Spud's many years of traveling the globe had resulted in a wealth of amazing memories and experiences. Unfortunately though, he had never had the luxury of sharing those experiences with anyone as he had always traveled solo. To remedy that, the tuber had been contemplating perhaps taking his next trip with a pal.
The tater had invited a fellow potato friend over for dinner one evening to discuss travel plans for a trip together. As the two sat down for supper, they began brainstorming ideas for which corner of the globe they should visit.
Suddenly they were plunged into total darkness. The room began to shake and quiver uncontrollably. Dishes danced off the shelves; crashing to the floor...sparks shot out from the electrical outlets and showered the countertop. Then, just as suddenly as it began - it stopped; and the room was shrouded in a deafening silence. The light tinkled once or twice, then came back to life. Spud looked across the table in horror - his potato pal had been mashed beyond recognition and his innards had been whipped into a tall mound on his plate. Paralyzed with fear, Spud stared in utter disbelief.
A few days later, Spud was still traumatized by the events of that night. Visions of the mashed mound his friend had become, plagued his thoughts in an endless array of nightmares. As the tater tried once again to escape a night of terrible dreams, he was jarred awake - red eyes bulging from their socket hole. The tater was awake, but was not in control of his body. Imprisoned within his plastic casing, the potato rose from his sack, slipped on his feet and climbed into his car. Spud had no idea what was happening to him or where he was headed at 3 in the morning. Whatever was controlling his body, the potato had no influence over it.
The potato drove southwest for hour after hour after hour. Fifteen hundred miles spun on his odometer before his car finally slowed after crossing into the state of Wyoming. There, in the distance, was a huge stand of extruded rock that soared above the dense forest at its feet. The formation, known as the Devil's Tower, looked exactly like the mound of mash Spud's friend had been turned into. Chills ran down the back of his plastic neck.
Spud's Tuberrossa rolled to a stop near the base of the 1267 foot monolith. Still unable to control his limbs, Spud was helpless as he climbed from the vehicle and up onto the rock.
The potato could hear voices coming from near the sheer walls of the rock tower. Suddenly he could hear shuffling behind him. The potato looked on in terror to find that he was surrounded by little green creatures with bulbous heads and dead, black eyes!
had been abducted by Aliens!!!