he silver saucer silently slipped through the dark night sky, stopping for a second to be silohetted by the bright, full moon, and then continuing on its way. The flying, silver circle swished through the air, hardly making a sound. Trees and houses flashed by, their windows dark and silent. A meandering hobo happened to look up as the silent behemoth passed overhead. He shook his grizzled mug and guzzled another long drought from his half-empty whisky bottle before taking another wobbly step down the sidewalk.

The disc came to a park. Towering trees loomed in the darkness, park benches beckoned invitingly to the tired pedestrian. The disc stopped, hovering just above the towering tree tops, over a foot path. Pausing, like an animal waiting to spring. Like a predator waiting for prey. Waiting for something.

That something came: a short man taking a leisurely, midnight stroll, spectacles perched precariously on his nose, what he absolutely denied was a hair piece perched even more precariously on his head

He halted when he saw the flying saucer floating ominously over the path, its surface brighter than the moon. The man froze in fear. His eyes widened, his skin whitened. He stared.

A small panel opened in the side of the saucer, and from it a green light, like a flashlight, shot out, shining on the man. The beam narrowed, centering on the man's head. It slowly moved upward, pulling the toupée with it, like a sort of tractor beam. The green light surrounded the false hair, bringing it closer to the open panel.

When the hair was safely inside, the panel closed softly. The ship began to move upward, faster and faster every second.

The man stood there, stunned. The moon light reflected off his now hairless head, its bald sheen rivaling that of the flying saucer. The man never saw his hair again, and his friends scoffed at his bizarre abduction tale.

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