Please remember that this is just a bit of fun.
Anyway - this first one has been done to death, but here goes anyway. I hope you enjoy it!
Giant spaceships have settled above every major city in America. Oh and a couple of others around the world too.
A genious technician is sitting in a park playing chess with his stereotype Jewish father.
Stereotype Jewish father: (to genious son) Make a move. Yeesh! Come on already.
Genious Technician son: I'm... Taking... My... Time...
Stereotype Jewish father: Come on. Yeesh!
Genious technician son: Check mate. Bye.
The Genious technician son leaves on his bicycle as he wants to save the planet by being all 'green'. He get's to his office and switches on his ten computers, monitors and array of gadgets and gizmos.
Annoying voiced gay stereotype: David. Where have you BEEN?
Genious technician: Erm, on.. my.. lunch.
Annoying voiced gay stereotype: All our satellite feeds are rubbish. All our TV pictures are all fuzzy. Oh and we can't figure it out.
Genious technician: They've embedded a signal in our satellite feed. Those aliens.
Annoying voiced gay stereotype: You worked that out fast.
Genious technician: Yeah, for some reason these aliens don't have their own communication system. Weird. Anyway, it's counting down and in around seven hours they'll zap us.
Annoying voiced gay stereotype: And then WHAT?
Genious technician son: We'll be dead
Annoying voiced gay stereotype: And then WHAT?
Genious technician son: Well we won't have to put up with your ridiculous voice anymore. Annoying voiced gay stereotype: Well I'd better call my lawyer in an attempt at comic relief.
Stupid civilians take to the roof tops of any skyscraper they can. For some reason none of them have been locked.
Stupid civilian 1: My god I hope they bring back Elvis!
Stupid civilian 2: They abused me sexually. It was great.
Stupid civilian 1: Oh...
The genious tecnician makes his way to Washington with his father. The president must be warned!
President: You! How did you get in here. We're in a state of maximum emergency!
Genious technician: Well I triangulated my ex-wifes position in the White House, she let me in then the secret service let me walk right into the oval office.
President: I see. Anyway - I don't have time for this, we are a little busy. And who is this old guy with you?
Genious technician: Oh that's my stereotype Jewish father.
President: Hello sir. But we don't have time for this!
Genious technician's ex wife: Listen to him! He's found something that no-one else in the whole world with million dollar equipment has found!
Genious technician: Yes. The aliens have embedded a signal in our satellites to co-ordinate an attack.
President: Why? Can't they use their own communications devices? What if we didn't have satellites?
Genious technician: Weeell, I wouldn't have stumbled upon it otherwise. Anyway, look at my Mac laptop. They are moving into position.
LONG DRAMATIC PAUSE......
And the clock is ticking!
A helicoper equiped with flashing lights that make a cool 'whooshing' noise approaches one of the behemoth saucers. They begin a sequence of flashes at the saucer in an attempt to communicate.
Dispensable pilot: Welcome wagon is in position. Beginning sequence.
Radio: Withdraw - that's an order.
The dispensable pilot ignores the instructions and keeps up the light show. Slowly a hatch opens (menacingly) and bright greenish light bathes the copter.
Dispensable pilot: This could be some kind of response.
Suddenly some 1950's style lazer bolts shoot from the saucer blowing the helicopter into tiny fragments.
Meanwhile, back at the White House...
President: Okay - let's evacuate. Everyone on board air-force one!
So the president, some secret service dudes, a whiny secretary of defence, a gruff grumpy general, the genious technician (and his ex wife president aide) and his father climb aboard air force one.
Stereotype Jewish father: We have our own phone. Nice.
The Mac laptop countdown reaches ZERO
A few seconds later...
Genious technician: Check-mate
A blatantly obvious model of air force one streaks along a toy runway whilst the alien saucer opens its bottom hatch and fires its primary weapon.The bright green lazer beam destroys the White House with ease and somehow spreads a fireball all across the city. Model Air force one makes it out just in time. Millions of people in Washington are vapourised by the lazer shooting fireball type weapon.
All of the morons on top of skyscrapers across the land are killed too as each saucer unleashes it's WMD.
News soon filters through about the devastation. Millions are already dead and this is just the beginning!
The war hero president orders a counter attack.
El Tora base. A generic general is briefing a group of pilots giving details of the target and it's location. Like a kid's classroom two pilots at the back of the room are not paying full attention.
Generic general: Something you want to add to this briefing Captain?
Wisecracking pilot: I'm just a little anxious to get up there and wup ET's easss!
Generic general: You'll get your chance. You'll all get your chance.
Annoying pilot: Let's kick the tyres and light the fires!
Generic general: I'm enjoying you're gung ho attitude towards this. It's not as if millions of people have been killed or anything.
Meanwhile, back in the city...
The wisecracking pilot's girlfriend (who is a stripper) is attempting to leave the city with their little boy and dog. Unfortunately they are trapped in a tunnel which is backed up with traffic.She spies the giant fireball from the alien saucer moving towards them in the rear view mirror of her car. Thinking quickly she grabs the little boy and runs into a utility cupboard as the fireball with the desctructive properties of an atomic bomb moves closer.
The dog jumps in with barely a nano-second to spare without even singeing it's arse. A raging firestorm that decimates trucks and entire buildings does not enter an open doorway. Nor does it burn away all the oxygen. Anyway, the stripper, boy and dog all survive.
Meanwhile, back at El Toro...The brave pilots launch and head towards the giant ship.
Annoying pilot: Hey big daddy, let's kick the tyres and light the fires!
Wisecracking pilot: No big speech about us - the Black Knights?
Annoying pilot: The good reverand said, that the Black Knights will kick the tyres and light the fires!
The squadron soon approach the giant saucer. The massive ship hangs menacingly in the air. Each pilot locks on an air-to-air missile that would do very little damage to such a large ship. They each fire and the missiles stream towards their target. Meanwhile the president watches as some unknown feed shows him the position of each missile on a screen as they home in on the giant saucer.At the last second, each missile detonates harmlessly in mid-air.
Wisecracking pilot: Aww HELL no! Switching to side-winders, moving in.
Each pilot locks on a lightweight sidewinder missile and again they are unleashed.Once again the missiles streak towards their target, and once again they detonate before hitting the hull of the spacecraft. The president is shown a nice little animation of each missile detonating on an invisible line.
Wisecracking pilot: Aww HELL NO! They've got some sort of protective shield. Knights, pull up!
The pilots pull up as hundreds of alien fighters spew forth from the mothership.
One pilot that we don't care about has the usual flight stick-stuck problem, and crashes into the invisisble sheild. His plane is engulfed in flames.
The alien fighters make short work of the squadron - even they have sheilds too! Pretty soon only the wisecracker and the annoying pilot remain.
Wisecracking pilot: Okay - let's see if we can outtrun 'em
Annoying pilot: Let's kick the tyres and light the fires!
Instead of the whole alien squadron chasing down the remaining F-18's only two fly in pursuit. The rest fly back inside the giant saucer ship.
Wisecracking pilot: Come on we gotta push it we gotta go! Woo HOO!
Annoying pilot: Why are you whupping and cheering after your whole squadron was wiped out in a matter of minutes?
Wisecracking pilot: Eh?
Annoying pilot: Oh sorry, I meant let's kick the tyres and..
Wisecracking pilot: Shut the hell up!
The alien fighters gain on the F-18'sThe annoying pilot panics and tries to bank at high speed.
Wisecracking pilot: Whaddaya doin'? You can't bank like that at this speed!
Annoying pilot: Let's kick the...
He explodes in a fireball. We all heave a huge sigh of relief. The alien fighter returns to the giant saucer instead of helping to destroy the wisecracking pilot. The remaining alien fighter is suddenly a poor shot as it chases down the remaining F-18 which is now flying in video game mode. Suddenly they appear to be flying through the Grand Canyon pulling areobatic stunts.
The wisecracking pilot outwits the alien and it's thousand-year-more-advanced-than-us fighter by deploying a newly invented F-18 parachute onto it whilst flying. The alien fighter crash lands just as our wise-cracker ejects to safety.
The wisecracking pilot lands and removes his parachute and approaches the downed alien craft just as the occupant emerges. Our wisecracker knocks out the alien with a single well aimed punch to the head. Except it's really the aliens outer bio-mechanical suit, but we don't know that yet.
Wisecracking pilot: Welcome to Earth!
Still hitting out with witty quips he follows up with: Now that's what I call a close encounter!
Our wisecracking pilot drags the unconscious alien across the salt flats via his parachute. A convoy of refugees looking for safe haven stop and pick him up. He tells them of a base he 'saw' whilst flying overhead - even though he was pulling impossible manouvers and being chased by a being from another world at the time.
Anyway, after a while travelling they happen across the gateway to Area 51 and for some reason having a parachute gift-wrapped unconscious alien gives you and 1000 civilians clearance to a top secret facility. They arrive at Area 51, where the president and the genious technician and his father and the snivelling guy and the grumpy general have already arrived.
President: Why was I not told about this place? How do you get funding for something like this? I bet all this gear is expensive!
Sniveller: Two words Mr President. F**k you!
President: I'm sorry, I was distracted by Adam Baldwin's forehead. Come again?
Sniveller: I said, two words Mr President, plausable deniability.
They are greeted by a sterotype nerdy professor.
President: Hey it's DATA out of Star Trek!
Dr Okun: Ha h h ha. The resemblence is uncaanny. My name is Dr Okun. They don't let us out much you know. We've got a space ship from fifty years ago. Ha ha.
President: So you knew about this? All these years?
Sniveller: Two words Mr President...
Grumpy General: Shut up! You knew about this and you didn't tell us? My god...
Sniveller: It was deemed classified.
Grumpy General: You could have told us that before it cost us the American lives of hundreds of American pilots! Not to mention the American aircraft and American dollars! My god...
Sniveller: There was no way to know that our fighters would be so ineffective against their attackers.
Dr Okun takes them to 'the vault' to see dead otherworld creatures which are being kept preserved in tubes like they used in Aliens around ten years earlier.
Dr Okun: We've come to call this the FREAK SHOW! Tee hee hee hee. Hee he heeee. Ha ha haaa. Ha HA hAAAA!
Grumpy General: Just let us see them! My god...
Genious technician: I haven't spoke for a while.
President: Do you know anything about them?
Dr Okun: Oh yeah. Yeah yeah yeah. We know a heck of a lot about them. Yeah.
President: Okaaay. Any chance you could tell us then?
Dr okun: Well, they breathe oxygen like us. Comparable tolerances to heat and cold. Probably why they are interested in our planet. It's just getting through their technology, which I'm sorry to say, is waaay more advanced.
He continues...
When we found them they were wearing bio-mechanical suits. Once we got them off, we were able to learn a great deal about their anatomy; eyes, ears, bipolar digestive system... no vocal chords though. We're assuming they communicate with each other through other means.
Genious technician: What kind of other means? Hand signals, body language?
Dr Okun: Some kind of extra sensory perception. Telepathy.
President: You unlocked a part of that technology. You cracked their code.
Genious technician: All I did was stumble onto their signal. I don't know how helpful I can be...
President: Show them what you've discovered. Work together. We've got to find a way to beat them. I reckon most of these Area 51 folk are a bit thick anyway.
So, Area 51 has three dead aliens and a patched up alien fighter. Not bad.
Dr Okun: We learned a great deal about the fighter, but we could never duplicate the power source. We've never been able to experiment until the last 24 hours. Since world-wide annihilation begun things have gotten very exciting round here!
Suddenly a laboratory technician runs into the room.
Random lab tech: They got one alive!
Everyone runs outside as the wisecracking pilot drags in the gift-wrapped alien into Area 51.
Dr Okun: Quick, get it into containment. Remember these baby's are dangerous and can control us via there telepathy. Because of this we'll have no armed guards present while we remove the bio-mechanical suit.
A handful of doctors begin to remove the bio-mechanical suit in a sealed room just as the alien wakes up. It makes short work of the doctors killing them all with ease. The room is eerily filled with smoke as the president and the grumpy general (accompanied by some secret service guys) walk into the adjacent room to observe.
Grumpy general: My god...
Dr Okun is thrown against the glass
Dr Okun: (in a whispery voice with tentacles round his throat) Release me...
Agent: Awright, get him outta there!
President: Wait....
Dr Okun: Release me...
They realise that the alien is 'speaking' through Dr Okun.
President: Why did you come here?
Alien Okun: Isn't it obvious? To kick your asses of course. In fact, what we do is move from planet to planet, consuming all the resources. Once we've stripped it bare we simply move on to the next. So basically your planet is up for extermination. Hell, by the time we're finished with it there won't be anything left!
President: What do you want us to do?
Alien Okun: Die. DIE! There can be no peace between us! No. Peace. Don't you get it? We're going to kill every living thing here and eat it. We'll drink all the water, refuel our ships then move on. Easy.
Grumpy general: My god...
President: Well this thing has revealed all of their plans to us. We may as well just kill it.
Alien Okun: No,... Release. Me.
The secret service guys pull out their pistols and blow the alien away. It screams in pain as the bullets rip into it.
Genious Technician: Hey, that geeky doctor said they didn't have vocal chords! What a lying bast*rd!
President: Let's nuke em.
A stealth bomber flies towards the giant saucer which is hovering over the remains of Houston. Instead of launching the nuclear cruise missle from miles away it waits until it is only a couple of kilometres away from the craft before deploying. The missile hits, the stealth bomber is no doubt engulfed by the blast, and it turns out those pesky alien shields can even withstand a nuclear detonation...
Whilst this futile attack is going on, the wisecracking pilot steals a helicopter and flies back to the now destroyed El Toro base to find his wife. By some miracle he lands exactly where she is sitting - underneath a palm tree which can withstand a ten mile wide fireball. The first lady is also there, along with a few other random survivors. They all fly merrily back to Area 51.
Back at Area 51...
The genious technician is not happy. He is kicking over art department bins and random barrels in the most unconvincing display of drunkeness ever.
Stereotype Jewish father: What the hell are you doing!?
Genious technician: I'm making a mess. They're gonna waste the whole planet!
Stereotype Jewish father: This I can see!
Genious technician: We've gotta burn the rain forest, Pops. Dump toxic waste, pollute the air, rip up the ozone. Maybe if we screw this planet up enough they won't want it anymore.
In a final rant the genious technician falls to the ground beaten.
Stereotype Jewish father: Get up before you catch a cold.
Genious technician: You're a genious!
Stereotype Jewish father: I try not to fly in the face of public opinion. What?
Genious technician: A cold! Of course! Ahh, ahhh. How could I have not thought of this earlier?
He wakes everyone up and is suddenly totally sober. Apparently drinking almost a full bottle of Jack doesn't get you THAT drunk.
The next morning everyone assembles in the hangar area.
Genious Technician: Even though I was got toally whammed last night I wrote a computer virus to disable the alien shields in a matter of hours.
Grumpy general: My god...
Genious Technician: Oh yeah. I mean I knocked together a quick program which would normally take at least a few days to create to hack into a system on Earth. Anyway, what I have done will infiltrate their system and shut their shields down. It's pretty neat.
President: So how do you hook into their system? Firewire? Infra-red?
Genious Technician: No no. All I have to do is use my Mac laptop and it will 'negotiate' with the host machine for me. It'll only take a few seconds to get in.
President: Surely the alien system will be too secure? Do they not have some sort of alien firewall? What about passwords?
Genious Technician: No
President: Cool.
Genious Technician: We can disable the shields for a few minutes. We'll fly that archaic alien fighter from fifty years ago into the massive ship that's in orbit. Once we fly in they won't think a ship that vanished fifty years ago is in any way suspicious. Then I'll upload the virus, drop a nuke and be back here in time for cornflakes. Whilst I do that you can do your thing, do you stuff, do what you do best, fly into the wild blue yonder, you know...
President: Take em down?
Genious Technician: Yeah.
Sniveller: I've never heard so much crap in my life! (for once we agree with him). We don't have the manpower for this, or the resources. you want us to co-ordinate a world-wide attack with a window of only a few minutes. We don't even know if that thing will fly! We don't even have anyone to fly it! And it's far too cold in here - someone crank up the thermo will ya!
Wisecracking pilot: I wouldn't say that sir! I've seen them wipe out my entire squadron which doesn't bother me at all. Therefore I am more than aware of their capabilities and how to operate one expertly.
Grumpy General. My god... That's settled then. Grab your Mac laptop and climb aboard. The fresh prince will fly you there.
President: Ok - inform the rest of the less than capable world what the plan is. Use morse-code, the aliens will not be able to decipher it even though they've been coming here for at least fifty years to study us.
So - the rest of the world is informed of the grand plan...
In the desert somewhere...Two members of the RAF are inside a tent hunched over a map. An Arab pilot comes in shouting excitedly.
Snooty stereotype Brit 1: What the devil is he on about?
Snooty stereotype Brit 2: We're getting a signal. Morse code!
They make their way to the morse code machine...
Snooty stereotype Brit 1: What's going on?
Snooty stereotype Brit 2: It's from the Americans! They want to launch a counter offensive!Snooty stereotype Brit 1: Well it's about bloody time, but not right now it's time for tea and scones.
Snooty stereotype Brit 2: Oh yes of course. Get the kettle on
All around the world pilots launch in their remaining planes in a last valiant attempt against the evil aliens. At no point do members of the regular army or naval forces join in.
Meanwhile, the wisecracking pilot and the genious technician are flying in the patched up space ship towards the main mothership. According to plan, the alien ship is guided in by maybe a tractor beam and comes to rest in a giant clamp right opposite the main administration centre for the whole fleet.There doesn't seem to be any way of getting from the fighter into the mothership - they just hang there.
Wisecracker: Whatcha doin'?
Genious Technician: Booting up... Right, I've just got to execute this little program... Now negotiating with host... We're in!
Wisecracker: Okay. Now we let the guys back on Earth know by some unseen method.
Genious Technician: It's okay, my Mac laptop will do it.
Grumpy general: My god... the package has been delivered! Mr President! Mr President? Where the hell is he?
Sniveller: He took to the air in an F-18. He's a pilot and belongs in the air.
Grumpy general: Oh, that's okay then. My god...
Fighter jets approach the alien saucers, led by the President of the USA!
President: Eagle eye, fox trot alpha, beta and gamma, firing!
The missile streams towards it's target and detonates harmlessly on the gaint ships shields. Everyone is a little depressed by this.
President: Wait... I want another shot at it. Eagles claw, fox 1, firing!
The missile streams towards it's target and explodes on the hull of the ship causing minimal damage. The shields are down.
Every pilot commences firing and each missile hits. The aliens unleash their fighters to take down the earth forces but for some reason don't use their on board lasers that blew the welcome wagon helicopters out of the sky with ease.
Meanwhile on the other side of the world...
Snooty stereotype Brit 1: Approaching giant saucer now. Engage on my signal (takes a sip of tea from his onboard china mug).
They fire of a volley of missiles, each one hitting the giant ship!
Snooty stereotype Brit 1: Good golly! It's a hit!
He takes another sip of tea and bite from a cream scone. Suddenly an alien attacker shoots at him, causing him to spill his tea as he performs evasive manouvers.
Snooty stereotype Brit 1: What the blazes? It's afternoon tea! No-one shoots at Reginald Foxworth Smythe! Especially not that green sh*t!
He unleashes a volley of cannon fire and the alien attacker explodes into smithereens. With the grace of Biggles and Chuck Yeager combined, he throws his Tornado jet into a display of aerobatics that confounds the invaders. He takes five more out in the next minute.
Snooty stereotype Brit 1: Take that you scoundrels!
Back in America...
President: We're out of missiles. It's lucky that those alien fighters are suddenly really crap at shooting.
Suddenly a drunk guy flying an old bi-plane shows up.
Drunk guy: What the hell's goin' on here?
President: Pilot - identify yourself.
Drunk guy: Randy Quaid sir! I'm the only one here not taking this seriously - and I'm steamin' drunk!
President: Well, get outta here, we're in the middle of the largest ariel battle that mankind has ever seen. MANKIND!
Drunk guy: Ok, but I'm so drunk I don't know how to navigate.
The drunk pilot stupidley/heroically flies his plane right into the giant ships giant laser/fireball combo weapon which causes a resonance cascade feedback loop blowing up the whole thing.
President: That drunken son-of-a-bitch did it! And a 15 mile wide trillion ton space ship hitting the ground will not cause an earthquake either.
President: (to grumpy general) Get on the horn, spread the word to the rest of the not-as-smart-as-us world.
Grumpy general: Tell the rest of the world how to bring those aliens down. My god...
All around the world the alien ships are brought down. At no point do the aliens think to close the doors to their primary weapon and wait until their shields come back online. We win and stereotypes from lots of countries are shown celebrating over the downed alien ships.
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