The Y-files
Copyright (c) by Rick Yost

The Trash Is Out There
(Announcer: "We now join our program already in progress.")

The scene is a warm night in a dark alley on the run-down and dangerous side of town. FBI agents Mildew and Skanky are nearing the end of an episode-long search for the alien that’s been terrorizing the city. As they cautiously walk deep into the alley, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, agent Skanky’s cell phone rings. She answers in a whisper, “Skanky here.”
She continues in-step behind her partner into the abyss as she speaks, “Oh, hello boss. Where am I, you ask. Agent Mildew and I are walking down a dark alley. We’re looking for whatever’s been slobbering all over people for most of tonight’s show.”
The determined and edgy agent Mildew walks ahead carefully searching for his prey. He suddenly stops and raises his hand signaling to Skanky that he’s either seen something, heard something or is just trying to remember his lines.
He says in a low voice, “It’s in here somewhere Skanky, I think we’re about to end this.” Skanky curtly replies, “Well of course we are, stupid, the show’s almost over.”
She returns to the phone call, “What’s that? What am I doing? I’ve been asking myself that same thing for years now. You know, I worked long and hard to become a Doctor! By now I should have my own practice. I could be holding some cute guy’s testicles in my hand right now, asking him to turn his head and cough; but nooo! I’m waving a freakin’ flashlight around in the dark, watching this idiot partner of mine get his ‘ya-ya’s’ out looking for little green men.”
Suddenly, from the shadows appears a seven-foot, slime-covered, blob-like monster. With one swift move it scoops Skanky up in its six-foot-wide mouth and attempts to swallow her whole.
“Mildew!” She screams. Mildew turns to see his partner’s head and shoulders protruding from the creature’s lips. The monster, which apparently has no eyes, casually leans back against the wall and rolls Skanky’s body around in its mouth like a kid with a jawbreaker.
Mildew pulls out his weapon and fires four rounds into the belly of the creature with no effect. Skanky yells at him, “Mildew, what the hell are you trying to do, kill me? I’m inside here!” She seems more irritated than frightened or in pain.
Mildew says, “Well what do you want me to do? You’re being eaten alive!” He has his usual male angst, confusion mixed with sensitivity look on his face.
“Oh come on Mildew.” She says like an adult talking down to a child. “If this creature were from another world would it come all this way just to stand in this alley and munch on me? There has to be a logical explanation for what’s happening here.” As she speaks she tries her best to pry herself from the slimy lips of the monster.
Mildew now stands in front of Skanky and the monster. With his best incredulous look he says, “Well aren’t you in pain? Isn’t this thing grinding your bones?”
Skanky stops struggling, brushes her bangs from her eyes, glances at the camera, then gives Mildew a disgusted look and says, “No it’s not. This, whatever this is, doesn’t have any teeth. It’s just rolling my ass and legs around in its mouth. It’s running its hot, slimy tongue all over my thighs and basically sucking on my body like a Tootsie Pop.” Then she closes her eyes. “Mildew, you’d better get me out of this thing. I’m starting to enjoy this more than I should.” She leans back and gently bites her lower lip.
Mildew, recognizing the newly heightened danger of the situation, grabs hold of her arms and places his foot on the front of the monster’s body. With a wet ‘smack’ he pulls her free from the creature and they fall to the pavement. The monster stands there with its lips turned down in a pout.
As they stand up, brushing the dirt and muck off themselves, Mildew asks, “Are you okay?” She answers, “Well, yeah, except for being half naked.” Now wearing only her blouse and pantyhose she says, “I’ve not only lost my phone, but now my shoes and skirt are inside that thing.”
They watch as the blob licks it’s huge lips and smiles. Skanky adds, “And now after what that thing just did to me, sex with a man, will just not be the same. Daaamn!”
Suddenly, from the entrance to the alley, approach a dozen marching, army soldiers. They file in between our heroes and the creature. Armed with automatic weapons, flamethrowers, and rocket launchers, they take aim at the monster. One of the soldiers speaks, “Stand back agents, we’ll handle this!” and before Mildew or Skanky can protest, the soldiers fire their weapons at the creature. After a few deafening moments, there’s nothing left but burnt alien flesh, splattered all over the alley.
Marching back out of the alley the soldiers smile proudly and salute the two agents; their duty fulfilled successfully.
Mildew waves his hand in the air trying to see through the smoke and says, “Yuuuck!” Skanky has a sad look on her face as she says, “My shoes!”

As red flashing lights strobe the darkness, government agents and local law enforcement hold curious locals and the media at a safe distance. Leaning against their ooze splattered rental car, Skanky stares at the ground and laments, “That was a brand new phone.”
Mildew looks at the other agents around them and says to Skanky, “We should go. I think you’re sexy in pantyhose, but everyone’s staring.” Suddenly self-conscious, she tugs on the bottom of her blouse and gets in the car.
As they prepare to leave, the cleanup crew arrives. Mildew marvels at the precision of the system in which he works. “Who is it that calls these guys? And where do you find them? Do you thumb through the Government listings in the Yellow Pages for, ‘Alien road-kill’ removal?”
He and Skanky watch the big, white, panel truck with rear-mounted flood lights slowly back into the alley and up to what’s left of the alien corpse. As the truck moves in reverse, instead of the usual “beep, beep” back-up warning; we hear the familiar five note tune from Spielberg’s “Close Encounters”.
There is a “Keep On Truckin’” sticker in the truck window and a sign on the door in official lettering that reads:

Biological &
Inter-galactic,
Toxic
Contaminants,
Hazard
Elimination and
Sanitation

Skanky sits in the passenger seat, wiping ooze from her hands with a tissue as Mildew says, “Man, how would you like to have that job?” He stares in morbid fascination at the truck and the mess to be cleaned up.
Having no more patience for his boyish sense of wonder, she rolls her eyes and says, “Mildew, I just want to go back to the hotel and take a hot bath. Can we go?”
Mildew starts the car and continues his train of thought, “How would you like to work for an agency with the acronym, ‘BITCHES’?” He laughs, “Don’t you think that’s funny?” He continues to chuckle. “I mean, what’s it like to go to work knowing you’re thought of as a bitch?” He says, then looks at Skanky and says, “Oops! Sorry!”
She thinks for a second, then fires an angry glare at him, “Just what the hell does that mean?”
Continuing their conversation, they drive on down the street and out of frame. Fade to black. Roll credits.

Meanwhile back in the alley, the show might be over, but the work is not. The world may be safe again until next week, but there’s still the mess.
Now the un-sung heroes of Science Fiction go to work. These are the guys who follow behind the stars of Hollywood’s TV shows like the X-files and movies like Men In Black, cleaning up alien remains.

Two men wearing bright orange biohazard suits with gloves, hoods, face masks and respirators, step out of the truck. They open the rear doors to reveal an array of shovels, hoses, scrapers, brooms, mops, buckets and gallon jugs of industrial cleaners and disinfectants. Hanging by a string from the top of the door opening is a round, yellow, ‘happy-face’ air-freshener with almond shaped, alien eyes.
While half-dozen government agents get paid overtime to lean and watch, these two brave men shovel the grizzly remains of the creature into fifty-five gallon barrels. What they can’t scrape off the brick walls is removed with a high-pressure sprayer. After the mess is cleaned up, the entire area is sprayed with Lysol.
Finished with their distasteful chore, they load up three barrels of alien muck. They climb back into their air-conditioned vehicle, crank up the Frank Zappa CD, pass a fat, burning joint between them and head for the City Dump.