bit of what I was doing. Questions started as soon as I picked up the Gibson. I knew I'd never get going unless I answered at least a few.
"Elvis is on a small strike and I'm going to offer to do a few shows to help the negotiation thing along. I'll try to let the government think I'm doing it in good faith, but I have a sneaking suspicion if I'm a hit they'll have even more trouble with me if they don't come around. If we have to reveal what a terrible injustice we've been put through it won't hurt a bit if I'm even just a little bit famous," I said, and they saw the truth in that at once.
On earth, hardly anyone gives a shit about a run of the mill nobody pregnant teenager but Jamie Lynn Spears showed us in a heartbeat that even the younger sister of a famous person can get the mud flying by spreading her legs and getting knocked up at sixteen. If I got minor recognition for the deal it would put the government even further behind the eight ball.
After tuning up I ran through "Love Me Tender." If I was going to fill in for Elvis, it should surely be a good one right off the bat. I'd just finished when Charlie let me know that the honorable Jotalta Caldonton thought the suggestion was tremendous and he was anxious to hear me perform.
"Well, can't you just drop him into one of the overstuffed chairs here?" I asked.
"What a wonderful suggestion. But since he is sitting in his own custom made chair right now I think I'll just bring it along. Do you want him to appear while you are already performing or should I put him here first?" Charlie asked, and damned if he didn't sound excited.
"Where exactly will you place him?" I asked, and when Charlie put a spot of light on the floor I moved over to face it and about fifteen feet away.
It only took a second to remember I was in sweats, so I had Charlie hold things while I went to the bedroom, put on some jeans, a rodeo shirt, dragged on my boots, and checked my hair in the bathroom. Back in the living room I picked up the Gibson again and told Charlie to make the move. I reminded him to give the honorable Jotalta Caldonton a little run down on what was happening while he moved him, and he said he would.
Five or six seconds later the honorable Jotalta Caldonton appeared in our living room. I gave him a few seconds to recover from the abrupt change in scenery, and then hit him between the eyes with "Hound Dog."
You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
Cryin' all the time
You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Cryin all the time
You ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine...
I did it in my best Elvis voice but left out a few little things that Elvis usually did in an effort to make the repetitive lyrics sound a little more creative. Hell, there was no point in doing vocal tricks. It worked better without trying to add vocal syncopation when it wasn't called for.
I had the honorable Jotalta Caldonton's attention now and I didn't let him have time to think before I chimed in wiht "In The Ghetto."
As the snow flies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
A poor little baby child is born
In the Ghetto
And his Mama cries
Cause if there's one thing that she don't need
It's another hungry mouth to feed
In the Ghetto...
I didn't really care much for the track but what the hell. Millions had loved it and apparently they'd never seen the incongruence of a man rich enough to fly his personal big-bodied jet from Memphis to Denver for peanut butter and banana sandwiches emoting over a poor Chicago bastard. Maybe I was being to hard on a dumbass from Tupelo Mississippi who hit it big with a nice voice and a shaking ass.
But back at the salt mines I gave him a dose of "Jailhouse Rock."
The warden threw a party in the county jail.
The prison band was there and they began to wail.
The band was jumpin' and the joint began to swing.
You should've heard those knocked out jailbirds sing.
Let's rock, everybody, let's rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin' to the jailhouse rock...
I was about Elvised out by that time but I gave him a taste of "Are You Lonesome Tonight" for good measure, hoping to get him in the mood for something completely different.
Are you lonesome tonight
Do you miss me tonight
Are you sorry we drifted apart
Does your memory stray to a bright sunny day
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart
Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare
Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there
Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight...
I switched to someone I really admired then with the original version of Jerry Jeff Walker's classic, "Mr Bojangles."