I’m driving down the highway, singing along with Bea Miller under my breath (Don’t judge!) when suddenly, I see a fleet of SUVs appear in my rearview.  I reach up and adjust the mirror, my brow wrinkling in suspicious puzzlement.  They zoom up to me—holy balls there’s dozens of them—and I hear a megaphonic voice boom…

I’ve won a sweepstakes to tour the now-defunct Area 51.  Our guide is walking us through sterile-looking warehouse bays and hangar areas, showing us nothing of note.  I excuse myself from the group to use the bathroom.  I end up getting lost, then wander into a dank, musty cell.  In the dim light that reflects…