Invasion Of The Blubberbogs

I visited Paynes Creek Historic Park in Bowling Green, Florida to see what was there. Little did I know that it would be the last park I would visit for over 100 years.

First, I walked along Paynes Creek all the way to Peace River. There wasn’t much to see but a few birds and some fungi. However, I did come across this ancient, crumbling, time portal generator. It was inoperative. I wondered who had put it there.

Then, I turned around and walked the historic trail to the bridge. I saw a rabbit and an ibis. From the top of the bridge, I could see numerous fish over one side and some long weeds over the other. I then walked through the treetops until I reached the other side of the creek.

A bit further down, at the edge of a cattle pasture, was the monument. It was dedicated to George Payne, who was killed by the Seminole in 1849.

I took a picture, but somehow this action triggered some sort of mechanism within to generate a temporal well. I was pulled into the past – to the very evening mentioned – along with everyone else in history up to that point who had taken a photo. Suddenly, we were attacked. It was a massacre!

I was the only one to escape the Seminole, which I did by donning my invisibility mesh I had brought with me. It was several months before I had acclimated myself to old Florida. It was then that I returned to the area with supplies enough to build a time portal generator. I was never able to get it to work. The materials needed simply didn’t exist in 1849.

I finally accepted that I was only to return to the future the long way round. I lived out my days mostly in Florida, but also travelled to New York and California. I even visited Europe and mentored young Max Plank and young Albert Einstein. I marched with MLK. I made a fortune on Microsoft stock.

Eventually, I noticed that no one had yet built the monument that had so drastically changed my life. Not wanting to create a paradox that could unravel all of history, I decided that I had better build it. Then I waited.

On the day I drove to the park, I followed far behind my younger self on my motorcycle. I parked outside the park so I would not be recognized and cut through the woods to lie in wait near the monument. I waited. At last, I saw myself arrive. He walked around the monument, took a picture, and disappeared!

Picking up where he left off, I decided to continue exploring the park. Why not? I might have been responsible for the portal and the monument, but there was supposed to be a fort here. It was the reason for the park. I hadn’t built a fort. Who had? And where was it?

I continued to explore. I saw flowers. I saw plants. I saw a tree that turned red when injured. I saw lubber grasshopper babies.

I don’t know what this is. Some sort of nest? I knocked, but no one answered.

I pushed deeper and deeper into the woods and away from civilization. Few ever went this far. That was when I saw the blue.

Someone or something was reforming the biosphere to suit them. Was it aliens? Was this the reason for the fort? An excuse for having the park? Did they build the park to keep away the prying eyes of developers while they remade the forest to resemble those of their home planet?

In addition to its mutagenic properties, this bluish substance was highly caustic. It even melted right through this log!

I continued to walk in circles, looking for the culprits. At last, I found them! The stenchcrust blubberbogs of Morbidum-5!

Lumpy

Nine-Eyes

Toasty

Sawblade

I chased them, but they got away. One gurgled something about returning to the fort. I had to find that fort! After searching the entire park, I came to an empty clearing. There was nothing but sand. Nearby was a plaque explaining that archeologists in 1982 had discovered remains of a wooden structure, but that it was gone now.

Yeah right! There was never any fort here! Obviously, it was just a cover story for the aliens’ spacecraft, which was by then light years away, their plans at world building failed.

I visited the history center for more information. Who were these Seminole? I learned that they were wild people that appropriated the cultural dress styles of Scotsmen who were eventually “cancelled” in the third Seminole war. History repeats.

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