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Why should I call them dreams when I know they're true? At night, when I sleep, the images of our impending harvest are clearer. The aliens come in huge, shimmering ships, like two industrial cooking woks slapped together. These ships come upon us in the thousands. Buildings will be destroyed, families will be torn apart, humans will be categorized according to how they appear to taste. I recommend wearing baggy clothes when the aliens land; it will confuse them severely.
I almost forgot! The headwear! Even though they are green, withered, and have three legs, the most notable difference between aliens and us are the ridges on their heads. It stands to reason that aliens won't be harvesting any of their own kind, which is why I wear this cadillac toessel. The third leg I'll have to figure out when the time comes.
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