Friday, December 11, 2009
A lonely stretch of Oklahoma farmland, with one lonely road cutting through the swaths of geometric squares of corn and wheat fields. An old, 30s-style pickup truck labors its way along the thoroughfare. An elderly farmer and his wife ride in silence, their many childless years having robbed them of the capacity for true happiness.
Suddenly, their truck is rattled by an overhead explosion. Wind and dust kick up, and suddenly, a great fireball streaks over the hood of the pickup, crashing into the cornfield adjacent to the road and churning up 100 yards of earth before finally coming to a spectacular rest. The truck screeches to a halt.
From behind the shapeless mass of the meteor’s wreckage, we see the elderly couple picking their way along the meteor’s charred landing swath. The wife suddenly goes wide-eyed, gasping. The father is struck dumb.
We now see, from their perspective, a young boy, no more than 10, with a shock of perfectly coiffed orange hair (almost like a pointed helmet), and the beginnings of an impressive handlebar mustache, clambering out of the wreckage of what looks to be a heart-shaped spacecraft. He is dressed only in purple silk boxer shorts with a heart-shaped pattern on them. He slowly stands upright, slowly puts his hands behind his head, and begins to swivel his hips.
The rest is history.