It's All In My Head

It was the end of the day and I headed for home. Walking down the road I stumbled on a toad. "Watch where yer goin', Jack!" said the toad. But toads don't talk! My wife always said I had an over-active imagination, so I said "Excuse me, Mr. Toad, I beg your pardon very much. Believe me when I say that I meant no harm. And anyway, this conversation is just a figment of my imagination and is not taking place. It's all in my head." "Humph!" said the toad. "Wait 'til you take off your shoe tonight. Just see if you think those warts are imaginary!"

I squared my shoulders and continued on, ignoring the interesting but wholly imaginary conversation that had just taken place.

"Br-ack-cack-cack!" said a large red rooster by the side of the road. "What did you say?" I asked. "Never mind, said he." "I'm just trying to think of a good reason to cross the road. Got any ideas? I don't want to stand here all day, but I've got to have a good reason."
"Well, why don't just go ahead and cross it." I suggested. "You do want to get to the other side, don't you?"
"That's it!" said he. "That's a very good reason!" And with a flurry feathers he did just that.

"Well, well," I thought to myself. "Always glad to be helpful; but roosters don't talk. Not even large red ones. I'll just ignore this latest conversation. It's all in my head."

As I started on my way again, I heard a loud, strange humming sound and saw something with bright, whirling red, green, and blue lights descending with huge majesty to block the road ahead and smash the fences on either side. "My, my!" I said out loud. "What is this. . . and what's next?"

As the large, silvery saucer-shaped craft settled down, I could hear crackling and pinging sounds as it cooled off. Suddenly, an orifice opened in its side and an object emerged, somewhat like an egg out of a chicken.
The egg-thing rolled toward me and then split open. Out jumped a short, blue fellow, dressed most extraordinarily. He wore a forest green, peaked hat, the bill of which was encrusted with diamonds. He wore a gold lamé jacket over a white silk shirt, tan buckskin jhodpurs with twin creases down the legs and slender green leather shoes that came to turned-up peaks in front. On the peak of each shoe hung two tiny silver bells. One rang C# and the other rang Db, like real close, you know?
He raised his six-fingered hand and said, in a warbly, high-pitched voice "Take me to your leader!" "Ooh, man!" said I. "Take me to your tailor!

After a very interesting exchange of opinions about inter-galactic trade and the meaning of life, I finally convinced him that he should go to Washington, D.C. and talk to the President. I encouraged him to land on the White House lawn, not on the roof. I wasn't sure it could take the weight of his ship.

"Well, that was interesting," I thought. "But everyone knows there is no such thing as flying saucers or little green men . . . or little blue men, for that matter. It's all in my head."

Finally, I could see my house up ahead. I walked gratefully up the path to my house and entered with a sigh. "Honey, I'm home!" I said. "Did you have an good day, dear?" my wife asked.

"Boring. But on the way home I had some unusual encounters and amazing conversations!

But it was all in my head."