Matthew F. Amati

The Things were approaching. The Things looked vaguely human, in that they had ears, eyes, and elbows. They were decidedly inhuman in the way they drooled and shuffled and announced in stentorian tones their intention to eat people. We were not fans of the Things, but we were outnumbered, and they were hungry, so we armed ourselves and fled. Much firing of weapons ensued, and much fleeing, most of it divided up into an easily digestible three-act structure. At last, we found an unlikely way to dispose of all the Things except one. That last Thing proved tenacious in the extreme. It cornered our most attractive member in the confines of a large factory apparatus that produced quantities of steam, though no production implements were visible. Our attractive member endured many narrow escapes amid plumes of steam, until she was able to trick the Thing and induce it to stumble into a pit of molten steel (a pit that also served no readily discernible purpose).  Our attractive member emerged, cosmetically smudged with raiment rent in strategically arousing areas. Backing around a corner, she bumped backs with an attractive single father of two who happened to have started working in her favorite coffeeshop up the road…