There were gray aliens with tentacles raining down from the sky and killing everything around, but it was just another Sunday for me. Everyone was pissed. Angry mobs with guns and ammo gathered in public places shot volleys of bullets at the aliens's forcefield protected spaceships. The bullets, of course, all fell down without doing a single thing except occasionally coming straight down onto very people who shot them.
Some people tried to worship the aliens and appease them. They brought them sacrifices - corn, candy, McDonald's, and when that wasn't enough, minorities, homosexuals, and virgins. But the aliens didn't seem to care. They continued blasting away, each creature fully armed with eight ray guns. Kittens, grandmothers, potted plants - none of them were spared.
Then one day on the brink of humanity's destruction one particular alien came down from his spaceship. Armed to his teeth, he was excited to continue what he'd had so much fun doing the previous few weeks. But he stopped for a second and looked around. He saw people cowering in fear, he saw his fellow aliens laughing as they shot up everything in sight. The alien stopped. And that's how I realized I could change the world.
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