Aliens have Landed

Well, at least I thought that the pod people had arrived in my backyard. And man, you can't imagine the hundreds of stories that ripped through my head as I examined the alien pod I found after raking away some leaves. It was the size of an enormous white chicken egg or a turkey egg. In fact, I thought it was an egg. I picked it up and the tissue thin white outer layer started to peel away. At that point, I was glad I had gloves on, but the memories of the blob racing up that old man's pointy stick made me put the object down. I pulled back part of the white tissue and noticed that the inside was a greenish gelatinous mess, and underneath the mess was what looked like dozens of small eyes. For a fleeting moment, I thought about an old monster movie where a monster evolves quickly from a small egg, Gorgon, I think, from Venus. However, the thought vanished the moment I remembered that there was a root to this thing: a dozen or so angel hair pasta extensions, the longest being about eight inches long. I didn't dare put my face closer. I'm no fool. That's exactly what it wants so it can grasp onto my face and suck my brains out. (Boy, would it be disappointed.) The eyes, however, looked lifeless, and as I looked at them more intently, I was wondering if it was making me do it or if I was doing it on my own. I decided, not eyes, but almost a small pockmarked pit with dark centers in each of the indentations.

I called a master gardener friend, figuring this was organic. She told me to leave it be. Then her cell phone cut out. Could it be that the pod people had gotten to her already?

I checked the Internet, and though I can't be certain, I think what I found was the egg stage of the Stinkhorn mushroom (Phallales Stinkhorn Gleba) which grows to be a penis shaped fungus about eight inches high and stinks like rotten meat or bad smelling feet to attract flies to suck of the gelatinous mess and spread its seeds. And in France, they eat the pit. EUUWWW. YUCK! Give me McDonalds.

I just checked outside to verify the dimensions. It's gone. Some paw-shaped footprints go off into the woods. All my lights are now on. My doors are locked. And I'm on the lookout for my neighbors French Poodle. Spooky.