The following column is the opinion and analysis of the writer:
I’d never heard of this 50s black-and-white “spine tingler” before. Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 95% so I gave it five minutes.
“An Arizona town that looked like any other desert town,” went the foreboding narration as eerie music warned us of something terrifying among the tumbleweeds.
Perfect Halloween fare. I was hooked.
It was Monday morning when Doc’s first patient, Gus, sat down, frantic. He told Doc he’d seen “strange lights shooting across the sky the other night. They were carrying spores. Big seed pods! I seen ‘em!” Doc prescribed a sedative. He wrote the word “delusional” in his notes and called out, “Next patient.”
“Joey just sits there,” said a weeping Maria, “In front of cable news, pointing at the TV and howling. Nonstop. Joey, the Reagan Republican who voted for Goldwater, is gone! I don’t know who that man in our living room is anymore! He changes channels with a pitchfork and rants about masks and shots and cannibals and pedophiles and voter fraud.”
Over lunch, Doc’s nurse, Josie, was distressed. She told Doc her oldest friend was no longer her friend. “Acted like she was in a cult or something. Won’t talk to me. Like I’m the devil! Or worse.”
Doc’s next patient? Delirious. “When, Della — she’s vaccinated, you know — got mild Covid, three different neighbors knocked on our door and offered us —get this — Ivermectin! People we thought we knew. They said ’Let us send you the links.’ Said the truth would set us free. Scared the jalapeños out of us. And my brother is no longer the man I thought I knew. I can’t talk to him anymore! Calls me ‘part of the problem.’”
Was it mass hysteria? Had Arizona been invaded by creatures from another world?
Doc raced to the Burro Creek Senior Center to check on his dad.
The old man was trolling on his laptop. “Ya can’t trust the FBI, son…Stop the steal!…The Insurrection was led by patriots.” Doc realized he was too late.
“Once you understand you’ll be grateful, son. I’ve never been happier. Or angrier. Sooner or later you’ll have to go to sleep. Go home and sleep, son. You aren’t still afraid of monsters under your bed?” The old man’s eyes remained fixed on his Facebook page as Doc turned and left.
At home and losing his mind, an exhausted Doc knelt beside his bed, lifted the sheet and peered into the dark. “Oh my God.” There, underneath his bed, was an exact duplicate of himself, a replicant, forming inside a giant pulsating seed pod. It was Doc’s replacement. It all became clear to Doc in an instant. The invaders were everywhere. Brain snatchers in plain sight!
Pod Party Chair Kelli Ward! Pinal County Sheriff Lamb. Rep. Paul “They won’t replace us” Gosar.
Congressman Andy Biggs. The Governor! State Senators Wendy Rogers, Vince Leach and Kelly Townsend. Majority Whip Sonny Borrelli. All pod people.
Kari Lake, candidate for Governor? Fresh out of the pod.
Brnovich, running for Senate and Glassman, running for Attorney General? Peas from the same otherworldly pod.
Then there’s Mark Finchem, candidate for secretary of state. Doc shivered. That unearthly pod pupae. In charge of our elections?! They all must have been normal people at one time who simply fell asleep near one of these brain-snatching pods from another world. What else could explain the mass cognitive dissonance? The rejection of reality? The obedience to a distant overlord? Were they from an alternate universe?
Doc ran to his fiancee’s house to warn her. He knocked on her door. “Becky! Are you asleep! Wake up! Becky! If you fall asleep you’ll be replaced! By one of the pod creatures! Becky!”
Becky opened her door, expressionless. “Hi, Doc. There’s nothing to fear, Doc.. Let me email you the links...”
She reached out to take his hand. Doc recoiled. “.. It’s easy, Doc.. Just fall asleep..The Republican Party did..I was thinking, Doc..You know what Arizona needs?”
Doc turned. The madness was spreading!
“Ron Watkins representing us in Congress in 2022…reason and science are so overrated.. by you elitist earthlings.”
He’s a Q-Anon leader! Terrified, Doc ran. He ran all night. By sunrise, disheveled and disoriented, Doc reached I-10 where he watched convoys of semi-trailers roar by, hauling their cargoes of pods and ivermectin as portable morgues rolled north. A concerned deputy pulled over and approached Doc. “You okay, sir?”
“No! I’m not okay. We’ve got to warn the people! They’re everywhere.”
“Calm down, sir. Who is?”
“Pod people! You think I’m crazy don’t you! That I’m psychotic! Call someone! Block the roads in and out of this state. Alert the FBI!”
“What?”
“Can’t you see? They’re here in Arizona! Among us! Stay awake! Can’t you see? You’ve got to stay awake!”
