Warning

Inside a patient’s room in the Central Psychiatric Unit, Colorado

Nurse 1: So, you found him last night?  Poor man.  At least he’s found peace at last.  He was always on the go – always wanting to tell us to be careful.  And all that stuff about hiding.  I’ll miss him.  He was a bit eccentric, wasn’t he?

Nurse 2: Yes. Do you think he was always like that?

Nurse 1: What do you mean?

Nurse 1: You know.  All creepy about hiding and that.  Aliens and stuff.

Nurse 2: No, he just liked all those StarWars films– probably from when he was a kid.  His brain didn’t function properly – it’s like he was confused...overloaded somehow.  That’s why he had the operation.  The doctors hoped it would help him with the seizures – not now, though.  He was harmless, but he did seem troubled, didn’t he?

Nurse 1: Yes, I felt uncomfortable with him – always felt he was watching me.  I wonder where he got the paracetamol from.  Three blister packs of 16 tablets.  Enough to kill anyone.

Nurse 2: Yes, well, his relatives used to come and see him.  They used to bring him stuff.

Nurse 1:  That’s strange.

Nurse 2: What is?

Nurse 1: He’s taken 12 tablets from each pack.  Oh well, I’ll just bag them up with the rest of his stuff.

Doctor:  Where’s the patient?

Nurse 1:  I’m afraid you’re too late.  Killed himself last night.

Doctor:  Oh no.  His scan results came through this morning.

Nurse 2: Yes?

Doctor: Where do I begin?  The operation to separate the two hemispheres of his brain went well and that should have stymied the epileptic seizures, but the scan...well, it’s very unusual.  The right side of his brain looks like that of a very old person – in fact, someone who’s been through the wars, really.

Nurse 1: Well, he was in his fifties and he wasn’t well; so you’d expect that, wouldn’t you?

Doctor:  No, not really.  The scan indicated severe tissue loss.  But what is unique in my experience is the left side of his brain.  I wanted to do the scan again, because it doesn’t look like brain tissue at all.  Here, I’ve got a scan.

Nurse 2:  That looks like the inside of a computer.  My Ian works with them – microchips or something.

Doctor:  Yes, I know what you mean with the regular layout, but the material is organic....life, you see.

Nurse 1:  Too late now.

Doctor:  Indeed!

A scrap of paper lay on the floor:

“Please listen to me.  They’re here.  You need to hide.  They’ve been planning this for years.  They’ve been here for 54 years.  I don’t know how long I’ll last.  I just want this pain to end. 

Yes, they arrived in 1958 when I was born.  There’s loads of them and- they’re planning the final takeover.  12.12.12. Those numbers – 12 is my lucky number.

The only way is for all of us to die.  All of us born in 1958.”

Note: This is not written by me but by a friend - @NorthernChap on Twitter.