Encounters of the third kind
(…Interference noise growing louder…)
David Vincent believed invaders were among us and I’m afraid he was right!
They are here. They are queer. And they will abduct your friends. Sequestered away, they’ll get probed – if they’re lucky. And before you know it, they will be nothing but a distant memory. Much like David before me, I’m finding myself trying to convince a disbelieving world before it’s too late… or is it already too late? (Creepy space music playing)
I’ve encountered the first one just a few months ago. Initially, unaware of the danger, I shook the man’s hand. He – who should remain nameless – had just started dating my good friend Juan. He introduced himself and then fell silent as though articulating his two-syllable name had drained his energy. We drank beers, well, I drank beer. Glued to the hip, lost in each other’s gaze, they had forgotten to order. I grew suspicious. Not paying any attention to me or the friends that had just joined us; they withered into a corner, hip against hip, like a four-legged creature frightened of the light.
A beer led to another one and a bar to the next. They followed us to our next destination, walking hand in hand, oblivious to the world surrounding them; He – a monstrous invader from outer space - kept sticking his tongue – was it even a tongue? - down my friend’s mouth as if searching for something (the sound of a reptile hissing).
Having refused to enter the second bar, they stood outside, seemingly content in the cold and rain. They claimed they would wait for us there. I have never seen my friend since. All I recall is his lover’s claws clutching him.
Juan hasn’t answered any of our texts since. His phone is always switched off and if that wasn’t enough to worry us, he hasn’t updated his Facebook status in over a month! IN OVER A MONTH! I’m afraid to say so but: Juan is lost. It has been taken by a race of evildoers, hiding in the aisles of H&M ready to strike. A race I have named: the Cancer Boyfriends. A race of vile, needy, all-powerful, desperate queens whose sole purpose in life is to lock their pray away, luring them under a comfy blanket to spend a quiet night in. A never-ending quiet night in (sound of thunder)! Once caught, the poor soul has no way of ever escaping the grasp of their abductor. There is no turning back.
We’re not safe. I repeat: we are NOT safe! They’re everywhere! Do not be fooled, even the straight ones among you are at risk! They can take whatever form they wish. They will pray for the weak. They will stop at nothing! Cancer boyfriends are a disease. A disease that anyone can catch. And once you’ve caught it, there is no turning back: weeks, months, even years can be lost. Years of not seeing your loved ones. Years of TV reruns and takeaway candle dinners (woman screaming in the distance).
Check out their pinkies! I beg of you. If you see a stiff pinky: run, just run… (white noise slowly fading away)
