The Virginian-Pilot
©
RIIING. RIIING.
"Hello?"
"Collect call from Area 51. Will you accept,"
"Uh, I suppose so."
"Hello, there!"
"Who is this, please?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. National security and all that. I was hoping you could do me a favor."
"Let me make sure I understand: You're calling me from Area 51, that top-secret military installation where they conduct alien autopsies?"
"Well, that's a rather narrow definition of our work, but yes, we're Aliens 'R Us. Now, about that favor."
"I'm listening."
"We're getting blamed for stuff that we had nothing to do with, and we'd like you to help set the record straight. We're afraid the bad publicity is going to cause problems for us in the next budget cycle."
"Go on."
"You're familiar with the recent troubles on the international space station?"
"As a matter of fact, I was just reading an AP story about it on my computer."
(Laughing.) "I know! Why do you think I called you, bub?"
"You can see what I'm reading?"
"We have a big bag o' tricks here at Area 51. By the way, you shouldn't spend so much time reading and re-reading stories about newspaper layoffs and the $3.5 billion sale of The Weather Channel. It's not good for you."
"I'm hanging up now."
"Wait! The space station, remember?"
"Please don't tell me Area 51 is involved in the space station."
"Directly, no. But, indirectly, yes. That's why I'm calling. So you've been reading about the little tiff between Russia, the United States and other countries about funding for the space station?"
"Yeah. It says here that everyone on board used to routinely share each other's food and exercise equipment and whatnot. It created a sense of teamwork and trust."
"Right. But then the bean-counters in the Russian space agency started billing other countries for what their astronauts used."
"And the U.S. and others responded by doing the same."
"Bad for morale, wasn't it?"
"Apparently. Cosmonaut Gennady Padalka said things have gotten so bad that everyone is now required to eat only their own food and use only their own exercise equipment."
"You left out something, sport."
"Oh, right. Padalka also said, 'They also recommend us to use national toilets.' "
" I'm afraid the situation got worse over the weekend."
"How so?"
"We're not sure who's responsible. Could have been the Russians. Could have been the Americans. We haven't ruled out the French."
"Responsible for what?"
"Pay toilets. Someone put coin boxes on all the national toilets."
"Rut-roh! I bet that went over well."
"The trouble with the head really came to a head early Sunday."
"What happened?"
"Well, Boris or Brad or Sven or Pierre or whoever floated out of his bunk that morning and went to the john to, you know, and - "
"Discovered a user fee."
"Well, he wasn't pleased. He ripped the toilet from the floor, opened a hatch and shot it into space."
"Seriously?"
"The stall and everything. Now, remember what happened late Sunday in the Hampton Roads area?"
"You don't mean - "
"Exactly. The boom? The flashes of light? The eyewitness accounts of seeing something about the size of a refrigerator flying by?"
"It was the loo from space?"
"Precisely! But who gets blamed? Area 51 and our hardworking affiliates, that's who. The conspiracy theorists won't accept the semi-official explanation that it was a meteorite. It was some sort of secret military jet, they say. It was an alien spaceship, they say. It's all a coverup, they say."
"So, you expect me to tell people it was a toitie from heaven?"
"Exactly. But you have to say the government is missing 'something' that someone in the space station 'dropped.' "
"Have you been snorting stardust, dude?"
"Look, we'll pay a hundred grand to whoever finds the wayward water closet and quietly returns it to the proper authorities."
"I don't think I can - "
"And, for your troubles, you can have whatever's in the coin box."
"I can't accept payment. But, you know, I wouldn't mind a tour of Area 51."
"Sure, sure. Drop by anytime. I gotta run now! Bye!"
"Wait! How do I get to Area 51?"
"Midtown Tunnel, of course. We'll take care of the rest."
Daryl Lease is an editorial writer for The Virginian-Pilot.
E-mail him at daryl.lease@pilotonline.com.

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Yawn. . .
I was laughing it up until I read chesapeakeguys comment. Then again, some people just don't like toilet humor.
Change occupations?
I think this writer is in the wrong line of work. I would suggest that he 'bottle' his columns and sell them as a cure for insomnia!
Why does this guy have a job? As an editorial writer no less! I thought that was suppose to mean something.