When you have a father who saves the world from Martian Invaders, you should feel pretty safe at night. Right?
Yeah, that's him on the phone. My dad, the Colonel.
I know it was just a movie. And it was a long time ago that we rode our bikes down to the local matinee and shelled out our fifty cents for the Saturday double feature. But to this day, every time I see sand, I can't help but think of "Invaders From Mars."
Occasionally, I catch myself searching the backs of stranger's necks to see if that little Martian device is protruding out. Crazy, I know.
But, seriously, have you ever been to Walmart?
Christie Biscuits, Part 1
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