NEW YORKERS UNFAZED BY INVASION: “YEAH, YEAH, WE’VE SEEN WEIRDER”
Commuters step over disintegrator beams to catch morning train; bodega cats remain unimpressed
NEW YORK, NY – While the rest of the world watched in horror as massive alien motherships descended upon Manhattan Friday morning, New Yorkers responded with their trademark indifference, treating the extraterrestrial invasion as just another Friday inconvenience ranking somewhere between subway delays and street construction.
The invasion began at precisely 7:47 AM during rush hour, when three colossal ships materialized above Times Square, Central Park, and the Brooklyn Bridge. Within minutes, otherworldly beings began emerging from glowing portals, setting up disintegrator beam stations at major subway entrances and deploying what military experts are calling “reality distortion fields” throughout the five boroughs.
“I saw some green guy with tentacles vaporizing a hot dog cart, and I was like, ‘Great, now where am I gonna get my breakfast?'” said Maria Gonzalez, 34, a financial analyst from Queens who witnessed the initial assault while waiting for the N train. “I’ve lived here fifteen years. Last week it was that guy who rides the subway naked playing the accordion. Before that, it was those street performers who juggle flaming garbage. This is New York – weird stuff happens.”
The aliens, who appear to be a species of seven-foot-tall beings with multiple eyes and what witnesses describe as “really aggressive body language,” have established command posts at several iconic locations. Their advanced technology includes hovering surveillance drones, energy weapons that can melt steel, and translation devices that somehow make everything they say sound vaguely threatening in a thick Brooklyn accent.
Yet perhaps the most remarkable aspect of this unprecedented invasion isn’t the aliens’ superior technology or their apparent hostile intentions – it’s the complete lack of panic among New York’s 8.3 million residents.
At Grand Central Station, commuters were observed stepping over crackling disintegrator beams while checking their phones, apparently more concerned about their morning meetings than the possibility of molecular annihilation. Several businesspeople were spotted arguing with alien sentries about train delays, with one woman reportedly telling a creature, “Listen buddy, I don’t care if you’re from Zeta Reticuli, you’re blocking the downtown platform.”
Dr. Harold Kleinman, a sociologist at Columbia University who specializes in urban behavioral patterns, believes New Yorkers’ reaction stems from years of conditioning to urban chaos.
“After decades of surviving everything from blackouts to blizzards to that period when everyone was obsessed with cronuts, New Yorkers have developed what I call ‘apocalypse immunity,'” Kleinman explained. “They’ve seen it all. Alien invasion? Please. Half these people lived through the 1970s. This is nothing.”
The city’s famous bodega cats have proven equally unimpressed by their new extraterrestrial neighbors. Security footage from a Midtown convenience store shows Chairman Meow, a notorious orange tabby known for his hostile attitude toward customers, maintaining his usual spot atop the lottery ticket display even as alien scouts ransacked the store for what appeared to be energy drinks and beef jerky.
Mayor Eric Adams held a press conference at City Hall, flanked by what appeared to be two alien officials wearing “VISITOR” badges, announcing that the invasion would be treated as “a cultural exchange program with enhanced security protocols.” When asked about reports of citizens being abducted for experimentation, Adams dismissed concerns, noting that “people disappear in New York all the time – at least now we know where some of them went.”
The MTA announced that while several subway lines would experience delays due to “interdimensional interference,” service would continue as normal, because “honestly, the aliens can’t make the trains run any worse than they already do.”
Local businesses have already begun adapting to their new reality. Pizza shops are advertising “Galaxy Supreme” slices, while souvenir vendors near Ground Zero have begun selling “I Survived the Invasion” t-shirts at inflated tourist prices.
The characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is unintentional and purely coincidental.
