Aliens and Waste (A&W) – A Hip Hop Horror Story

Electricity buzzed, hummed and sang.

In the distance, they sprang.

Saucers hovering—-over an erupting tower.

Emitting waves—-unknown frequencies, oscillations and power.

Animals fried. Forests died.

Even fish cried.

First, the religious denied.


They died.

Then, the wealthy tried to hide.

Prepared in advanced, thought it was a storm they’d ride.

Even (insert billionaire) was cocky and snide.

Alas, He was also cast aside.

No human can survive the tide.

Underground, then underwater; even the sky—-some tried, only to meet slaughter.

Didn’t matter.

BLAM! Splatter!

No survivors. Doesn’t matter.

Even old Mr. Whittaker on the cane was made insane from the pain in his brain when the waves went “zing” and “clang”.


Even the president hid under covers man.

It was wild.

Then, someone showed up smoking a black and mild.

Barely just a child.

Hip battles.

Music rattles.

The ground quakes.

Where’s the Calvary for Pete sake’s?

“Aye, aye, Cap’n, firing’ into the rakes! Jesus H Christ bullets at the speed of lice!” The Commander shouted.

“Direct hit!” Someone touted.

“Oh man. Holy… I guess that didn’t do—”


Casualties in the billions.

Nine by two, divided.

No jive.

4.5 Billion baptized, vaporized, ignited.

The surface of the planet couldn’t hide it.

Blast from the fake sun; America and China combined and tried it. Real shit, Son.

Advanced technology denied it.

Half the world in siege.

“What next, my liege?” Asked a lizard in long, metallic sleeves. “Shall we announce that we are oxygen thieves and our aim to exterminate all that breathes?”

“Now, now, calm it, Slash Sleeves. We shall assess the planet. Watched broadcasts. Must beware of Chris. The one called Reeves. Flies in tights. Problems with the bat for being superior. Luckily, this green stone shall make the Kryptonian inferior should he date breach the interior,” said the alien called, Saturn Superior.

Distant observation. Genocide. Mass extermination and incarceration.

Even the weathers affected. Massive regions, no sublimation.

Survivors in caves, huddled for warmth.

Long winter starvation.

A child awakens, seems to have a dream.

New glory. Hope unseen.


Laser hits rock.

Dozens under rubble.

A moment that felt like a dream, blasted while ignorance had hope in what was not seen.

“No escape. No survival. I will fire our lasers in a musical pattern: call it revival!” shouted Slash Sleeves during his macabre recital. “We can feel their hope. Taste good dreams. Kill them while they feel safe, protected and unseen. Such a thing—-the American Dream. Bombs on the ground—- killing the Asian, African, Latino and Brown. Even the Asians on cocks—-the ones in the Midwest with accents, primal beliefs and sponsored thoughts. You know—retards that are easily bought because it’s what they’re taught. A destiny to manifest because their European heritage makes them feel better than the rest. Their families’ fields made the to burn by the one who promised them it was their turn. Fry them first. The More Man’s lust for water in the desert shall show him thirst—-Actually, aim there—-Salted Lake first. Where the More Man’s are—end the oxygen and internal thirst!”

“You heard the boss! The filthy, worthless, vermin first! That means destroy the More Man’s and Lavishly Despicable Slime church,” Henchman One shouted from his perch.

“Mom, look! The lights!” a child shouted in bright surprise, rubbing delicate eyes. A bright light—- house of sand and dust. No surprise. BLAM! Again, no hope. Even grandmas will die. Don’t breathe. Don’t think. Don’t try.

On the radio and tv, “Governments lie; Cover-up! Friends in high places! No surprise! China and the US, allies! Russia too! What lies! Controlling prices and gas! Staging a war because resources low and CEOs need to think fast—another chip or laptop to ship. Schools need IQs to dip.”

Aliens melt us as our broadcasts secretly harm the growth several combined types of gas.

WiFi data transmission burns molecules? Who knew our air won’t last. Good luck seeing any child born post 2024 run on grass.

Our actions robbed them fast.

Bessos for Bezos.

Billions of trash crushed a day.

What landfill will they overfill today?

Remember homeless people and manufacturing shortages—-destroy the everything in the bay.

Italians on plots of nuclear waste.

Chileans throwing things in the Amazon wherever they find space.

Chinese aristocracy thinking they’re an only race—fractured ideals spreading at an alarming pace.

“More lasers!” Shouted Henchman with no name—something generic like, Clone, Rawr #1 or names of thugs.

The end of the human race, brought to you by me, you and us.

The end is thus:

The aliens come after what you, me, he, we and she does.

It’s too late.

Accept the human fate.

Hip hop horror.


Thanks for reading and following my blog.

Getting back into it.

Lmk what you think of this.

Always thought of doing hip hop horror.

Share it if it gave you a smile, a year or any other emotionally moving power.




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