The Mants

By Laura Glick

He came. He saw them. He took them.

On a quiet sunny afternoon on the University of Calgary campus, all was well, until… suddenly, a bright flash blinded all the students and a thundering crack sent us to our knees.

Stepping forward from the blistering ray of neon yellow light, a strange creature emerged in front of the Prairie Chicken. He was a mutant of some sort, half man, half ant. With a booming voice he commanded that we bring all our females to him immediately. Stunned and blinded, we sat motionless, unable to comprehend the ugliness before us.

"Now!" he yelled. "The abject complacency of post-secondary students who are already subjected to institutionalized brainwashing makes them ripe for the picking!"

Slowly it was becoming clear. He was a MANT! Arriving in 1996 from the Planet-X, this garage-rock trio had been pumping out energetic numbers dedicated to women and sweet food.

As I realized what was going on, he approached. It was Andy Mant! The guitarist and vocalist who arrived and was preying on students. His entourage of bassist Randy Mant and drummer Johnny Mant were nowhere to be seen.

"We have scheduled a meeting with the entire faculty of management, and will be introducing them to the business ends of our Mant-o-matic Deluxe-Zap Pistols," Andy said with a evil laugh.

As we shrank in horror at the thought, I tried to run away. It was a futile attempt , however, as Andy jumped down the hill and knocked me to the ground.

"No!" I screamed. "Why are you doing this? Are you angry?"

As he pointed his raygun at my head, he growled back.

"No. In fact, your feeble attempts at technology and your Dukes of Hazard provide us with much amusement." Confused, I began to search ferverently for a chance to get away. Suddenly, I began to feel dizzy and my vision was getting blurry.

"Why does my head hurt?" I asked.

Laughing, he bent closer and whispered:

"The banana clip directing your hair follicles is refracting our mind-controlling rays and is causing your braces to oscillate at a frequency that is unsuitable for human tissue," he said menacingly. "Don’t worry, the pain will go away once your head explodes."

Before I could utter a response, I began to shake violently and felt a strange ripping sensation around my neck. I tried to scream, but instead I heard a pop and felt blood gushing down my body. My head was tearing away from my body!

Andy laughed uproarisly as my severed head rolled down the walk towards the library. As my braces hit the concrete repeatedly, sparks began to fly. I was going to blow up!

Luckily Andy swooped down and picked up my head.

"I’m holding this for ransom," he bellowed. " Until I receive the Faculty of Nursing, Laura’s head will be mine."

Please rescue my head from the evil Mant overlords! Run to the Night Gallery on Sat., Nov. 27 and stop the Mants from world domination as they deliver mind-controlling riffs along with the Von Zippers and the Forty Fives. Hurry!!!

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