After witnessing the light of dawn for the 453rd time, Pig speared the energized reverberating alarm into the cocoons of soil which contained the other hibernating Gaseous apparitions. Awakening mopishly, the four Elvises and ‘Moses’ stretched their cramped humanlike frames to the point that you could hear their bones crack over the next hill. Like a drenched pack of canines, they shook the sticky dirt off of their sequined attire and ornamental toga, then gazed at the suns’ elliptical outline shining above the hilly horizon, spreading its’ brilliant rays all over the God-given earth below. Like a million candle-watt powered searchlight shining onto a mirrored disco-dance ball, the intensity of the light reflecting off of the multi-sequined suits of the Elvis Gods was so amplifiably spectacular that the Lord himself would be proud. ‘Moses’ sort of shook the dust off of his feet, looked into the illuminata and casually quipped’ “I’ve seen some supernovas that would’ve put this mess to shame!” A couple of the Gods rolled their newly-equipped eyes.
     Milton, the one farmer out plowing his field of seasoned cucumbers, noted as he looked over his tilled expanse of farmland past the crest of the hummock that the aliens were illuminating from in a holocaustic manner around six miles away, “Dagnabbit, Ethyl Mae…looks like the surplus train carrying that there you-ranium 238 back to the Army base derailed, again! Better git Grandmawmaw out of the corn silo, git our new radiation suits on out of the storage shed before her other eye melts down.”
     His wife, Ethyl Mae, who was walking behind the tractor started rubbing some of the dust out of her eyes and chortled, “Milty? Does that mean we gonna have more ‘glow cow’ fo’ dinner t’night?”
     “Hush up, woman! We gotta hurry an’ git our fertile asses outta here!” On that reply, Milton scurried over to his herd of donkeys, opened the steel gate and commanded, “On Dasher…on Dancer, Prancer and Vixen. On Comet and Cupid…Donner and Blitzen. And finally, my little shining star…ON RANDOLPH! Awayyyyyyyyyyyy!”
     In unison, the asses formed a parallel line and started marching out of the gate, with Randolph bringing up the rear, ‘Hee-Hawing’ all the way…
     Forming a spontaneous meeting to formulate their agendas and destinations, it was decided that one of the Gaseous Energy Gods would return to their craft (now known as ‘’, which had been picked up accidentally on Pig’s ‘G.L.I.B.’ one lazy afternoon when he had decided to play around with the contraption’s compass signals in the coordinates of Silicon Valley), orbit the Earth at a constant radius, monitor the other activities and maintain any malfunctions that could occur. Three more of the Elvises could explore more populated regions of the planet, report their findings and restore any fabrications existing in their neonatal environment. One of the Gods would actually congregate with the planet’s species; learning their behavioral patterns, religious practices and other nuances. In this manner, it would be advantageous in deciphering any weaknesses and strengths of their class. Leaving Gas Pig, who was suitably adaptable to study the rural realm of the planet and pursue any conspicuous individual or occurrence that would be of interest to their laboratory data retrieval systems. In their own inconclusive manner, each of the Gaseous Energy Gods bid farewell, leaving a little of their own gas behind to remember the times that they had been united since ‘gashood’ and to celebrate their extraordinary new adventures.
     Pig grunted proudly, “Good luck to all…a toast…”
(Sniff-sniff…) “Petunia? Is that you, again?”
End: Chap. 3