The cemetery was full of gravestones, as most cemeteries are. But no one could’ve imagined what had been buried under the unmarked gravestone in the overgrown corner of the lot. Rumor has it that 45 years ago there were several sightings of an unexplained crash landing in our small town. The day after the crash, Army tanks and helicopters arrived in the area and began searching, but workers said they found nothing and left quickly. Since then, everyone in town has believed there is an ALIEN SPACECRAFT buried in that corner of our cemetery.

So I decided to go and dig up the grave. YES, I know that’s illegal, BUT my dad is a cop, so I hoped he could cut me some slack. By the way, my name is Clarence Clarencen. I KNOW! It’s a very weird name, but that’s enough about me. Let’s get to planning. Step one: sneaking out. Step two: breaking into the mausoleum. Step three: two words…dig-ging (oh wait, that’s one word). Never mind, let’s go!

At midnight…I’m finally ready, so I hop on my bike and set out toward the cemetery. It’s raining outside, and to make matters worse, I see my dad’s cop car driving down the street. This is gonna be harder than I thought! It’s only a couple of blocks to the graveyard, and I make it there without being seen and… THE SHOVEL! I forgot the shovel! Oh my gosh, how could I have forgotten the most important part of the plan?!

I need a new strategy, pronto! I could either go home soaking wet from the rain to get the shovel, or I could stay here and dig with my bare hands. I’m gonna go home. I get back to my house and see the (amazing) shovel propped up against a wall in my garage. I quickly grab it and go, but I accidentally run straight into my dad! I’m so grounded! But instead of sending me to my room, he asks me to explain what I’m up to. I tell him and then, to my surprise, he says he wants to help me! “Are you sure?” I ask. “Yeah, I’m sure, I’ve wanted to do this since I was your age,” my dad says without hesitation.

My dad and I set off in his cop car (with the shovel) toward the graveyard. When we get there, it’s already 1 a.m., which is (very) late for me, so we decide to do it as quickly as we can. My dad easily boosts me over the graveyard wall and then climbs over the wall like it’s nothing. We run to find the unmarked gravestone in the back corner. We see a grave with vines, leaves, and all sorts of plants all over it, so we sprint toward it. (Well, my dad does. I kinda just waddle.) Dad starts digging while I keep watch. He digs for what seems like hours, until finally he hits something…something hard! I was super excited and really scared. What if there is an alien? What if it is alive? What if it doesn’t want to be disturbed? All these “what ifs” pop up in my head, but it’s all going to be all right. I’m just digging up a grave. That’s fine…right? NO, this is not all right. I’m doing illegal things, and my dad’s in on it. HE COULD LOSE HIS JOB! We need to go home! But it’s too late—my dad has disappeared!

Wait…what is that sound? I look in the grave hole and I see my dad shaking hands, actually tentacles, with an alien who is sitting on top of a small spaceship! I can’t believe it. The rumors were true. There’s been an alien living underground a couple of blocks from my house for years! WHAT?!

I take a photo with Zorfaloogaloo (that’s the alien’s name) and post it on my dad’s social media. Wait…that means my mom will find out about my dad and me sneaking out. OH NO!