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Funny Books For Humans

Indie Issue Preview: Invasion of the Klostermen

Brace yourselves! You are about to be invaded by a cultural force greater than any blog can handle! We're delighted to bring you a slice of our upcoming "Indie" issue: "Invasion of the Klostermen"!


It was a typical Sunday morning. I was repairing my fixed gear bicycle in my red brick apartment in Chicago's Wicker Park.

That morning, I successfully raised $8000 on Kickstarter to film a YouTube video of myself biking to North Dakota to propose to my girlfriend of 11 years with a handmade, biodegradable Rube Goldberg device. The project's only backers were my parents, who commented on the Kickstarter page, "Get married and give us grandchildren already!"

Suddenly, there were flashes of light outside my window! Was it a meteor shower? A freak electrical storm? Someone ironically lighting 4th of July fireworks in early October? By the time I pulled out my iPhone to take an Instagram, the flashes had stopped.

"Fascinating," I thought aloud. "This iPhone is practically brand new, yet it loads apps so slowly."

With caution, I poked my head out the window. A set of foreign objects crash landed in the park across the street. My neighborhood was now a series of 20-foot craters (the community garden was not spared) with smoking black boxes at the center of each one. They looked like anvil cases, the kind bands use to store their equipment on tour. Each case was covered in stickers depicting strange, alien-looking band logos. I had never heard of these bands before - and it's usually me telling others they haven't heard of a band before!

Crowds began to form around the craters when - kersnap! - the buckles on one of the alien cases snapped open, as the onomatopoeia implied. The lid creaked up as neon green smoke billowed out of the ominous container.

Out of the smoke, a hideous creature revealed itself to the crowd. It had a long gray head, tendril-like fingers, plaid-colored skin, ridiculously scraggly beard, thick nerd glasses shielding beady red eyes, and reddish hair cut like Dennis the Menace. The Creature bared a striking resemblance to best-selling pop culture essayist Chuck Klosterman, which I assumed was a hilarious coincidence. However, there was nothing hilarious about what happened that day.

The Creature made a grand gesture with his arms. "People of Earth," it spoke from its smirking mouth hole, "do not be alarmed, but Wicker Park is a better movie than anything filmed by astoundingly overrated filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock."

A thirty-year-old skateboarder in the crowd grabbed his shaking head.

"Nooooo," he screamed. "That opinion is too off-beat! Too peculiar! Arrrrgh-!"

The skateboarder's head exploded in a blast of flesh, blood, and piercings. "Oh my god! Just like in Raiders of the Lost Ark," a man in the crowd shouted.

"Actually," The Creature countered. "I was going more for Scanners. Raiders is to Scanners as Billy Joel is to Neil Diamond."

Three more heads exploded in the crowd.

Throngs of affluent, educated young white people ran from the park in terror, trampling each other in fear with their Doc Martens. The buckles on the other anvil cases quickly unlocked and more of these "Klostermen" emerged from their hideous pop culture cocoons...

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