ON A HOT FRIDAY IN MAY, AT 11:42 AM, EST, the heavens over Orlando, Florida opened with a glass shattering sonic boom and a gigantic alien ship slid out of the darkness of space. In a series of intense, albeit somewhat wobbly maneuvers, the ship pushed aside the fluffy white clouds over the Sunshine State and settled into a holding pattern in the sky just to the southwest of the city. The location was directly over Kartoon Land, one of the primary attractions of the state of Florida.
      The ship was dull gray, over a city block around, and fifteen to twenty stories tall. It had a ring of portholes along what seemed to be the middle, and a few flickering red and blue lights that alternated between on and off. The only sign of movement about the ship was an occasional puff of thick, jet-black smoke that was emitted from a series of openings that looked strangely like the exhaust pipes that are found on tractor trailer trucks.
     Now and then something fell from the ship, and after a close examination, it appeared that what was falling were dried kernels of corn. No one actually knew if it was corn or not, and no one was brave enough to test it, until a few grains fell onto a street vendor's hot grill and began popping.