The Antagonistic Relationship Between Extraterrestrial Shapeshifters and Cows

I was recently expanding my knowledge by watching an educational TV program in which men of science investigate extraterrestrial activity at a farm called “Skinwalker Ranch.” The series starts off with the men of science standing around a dead cow in a pasture, and one man of science states authoritatively, “This isn’t normal. It’s hard to kill a cow.” The other men of science agree, which is why my wife has very little respect for men or science. 

Notably, she points out there are no women of science involved in this investigation, which is a good point but easily explained: Likely women of science are too busy trying to cure cancer or other human ailments and not prioritizing what really matters, like whether extraterrestrials are visiting earth and tormenting our cows. 

Apparently, the reason the ranch is called “Skinwalker Ranch” is because the aliens beamed themselves down to earth, where they then use shapeshifting abilities to change skins and impersonate humans, meaning they’re hiding in plain sight and then sneaking off to kill cows in their down time. Of course, the men of science have some alternative hypotheses for the cow deaths, including radiation from UFO spaceships, laser beams from UFO spaceships, and one admittedly outlandish theory that the cow deaths are terrestrial in origin and caused by a yet-to-be discovered cryptozoological species living in a nearby desert cave. 

Speaking of cryptozoological species, the head of security for the investigative team is named “Dragon.” Dragon’s job is to carry big guns everywhere to protect the men of science from the aliens with radioactive laser beams. Dragon takes his job seriously, and on one occasion he gets spooked and shoots a tree, believing it to be an alien shapeshifted into vegetative form, but after closer inspection it was just a tree.

As you can imagine, this show is not only educational but quite entertaining, and frankly it’s not something you’d expect to see on the stuffy ole History Channel. In recent years the History Channel has really upped its historical game with all the focus on ancient aliens, who are much more interesting than their ancient human counterparts who sat around all day chipping away at stones and grunting. Recently, I’ve been trying to better myself by watching more mentally enriching TV like historical alien programming instead of mind-numbing TV like cable news, which spends too much talking about pointless politics and very little time on issues that are important to everyday Americans, like mysterious alien cattle mutilations. 

After about fifteen minutes of watching “Skinwalker Ranch,” I experienced some paranormal activity of my own when the remote mysteriously disappeared and the TV suddenly switched to HGTV. My first thought was to blame my wife–but then I remembered the simplest solution is the most likely, meaning either interference from an extraterrestrial laser beam or my wife is an extraterrestrial shapeshifter. 

I Think, Therefore I Ham

My brainpower astonishes me—I mean, I guess I can call it mine now. I haven’t got a bill yet, so I’m not sure what the payment plan is for a brain replacement during an abduction, but whatever make and model the aliens installed in my noggin is impressive. For instance, my new brain’s reservoir of profundity recently produced the following thought: “Hamburgers are made of beef, not ham. Therefore, hamburgers should be called beefburgers.” 

It’s rock-solid logic like that my old brain wasn’t capable of. Before the abduction, I rarely used logic or had profound thoughts. Now, however, it’s not uncommon for me to think existentially. Last night, right before I bit into a sandwich, I pronounced “I think, therefore I ham.” My in-laws, who happened to be dining with us, gave me a puzzled look (they’ve never had minds for philosophy), which then inspired a Socratic quote to well up: “I cannot teach anybody anything. I can only make them a ham sandwich.”  

“Please do,” my father-in-law said, “I’ll take another.” 

Admittedly, I never philosophized like that before the Unidentified Flying Object hitched its wagon to our chimney. Of course, you might ask, “How can you remember if the aliens gave you a new brain?” Apparently, it’s standard protocol to transfer over a few memories, kinda like transferring contacts to a new phone. Plus, seeing a UFO hovering over your house is rather memorable, especially a UFO pulling a wagon.

Come to think of it, the wagon may have been a livestock trailer. I vaguely recall oinks raining down from the heavens, though I kinda second-guess myself cause I doubt those aliens were big pork eaters. They were rather lanky and anemic-looking, so I have no idea what they might use pigs for.

All I know is I’m liking my newfound intelligence—oink, oink!