Crash

Mr. Sanders was an irritable man. He was tall and just on the verge of old age, with dark brown hair that had a few streaks of grey.

One day Mr. Sanders had to go to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for a special dinner he was thinking of making for himself. The grocery store he normally went to was just about a mile away, but he knew for a fact that it wouldn't have the items that he needed. Mr. Sanders prided himself for being an excellent cook, and refused to use anything but the best for his meals. He looked online, and decided on a grocery store that was about thirty minutes or so from his house.

Mr. Sanders got in his new black car and started the drive. After a time he came to a forest. He kept driving, carefully avoiding looking at the beautiful fall trees and colors around him, and instead staring straight ahead.

Suddenly, to Mr. Sander's great surprize, a deer jumped out of the forest and onto the road. It froze in Mr. Sanders' headlights, while Mr. Sanders tried frantically to avoid it.

He struck the deer. The impact startled him. His airbags did not deploy; he had not hit the creature hard enough for that.

After sitting in shock for a few seconds, Mr. Sanders got out of his new black car, the door screeching where it was dented. The deer he had hit had limped off into the forest already, and could not be found. Mr. Sanders walked slowly to the front of his car. The entire hood had caved in. He was certain that this amount of damage would cause an unbelievable expense to him when he got it fixed.

"Augh! Dumb animal!" screamed a frustrated and angry Mr. Sanders. He tried to see if he could still drive his car, but little pieces of it kept falling off, so he pulled over to the side of the road and parked. He had traveled less than halfway to his grocery store when he had hit the deer, and there was still a long ways to go before he would reach it. He checked to see if he could call anyone to come and help him, but soon realized that he had left his cell phone on the kitchen table at home. Then, suddenly, he remembered that just through this forest there was a small town. He figured if he could walk to the town, he might be able to find someone to help him out, or at least a phone to call a tow truck. The problem was, he didn't know which direction the town was in. This problem was solved as he rifled through his car until he found the map of the area that he had stored in his glove compartment. According to it, if he walked directly to his right for about three miles he would walk straight into the town. He put the map back into his sad, damaged car and started walking.

After a while, Mr. Sanders realized he was walking on what appeared to be a jagged deer path. Thinking of deer made him angry again. He kicked a tree in frustration, then staggered back and kept walking, limping slightly.

About a half an hour later, Mr. Sanders jerked his head up. He could have sworn he had heard buzzing a second ago, like a bee, and yet somehow dreamlike, as a thought or idea would sound. Except he hadn't been thinking about bees, and he certainly hadn't tried to imagine their noises. He stared into the forest for a moment, then shrugged it off, thinking he was hearing things. A few minutes later, the buzzing started again, and this time seemed much more concrete. It continued its noise while Mr. Sanders scanned the area for its source. He couldn't see anything that could possibly be making such a sound until, seemingly out of thin air, a large metallic shape with flashing multicolored lights around its base appeared in the forest about thirty feet ahead of him. It was rushing straight towards him, and Mr. Sanders froze, unable to move. Then everything went black.

"Augh! Dumb animal!" screamed a frustrated and angry Zarton-Flebeulum. "It completely destroyed my partangular boosters!" it said, then pushed the ship back to the speed of light and sped away, evidently to an alien repair shop.