Sigourney Weaver Called on to Attack Mother of Fourteen Kids

LOS ANGELES, CA – Sigourney Weaver once strapped on a flame-thrower and descended on a long elevator ride to wage holy war with a slimy, acid-spewing monster queen amid her seething nest of human killing machines. She ended up blasting egg, fetus and toddler demon into a broiling soup of neutralized evil, while shoving big mama out of an airlock and into outer space. Now she is being asked by the U.S. Department of Defense to repeat the performance at a little house in Southern California where a thirty-three-year-old woman, Nadya Suleman, is ensconced with her fourteen hissing children, eight of which she just gave birth to in a Faustian deal with a fertility doctor who had implanted the eight embryos only if Nadya would agree to sew a button back on his new Oxford shirt.

“The situation in L.A. has reached a crisis point,” said new Secretary of Defense, Robert Gates. “The mother of the fertile queen monster is named Angela, and she is trapped inside that den of poop, urine and enough blaring cartoon programs to lower the collective IQ of California by ten points – and that, my fellow Americans, is saying a lot. Angela has been in contact with us through a hole in the house left by the oldest of the incubi when its forked tail pierced the drywall. She says that there are dozens of more pods in the hatching room just weeks away from bringing forth more sloppy financial black holes to help wreck the infrastructure of a state already facing Armageddon. But thank God for Sigourney Weaver.”

Of late, Sigourney Weaver has been battling – not her old nemesis, the murky Aliens – but rather foes to the Earth’s habitat, for instance deep-sea trawlers and the private jets of environmentalists such as Al Gore and Leo DiCaprio. She is well aware that the queen beast, Nadya Suleman, is in the midst of launching an attack on the environment more insidious than anything since Karl Rove exhaled his noxious breath onto a Redwood.

“The carbon footprint of this burgeoning brood will far exceed the King Kong-sized carbon footprint of all the petroleum companies in the world,” said Weaver, while in the middle of a training session that included trying to convince a thick-skulled woman that introducing fourteen unmanageable kids into a world already overtaxing Earth’s natural resources and the inane limits of Facebook is a crime no different than dropping an H-Bomb on L.A. – well, she added, “maybe that would be just a misdemeanor, but you get my point, missy.”

Weaver took a break from talking to a human forehead with the same level of sentience as a granite block covered with misspelled graffiti. She wiped her face with a towel, and then reached for a M203 grenade launcher. “True,” she said, while handling the weapon, “I will attempt to talk sense into that ignorant monster woman, but, if history is any indication, I’m going to be left no choice but to go in there with guns blazing – for America and the Earth!”

At that point, she turned and aimed the gun at a dummy model of a self-satisfied, crazy looking mother of fourteen mouthing the recorded words, “All I ever wanted was to have children.”

“Yeah, lady,” said Weaver, “I’ve heard that before…on planet LV-four-two-six…And we all know what I did to that queen bitch!” Then she fired the grenade launcher, and that stopped the recording.