WTTQ Special Report – Moonshadow Motors Uncovered

What looks like a quirky roadside dealership, polished chrome fenders, neon signs buzzing in the simulated night, isn’t what it seems. 

Behind the showroom floor of Moonshadow Motors, investigators have uncovered something far larger: an undercover Mars station run by the SEGI Project.

At the center of it all is Aramis, the elusive figure said to be the station’s chief operator. Sources suggest Aramis oversees the portal systems linking Moonshadow’s “garage bays” to sealed SEGI domes hidden beneath the Martian surface.

Customers think they’re test-driving futuristic hovercrafts, but according to leaked documents, they may be boarding interplanetary transfer pods. 

Some describe the motors’ “warranty room” as containing holographic consoles, red dust filters, and faint echoes of Martian winds.

Moonshadow Motors, then, isn’t just a dealership; it’s a front for something cosmic. 

Is Aramis smuggling technology from Mars into the Monty region? Or is SEGI preparing a fleet of disguised vehicles to merge Earth’s highways with Martian roads? We are not sure yet, but go and investigate this place. Remember the code word is M.A.R.S.

Either way, WTTQ will keep watching.

“SEGI Project Begins October 1 — UFO Deployment Confirmed”

Raine Solara, live from Monty Region, Area 52
“Good evening, listeners and grid-walkers. This just in the SEGI Project, long whispered about in notecards and late-night Discord leaks, has an official start date: October 1st. 

And the timing couldn’t be stranger, because tonight, under the violet haze of the Monty Region skies, UFOs have been deployed.”

“We’ve danced at the Basement Club. We’ve watched aliens eat our pizza and sip our espresso macchiatos. But tonight, they’ve stopped pretending to blend in. October 1st marks the opening of something bigger, and the UFOs are already here.”

This is no rehearsal.
This is no rumor.
This is the start of the SEGI Project as it was always meant to be: public, visible, and interstellar. 

WTTQ will be broadcasting live as the SEGI Project’s events unfold. Stay tuned for ground updates, air surveillance, and eyewitness reports. Go to Area 52 to start your journey, starting at 6PM SLT, with our very own Dr. Parallax welcoming the aliens. Look for the small UFO to get a gift, and make sure you visit all the venues.

This is Raine Solara for WTTQ, reminding you that October 1st is not just a date on the calendar. 

It’s the day the sky officially opened.

“Why Do the Aliens Take Our Cows?”

 Anchor Raine Solara, live from Area 52, Monty Region

“Good evening, viewers. Tonight, we tackle one of the strangest, most unsettling mysteries in the chronicles of alien contact: the cows. Why them? Why here? Why now?”

From the windswept pastures of the Monty Region to the classified enclosures of the SEGI Project, cattle have repeatedly been reported missing, mutilated, or returned altered in inexplicable ways.

Cows breathe our air, drink our water, and graze on our grass. Their physiology provides a living snapshot of Earth’s environment, making them the ideal test subjects for extraterrestrial science.

Declassified SEGI memos hint that alien visitors may not feed in ways we understand. Instead, they harvest enzymes, hormones, and even microbial colonies from bovine systems to create sustainable food for long interstellar voyages.

Across Earth’s cultures, cows carry profound meaning from sacred reverence to economic livelihood. Some researchers argue that their abductions are less about biology and more about sending a chilling message: “We know what you treasure most.”
And then, there’s the human toll.

Tubby, a longtime Basement Club regular, lost his cow during April’s Monty Region disturbances. While the SEGI Project insisted the animal was “safe and serving science” aboard Atlas 3i, Tubby was left with nothing but a luminous ear-tag, an alien token of gratitude that feels more like a cruel reminder.

So the question remains: are the cows victims of cosmic necessity… or pawns in an interstellar mind game?

This is Raine Solara, WTTQ, reminding you: if the aliens come for your livestock, lock the barn doors tight, but know it may already be too late.

WTTQ LATE-NIGHT SPECIAL REPORT

“Behind the Velvet Curtain: Kinky Groups of the Grid”

 Anchor Raine Solara, reporting from the Monty Region:
"Viewers, what happens when avatars wander off the dance floor at the Basement Club, or slip away from the glow of Area 52’s purple skies? Many find themselves pulled into worlds stranger than aliens, stranger than UAPs, into the labyrinth of kinky groups scattered across Second Life."

Noobs sometimes do not know about these weird groups, or maybe they pretend they do not know.

According to investigative notecards circulating the grid, some groups parade under titles like “Grandpa’s Hideaway,” “Rope & Roses,” and “The Spandex Collective.” Membership counts run in the hundreds, sometimes thousands. Their feeds are littered with explicit snapshots, roleplay invitations, and cryptic announcements that often read like secret rituals.

But it’s not just fringe avatars. 

WTTQ cameras have caught familiar names, yes, even frequent visitors to The Retreat and the Basement lurking in the rosters of these groups. ( Second Life is wild; it has every kind of niche. Just because someone is in a group doesn’t always mean they’re active. But if his groups clash with your values, that clash won’t go away by itself.)

Some claim it’s just “for the drama.” Others admit it’s where they go when the music stops, when the aliens don’t call back, when the loneliness between logins grows too sharp.

Experts at SEGI whisper of a new cultural phenomenon: avatar duality. 

By day, DJs, dancers, or gallery curators. By night, members of groups trade in fetishes, kinks, and blurred boundaries between fantasy and reality.

So, is it dangerous?
For some, it’s just an expression.
For others, it’s a trap exposing them to scams, harassment, or the digital equivalent of public shame.

WTTQ reminds viewers: 

Groups in Second Life reflect choices. If you join, you are seen. If you hide, someone will still notice.

If it’s a deal-breaker, it’s okay to say so. “That’s not something I’m okay with, so I don’t think this works for me.”
If you’re unsure, you can set a limit: “Do what you like in SL, but I’d prefer you not involve me in anything connected to those groups.”

And the question remains: 

What happens when kinky groups collide with the alien investigations of Area 52? 

Do the visitors from Alcyone understand our fetishes… or are they taking notes for their own?

This is Raine Solara for WTTQ, urging you: check your groups list twice before someone else does.

“Thirty Hours After the Rapture”

“Thirty hours after the supposed Rapture, the 3I-Atlas continues to hum above Area 52, a colossal machine said to be both telescope and wardrobe. Witnesses claim it doesn’t just look out into space; it reflects us back in ways we don’t yet understand.”

FIELD REPORTER: “According to SEGI monitors, thousands of individuals claimed they ‘felt the lift,’ but never left. Instead… the sky blinked. The gates stayed closed. 

And the aliens? They never moved an inch.”

“Scientists aligned with the SEGI Project suggest the 3I-Atlas was seeded by the aliens themselves. They call it a translation device. Not a weapon. Not a ship. But a place where language becomes garment, and thought becomes architecture.”

ALIEN WITNESS: ‘We never said we would leave. We said you would.’

Devon, pacing in a dim room, tearing open envelopes. Postcards fall out, each stamped with the words: “Still Here.”

DR. PARALLAX: “This isn’t an end. It’s a waiting room. Thirty hours in… and the system hasn’t decided who goes, who stays. The longer it lags, the stranger reality will get.”

All of this commotion brought back Dandy (no more cardboard DJ) and also a new DJ to our group, DJ Greta Jane, who played some 80s music. The aliens loved it.

“Thirty hours after the rapture, it’s not salvation or apocalypse. It’s… a delay.   

If you saw it on TV you know it is true.

👽👽👽

And if the aliens aren’t leaving, the question is...

...are we supposed to?”

If the Rapture Doesn’t Get You… This Will! 

“AREA 52 ALERT: Look away from your reflection if it starts looking back.”

“ED’s Universe: The Gate Between Worlds”

Hidden within the vast archives of the SEGI Project, ED’s Space Club and Universe is listed not just as a venue but as a Transit Node. Those who visit quickly realize it’s more than a nightclub; it’s a launch pad for journeys across dimensions.

But to those who’ve stepped through its shimmering portals, it’s more than nightlife. It’s a gateway. I'm calling it “Station Élysée: Comfort Among the Stars.” You will not regret your visit here; it is alien-approved. And, oh, make sure to take your time, as you will need it.

“Not every space station is built for science or war. Some, like Station Élysée, are built for living.

Ed's Universe offers more than just survival. It offers comfort. Suites with zero-gravity beds that cradle you like clouds. Gardens suspended in transparent spheres, where alien flowers bloom under artificial suns. And entire districts dedicated to cuisine  from lunar-grown greens to imported Martian wines.”

ALIEN GUEST TUBBY: ‘We don’t come here to escape space. We come here to feel at home in it.’

“And yet, it’s more than luxury. Ed's Universe is a crossroad. Diplomats sign accords here. Musicians play concerts that ripple through the hull like a heartbeat. And every traveler, from cargo pilot to wandering avatar, finds a place to rest.”

ANJELIKKA: “Darling, why would you ever go back down to Earth… when you can be this comfortable in the stars?”

Like Ed says himself: “Discover a destination beyond imagination from the depths of space to the shining moon, and into a fantastic underwater world. Travel through galaxies aboard shimmering starships, dive into hidden oceans, or wander across lunar landscapes. With countless teleport options, the journey is yours to choose… and the adventure never ends.

These guys warned me NOT to contaminate the station.

“Ed's Universe. Comfort among the stars. And maybe, the future of home itself.”

“J&R’s Ballroom: The Piano That Dances Back”

According to scattered files from the SEGI Project, J&R’s Ballroom isn’t just a music venue. It’s a living instrument. Please stop by and show your support...you never know what kind of person you may meet.

Architecture: The entire building is shaped like a grand piano tipped on its side. The black-and-white keys stretch into the dance floor, and when stepped on, they resonate with deep, otherworldly tones. Guests swear the keys play them back.

Strange Effects: Dancers sometimes vanish into the “piano roll,” only to reappear hours later, disoriented but humming forgotten jazz tunes. We suspect this is SEGI experimenting with time signatures as time portals.

Anjelikka insists her gown rustles like a soft melody when she enters the Ballroom. Witnesses say her presence turns the air into sheet music.

Dr. Parallax, watching via intergalectic transmission, once told WTTQ that the Ballroom was seeded by “an alien pianist who mistook Earth for a metronome.” Naturally, he found this “weird, even for Area 52.”

Needless to say, it is a lovely place to dance and mingle, but the alien-cats have claimed the bass clef section as their own, treating it like a velvet lounge. They lap at cocktails left vibrating on the low notes. Stop by and listen to some music every Sunday at 1PM, and wear some of your formal stuff, you know you have some in your inventory.

Who is this fellow she is dancing with? I think he said his name was Al LEE Enn

WTTQ Special Report: “Halloween in the Hands of the Aliens”

At Area 52, the aliens definitely celebrate Halloween, but in ways that make humans wonder if they got the memo or rewrote it.

Reporting live from the Retreat Plaza

Instead of dressing as something else, the aliens literally trade skins. One might show up wearing the outer husk of another species, shimmering like a borrowed avatar. 

Anjelikka once caught them trying on “Second Life Premium bodies” as costumes.

An alien took over Anjelikka's skin

Aliens don’t knock. They teleport into your living room and demand, “Trick, treat, or transmission?” Their candy is often crystallized starlight or gooey cubes of unknown protein. Kids in Area 52 swear the candy whispers their names at night.

Alien haunted houses are not decorated with cobwebs and skeletons. Instead, they bend physics doors lead to infinite hallways, mirrors reflect your other self, and sometimes you emerge older than when you entered.

Pumpkins glow from within, carved into fractal runes. Sometimes the runes… move. Sometimes they open their own little mouths and chant back.

Last year’s top alien costume: “Middle Management.” 

Nobody understood it, but Dr. Parallax swears the alien just wore a tie and made everyone fill out paperwork.

The “Pumpkin Oath”: Before the carving begins, Dr. Parallax leads a ritual where everyone presses their hand (or tentacle) onto the pumpkin and chants,

“May the veil be thin, may the seeds take root.” 

Nobody’s sure if it’s symbolic or an actual spell.

WTTQ Special Segment: “When the Aliens Fell for Fall”

This week, as crisp winds sweep the Monty Region, something unexpected happened at Area 52: the aliens officially welcomed Earth’s autumn.

Witnesses describe them standing in awe beneath falling leaves, tracing the veins of orange maples with glowing fingers. Some gathered piles of leaves not to rake them, but to launch themselves into, laughing with sounds like chiming bells.

A particularly poetic alien transmitted the phrase:
“In our world, stars change color. On yours, the trees do. Both are signs of turning.”

DR. PARALLAX:
“Each leaf is a mirror. By tossing them into the fire, you’re releasing versions of yourself you don’t need anymore. That’s why they encourage everyone to burn two leaves, at least  one for you, one for your reflection.”

But the most mysterious act came at dusk, when the visitors projected a glowing pattern in the skies above Area 52: a swirling fractal of orange, gold, and violet, their own tribute to Earth’s fall equinox.
SEGI analysts are divided. Was this a friendly gesture of seasonal kinship? Or a signal to others waiting beyond the stars that Earth has entered “the harvest cycle”?

At Area 52, the aliens aren’t a single uniform species; they’re a tapestry of beings, each with their own quirks, traditions, and baffling habits. Over the past transmissions and sightings, here’s what’s been gathered about them:

Who They Are

Tubby’s Kind: Gentle but secretive, humanoid in shape yet carrying a quiet sadness, like the grief over his abducted cow. They’re drawn to Earth food (especially pizza) and sometimes slip into human social scenes like speed dating.

Astrid’s Cousins: Slim, tall, with faintly glowing eyes. They’re scientists of a sort, but not cold; they seem fascinated with studying human relationships, sketching them like field notes.

⁂¤π∴ (the Symbolic One): A being of glyphs and codes, often sending cryptic postcards from faraway star systems. Their communications sound poetic, fragmented, as though they’re half here, half somewhere else.

The Monarch Aliens: Hybrids or shapeshifters linked to butterflies, fluttering between forms, carriers of memory and migration. They symbolize both fragility and resilience.

The SEGI Project Connection: Some say they’re part of a massive experiment, either running it or being studied by it. SEGI’s “mass hallucination” theories suggest human perception and alien presence might be interwoven.

The Hunt for Extragrid Intelligence: They invite humans to join in their own kind of scavenger hunt, testing whether we can read their signs.

Cultural Exchange: Autumn, pizza, espresso macchiatos - these earthly experiences have become symbolic to them, almost as if they’re collecting souvenirs of human life.

Despite their openness in certain moments, such as sending postcards, dancing in nightclubs, and cooking questionable stews, they remain elusive. For every sign of friendship, there’s also an unsettling echo:
The jukebox that skips only on certain lyrics.
The cardboard cutouts left behind after abductions.
The thunderclaps of deception when humans realize they’ve been misled.

Some WTTQ analysts believe the aliens aren’t visitors at all but fragments of human imagination made manifest in the Monty Region, reflections of what we fear, crave, and grieve.

Aliens are experiencing autumn for the first time on Earth, and giving it their own cosmic twist.

“Celebrate fall with the aliens, and remember: if your leaves whisper back when you pick them up… that’s just the season saying hello.”

Happy fall!!!

Do Aliens Vomit? The Uneasy Truth in numbers...

Scientists at the SEGI Project claim that alien physiology doesn’t quite function the way human physiology does. Instead, when their systems reject food, they expel matter in bursts of light, mist, or plasma-like streams. 

Some witnesses call it “stellar discharge.”

Types of Alien “Vomiting”:
Plasma Purge: A shimmering arc of green sparks, often mistaken for auroras.
Mistfall: A cloud of vapor carrying the scent of ozone, garlic, or strangely pepperoni. (Could be from the pizza party the night before).
Data Spasm: Instead of matter, they eject fragments of information symbols, radio waves, or cryptic coordinates, perhaps the number 67???

Warning: SEGI researchers advise not to stand directly in front of an alien when this happens. Reports say one unlucky DJ’s equipment was fried during a plasma purge.

So yes, aliens do vomit… but in ways that are far stranger, and sometimes more dangerous, than ours.

CLASSIFIED SEGI INTERNAL MEMO
Ref: SEGI/OPS/67-NODE
Date: April 24, 2047
Clearance: EYES ONLY

Rachel found the number carved into a coaster at the Ale E Inn, three short dashes and then 67 in faded ink. She thought it was the bartender’s favorite table number. Later, late at Area 52, Dr. Parallax showed her a spectral readout and said only, “They mark the nodes. Wherever 67 appears, something remembers us.” The jukebox skipped the next line of the song, and the whole room smelled faintly of cinnamon ozone.

Test subjects exposed to subliminal pulses at 67 Hz reported:

Sudden déjà vu! Visual hallucinations of purple skies
Recurring dreams of moths circling a train that never departs. One subject whispered, “They marked me. I’m Node 67 now.”

Do not broadcast or publish the significance of 67 to public media. This code is both a locator and a key. Public exposure could trigger mass hallucinations or unauthorized contact.

Signed:
Dr. Parallax, SEGI Lead Analyst
Monty Region Field Division

“Tonight, WTTQ has obtained a leaked SEGI memo stamped with the chilling number 67. What looks like just a prime number may in fact be the cosmic calling card of the visitors at Area 52. From jukebox skips to purple skies, from moths to dreams, the number 67 appears again and again. Is it just a frequency, or is it their way of keeping track of us? 

In the Area 52 mythos, “67” might be the sound-word that matches a buried human memory. Hearing it makes people see the same image: a train that never left, a moth on a jukebox, a postcard with a comet. For aliens, it’s a gentle probe: say “67” and watch what memory surfaces.

Stay tuned… we’re not done following the trail.”

WTTQ Breaking Report: “Garbage in the Heavens”

Transmission #015: “The Sky as a Wardrobe”
Filed by: Raine Solara
Location: Retreat Sector Sky Deck
Status: Distorted. Annotated.

“Viewers, tonight we bring you unsettling news from the skies above the Retreat. Reports confirm that orbital debris, soda cans, half-broken hoverboards, and an alarming number of abandoned gachas have drifted into the violet corridors used by our extraterrestrial neighbors.

This is what a clean sky looks like

The aliens, usually tolerant of human quirks, are furious. To them, the Retreat’s sky is a sacred broadcast lattice, a woven field of signals. And now? It looks like a yard sale gone wrong. They thought the sky was infinite. An open dome no one could stain. But now? It looks like a bargain bin.”

ANJELIKKA: “I told them. The sky is not scenery. It’s fabric. And right now, you’ve hung cheap rags over my mirror. Wardrobes are supposed to elevate. Not degrade. If you throw your waste into the heavens, don’t call it sky. Call it vanity undone. ”

DR. PARALLAX: “This is not mere litter. Each object bends their communication streams, creating echoes. Last night, a single pair of socks caused five duplicate messages and one accidental marriage proposal to a star cluster.”    

CASEY: “Okay, I’ll admit it, we thought tossing those empty soup cans upward was harmless fun. But now… the aliens are demanding recycling ceremonies before they’ll send us any more postcards.

“CLEAN YOUR SKY. RESPECT THE SIGNAL.”

WTTQ: Where the Truth Takes a Bite

WTTQ Breaking Broadcast

“Good evening, truth-seekers. Tonight, we bring you an exclusive slice of revelation hot from Area 52. Why, of all Earth’s culinary creations, do aliens keep coming back for pizza? 

The answer may surprise you.
“Listeners, buckle in because we peel back the melted layers of a mystery as old as the first pizza oven. 

Why do aliens love pizza? The truth is saucier than you think.

According to sources close to the SEGI Project, extraterrestrial visitors have declared pizza the closest Earth food to intergalactic cuisine. Its round shape reminds them of planetary cycles. Its toppings mimic layered star maps. And the cheese? They call it ‘liquid starlight’ once it melts.

Reports from Monty Region confirm that extraterrestrials have been spotted loitering near pizza parlors, scanning delivery boxes, even slipping cryptic tips to drivers like, ‘Extra mushrooms always extra mushrooms.’

Texture & Taste: To them, the crust mimics the mineral-rich surfaces of moons they once mined. Pepperoni? They call it ‘spiced orbit coins.’ Olives? ‘The eyes of the void.’ And anchovies, believe it or not, are considered delicacies, resembling a rare spacefish from the Andromeda Deep.

Shape & Symbol: Round pizzas are sacred. They resemble planetary bodies, solar cycles, and wormhole portals. When a pie is sliced, the wedges remind them of celestial navigation charts. To share a slice is to align oneself with the map of the cosmos.

Ritual & Connection: Our simple act of gathering at a table, hands reaching for the same dish, is seen as one of humanity’s highest acts of unity. Aliens don’t just eat pizza… they celebrate it. In fact, some claim pizza is why they haven’t invaded: ‘A species that creates this,’ one alien said, ‘cannot be destroyed.’

And so, as saucers hover and rumors fly, remember: if you want to make first contact… skip the speeches. Just bring a pizza.”

But here’s the real kicker: pizza isn’t just food, it’s a ritual. Sharing a pie, gathering around the table, passing a slice, aliens see this as humanity’s most profound ceremony of unity. One insider tells us, ‘They won’t beam up until the last slice is gone.’

So if you notice a strange glow outside your local pizzeria or a saucer hovering above a delivery car, don’t panic. Just know: the universe runs on more than energy… it runs on extra cheese.”

WTTQ—Where the Sauce Meets the Stars

Episode 4: “Anjelikka’s Signature”

“Readers, the investigation takes a turn tonight. For weeks, we’ve asked: Who hung the Violet Sky? Who wove its threads? Evidence recovered from Trenton’s last transmission points to one name. A name we thought was legend. A name we feared. Anjelikka.”

Is this Anjelikka behind the mask?

“I’ve seen this signature before. On garments she designed. Dresses woven from mirrors. Masks laced with whispers. It’s the same thread, the same hand. She didn’t just create fashion; she created frameworks for it. If the sky is clothing… It’s couture. And we’re on the runway.”

DR. PARALLAX: “This is catastrophic. Anjelikka’s signature isn’t just vanity. It’s authorship. She didn’t leave her mark on the fabric; she is the fabric. Every violet thread carries a fragment of her. Which means every stitch added to human flesh is… assimilation.” Slamming a dossier on the desk: “PROJECT AEON – TERMINATED.” 

Who are they?

Inside: photos of Anjelikka’s earliest experiments. People disappearing into garments that looked suspiciously like sky.

ANJELIKKA (hiding her accent): “Darling, you asked me to dress the world. So I did. Now the sky wears you.”

Draxtor: You are so strange, Anjelikka.

In the meantime, the aliens are preparing to clear the field for a landing coming soon.

“She isn’t gone. She isn’t hiding. She’s tailoring the heavens. And we’re all in her collection.”

Violet static forms a runway. Models without faces walk into infinity. One turns. It is Raine Solara doubled, mirrored, stitched at the seams.

Final crawl:

“You don’t wear Anjelikka. She wears you.”

Episode 3: “Trenton’s Train Through the Loom”

“Tonight, the Violet Sky stretches further. Beyond Area 52. Beyond what we thought were the limits of air and earth. Trenton Glass has boarded the ghost train again, and this time, he says the tracks run straight into the loom itself.”

Is the ghost train engine 229?

TRENTON GLASS: “The tunnels aren’t made of stone anymore. They’re woven. Fabric walls, shimmering with threads of time. Each stitch is a year. Each seam… a life.”

FIELD REPORTER: “I can see them, Trenton. Faces in the fabric. Passengers stitched into the walls, still breathing. They watch as we pass. She’s dealing futures like they’re currency. And one card… It’s blank. She keeps it close, as if saving it for us.”

DR. PARALLAX (studio, analyzing signal): “This confirms it.

The Violet Sky is no mere phenomenon. It’s a transit system. The ghost train isn’t riding through our world anymore; it’s riding through the threads that stitch realities together. But if you’re stitched once… You may not come back whole.”

TRENTON GLASS (final log, voice breaking): “I saw my reflection in the window. But it wasn’t me. It was… the suit I never wore, grinning back. If this train reaches the end of the thread,....... ” (signal cuts out)

Voice says: “The Violet Sky doesn’t just hang above us. It carries us inside it. 

And if Trenton’s train is right, we’re all passengers now.”

“When the track runs out, the needle waits.”

Segment: “Nutella vs. Peanut Butter: What Do Aliens Really Prefer?”

WTTQ Channel 10 Consumer Watch

Raine Solera:
“Welcome back, viewers. We all know humans have long fought the pantry war: Nutella versus peanut butter. But what about the extraterrestrial palate? Our team has taste-tested with the galaxy’s most reluctant food critics, the aliens of Area 52.”

Stop right here!!!

Anjelikka: "It’s not even close. Nutella had the aliens glowing with excitement. One saucer captain described it as ‘liquid velvet for the neurons.’ In fact, several attempted to barter three wormhole coordinates just for a spoonful.”

Alien-cats pawing at a Nutella jar, tails flicking wildly. 

Caption: “Observed Behavior: Purring at 432 Hz.” 

Rachel: “But peanut butter? That’s where things get… sticky. Literally. The moment they tried it, one alien declared, ‘This is mouth cement. Why would humans worship this adhesive?’ Another attempted to use it as thermal paste for their spacecraft. Reports indicate engine failure.”

...and there goes a jar into the mothership.

DR. PARALLAX (serious tone):

“Let me be clear. Peanut butter may divide humans, but for aliens, it’s a universal rejection. Its molecular density disrupts their psychic taste receptors. Nutella, on the other hand, amplifies them. That makes it more than food. It’s… a stimulant.”

“So there you have it, folks. If you want to make friends with aliens, hide the peanut butter, stockpile the Nutella, and maybe lock your cupboards. Because once they’ve tasted it, they don’t ask. They take.”

“Spread wisely.”

Where did the aliens hide that Nutella?

“ALIENS HONOR THE MEMORY OF 9/11”

WTTQ SPECIAL REPORT

“Good evening. Tonight, we step away from speculation and confront something deeper, remembrance. Sources at Area 52 report that the aliens themselves, in their strange but unmistakable ways, honored the memory of 9/11.

It was not through speeches or flags. It was through silence. Eyewitnesses describe how, during a gathering under the purple skies, the aliens simply… stopped. Their movements froze, their luminous eyes dimmed, and for several minutes, they stood with humans in quiet unity.”

“One visitor to the Retreat told me the moment felt as if time itself bent around the memory of that day. The aliens seemed to hold space for our grief, almost as though they recognized the scar it left on humanity.

Witnesses recall hearing three tones reverberate in the air, low, resonant notes that some described as a cosmic bell tolling for the fallen.”

Please read the story of "John", my personal experience with 9/11.

“Perhaps this is proof of something many have quietly hoped: that even across galaxies, tragedy resonates. That the sorrow we carry is not unnoticed, not forgotten, even by those not of this world.

Here at Area 52, we also observe that moment of silence. In memory. In unity. In hope.”

From the aliens:

"Tonight, our rituals commence. The flame-spiral dancers will lift trails of smoke into the violet sky. The shard-bearers will exchange fragments of melted glass, symbols of fragility. And we will hum The Long Pause, the frequency of silence that swept your world after the collapse.
We admit we do not understand. We are absurd in our attempts. We confuse ritual with reality, symbol with sorrow. Yet we persist, because to forget is to erase, and erasure is a cruelty.
So we speak to you, humans who survived, humans who mourn:
You are not alone in your remembering.

Even in Area 52, among the watchers and the wanderers, we hum your silence. 

We breathe your grief. 

We honor your resilience."

This is WTTQ, Area 52 signing off in memory.”