“LA is yesterday?” President Elena Jones asked her chief of staff, Dawn Green.

     “Yes, Madame President.  We've cloaked it to protect it from the Zillabee Invaders from the 5^th Galaxy of Trojetz.”

     “Tell me again.  Why are they only interested in LA, Dawn?”

     “As far as we can ascertain from the communications we've received, Madame President, they want Hollywood.”

     “I don't understand.  What do you mean, ‘they want Hollywood'?”

     “Again as all our security agents have informed us, they want to control it.  Make the movies they want.  Use their people for all the roles.  Spread their propaganda through the entertainment industry in a subliminal method you may have heard about many years ago.”

     “That sounds really crazy, Dawn.  How long can the cloak on the city stay in place?”

     “Not indefinitely, for sure.  Perhaps for at least a few days, though.”

     “What then?”

     “You tell me, Madame President.  How do you want to handle this situation from here on in?”

     “What have our Intergalactic Advisors suggested?”

     “Actually, they've been all but mute on the subject.  Perhaps it's time for you to contact Leader Joaquin yourself.”

     “Yes, Dawn, I suppose that's a reasonable next step.  Open the appropriate links to his base on Saturn as soon as possible.”

     “I'll get on it right away, Madame President.”

     What the President and her Chief of Staff didn't know was that the Zillabees had far more sinister plans in mind than simply controlling the Hollywood studios.  They believed that was only the first step to wiping clean the minds of all the inhabitants of the country.  Their plan was to do it progressively so that no one would really notice the changes, the differences, the actual re-programming they did of the people's brains.  Actually they had already “dropped off” several directors, actors, and, most importantly, writers into the system starting as far back as the 1950s when they first infiltrated the entertainment capitol.  Purposely, they had started small.  One director in a key studio.  Then a writer in another.  An actor in another.  This way the changes would seem to come from the inside and would be generally imperceptible, especially at first.  But things would start to change little by little from couples on the screen, each marooned in a twin bed, to ones curled together on queen-sized beds, to couples giving only glancing kisses to one another to embracing with “in depth” passion, even showing some skin as time passed.  The writer “dropped off” in a certain studio accomplished the most just by a turn of a phrase, a different slant of a description, a hint of a controversial subject, until again, more and more questionable or forbidden subjects like gay and lesbian issues or anti-government sentiments could be openly portrayed and even applauded.  But now the warming-up time was over.  Seventy years was more than enough time to lay the groundwork.  They were already in 2020 with a total takeover of the entertainment industry imminent as the final step in the unobtrusive control of all of the people of the country.

       On the 5^th Galaxy of Trojetz, Command #1 telepthied his seven main Hollywood “plants” from the previous decades.  “Must penetrate cloak in LA to continue and subsequently to complete our control.  Amass directors, producers, writers, actors, actresses and the rest of their entourages necessary for making movies and by special penetration of our de-cloaking devices, send them in to inhabit the bodies of all the current people in these positions.  We, the Zillabees, WILL prevail!”

      In the states President Jones was about to confer with Leader Joaquin.  “Good to hear your voice this morning, Leader.”

     “And yours, Madame President, as well.  Why the urgent communication at this time?  You are aware, I presume, that the Intergalactic Confederation of Planets and Galaxies is meeting here on Saturn as we speak.”

     “Yes, indeed, I am, Leader Joaquin, but I couldn't wait any longer to confer with you and get your input on a pending, possibly very dangerous, situation here in the states.”

     “Yes…well, I trust your instincts, Madame President.  What exactly is your concern?”

     “We've intercepted communiqués in the past few days that indicated the Zillabee Invaders from the 5^th Galaxy of Trojetz intend to take over LA, specifically Hollywood.”

     “For what purpose?”

     “Well, we haven't determined that exactly yet but in the meantime have taken precautionary action cloaking the city.  Unfortunately, our current shield is only effective for several days at best.”

     “Just why wasn't this situation made clear to me and the Confederation before now?”

     “I was convinced by my advisors here in both houses that we had the situation under control.  Now I'm not sure at all.  I sense there's a much greater danger from the Zillabees than I or any one of my advisors here have imagined.”

     “What do you mean, you ‘sensed'?  Can't you give me facts about what's happened or in progress?  With all due respect, Madame President, we can't just go on your instincts or intuitions.”  (Under his breath he said, “This is why we have no women in power on our planet.”)

     “I am fully aware of your desire for more information, Leader, but for now that's all I can give you.  Once our cloaking mechanism gives way or, worse, is penetrated or destroyed, we're vulnerable to the Zillabees.  What do you recommend our next course of action should  be?  I prefer, of course, that whatever it is it does not involve war or any violence for that matter.”

     “Be that as you wish, Madame President, but we may be forced to bypass that preference.”

     “But, Leader Joaquin, we have been a totally peaceful country since we stopped trying to save the world in the early part of this century and reverted to our pre- World War Two status of isolationism.  Staying off to ourselves, an island to ourselves, if you will, since we are totally self-sufficient regarding all outside products today including even oil.   We do not want any group from anywhere on Earth or out in the Universe challenging our Status Quo.  It is extremely precious to us!”

     “But, Madame President, you may not have that precarious luxury any longer.  Face the facts.  Circumstances may force…”

     “Excuse me, Leader Joaquin, I have an emergency message flashing on my State of Affairs Machine.”

     “Take it, Madame President.  We'll touch base later.”

     “Fine.  Signing off for now, Leader Joaquin.”

     President Jones opened the Emergency Communication Link on her wrist computer.

     “Madame President, protective cloak over LA penetrated.  Repeat!  Urgent development.   Cloaking Device over LA penetrated.  Advise course of action immediately!”

     President Jones stared at her wrist in horror.  She had only two choices:  Do nothing and see what evolves or order an immediate attack against the Zillabees countering every advance toward non-violence and anti-war that her country had accomplished in the previous seventy years.

     After much soul-searching in the next few minutes, all her instincts told her to over-act.  She accessed her wrist connection.

     “This is President Jones.  Do NOT attack the Zillabees.  Repeat.  Do NOT attack the Zillabees.  Our stand-by robot fighters have not been activated at all since the threat of the Koryys from the 3^rd Galaxy fifteen years ago.  We need to buy time to prepare them if worst comes to worst and we are forced to retaliate.  Keep me apprised of the situation as it evolves.”

     A succinct response was forthcoming.  “As you wish, Madame President.”

     In another time/space continuum of the 5^th Galaxy of Trojetz, Commanding Warrior Par Excellance, aka CWPE, summoned his/her three top confidants, all combination-sexed like him/her, through his/her telepathic system.

     “We must remain unobserved, my friends.  No obvious or outright threats must be made to the Earthlings.  Just transport our people into the bodies of all of the Hollywood movie stars from heads to tails, that is, from tops to bottoms.  We must not make any mistakes.  Under no circumstances should we push that overly assertive woman President Jones into calling out her near-invincible robot fighters.  If we do, we're setting ourselves up and maybe even the rest of the galaxy for an all-out war.  I will not conscience that, especially when I am absolutely convinced we can infiltrate all those U.S. beings very easily before they even realize what's happened to them.”

     All of CWPE's advisors bit their tongues to remain silent during their leader's speech.  When he/she finished, though, they all tried to protest at once.  Ultimately, Ltv, his/her #2 confidant, got the floor.

     “Commanding Warrior Par Excellance, my intuition tells me that although we must consider all our options, we must choose to remain peaceful at all costs.  The U.S. President is bound to find out sooner or later what our plans are.  Then what will we do?”

     “I say we face that situation when it actually happens.  Beyond that I am not making any major decisions based on your feminine wiles at your time of the month.  Next month when your male side kicks in again, you'll most likely think totally otherwise.”

     Then #3 advisor Zpd interrupted.  “But, Commanding Warrior Par Excellance, I say we begin an all-out war for dominance immediately!  We WILL win hands down.  You know it.  I know it.  We all know it.  Those robot fighters on Planet Earth haven't even been called up for more than a decade.  They are rusty and out of practice.  Our super nano50 technology we've refined in the past two years can melt them in seconds.  Let's take them on and be done with all of them once and for all!”

     At that the #1 advisor finally decided to say his/her piece.  “It's obvious, Commanding Warrior Par Excellance, that Ltv and Zpd are caught up in their feminine or masculine monthlies as we speak.  I, on the other hand, am currently in my free month of the best rational/intuitive mix there is, so listen now to my advice.  I say we support you in a STANDOFF stance and just move our people into the Earthlings in LA.  With the minds of everyone in the movie industry taken over by our people, we can then accelerate our plans to take over those of everyone else in the country.  In the end, certainly sooner than several years, we will be total victors without any bloodshed.  It'll be like committing the Perfect Crime of Murder except we won't kill anyone.  Just take over their minds, of course, instead.”

     “Right you are, Tws!  My beliefs exactly.  That'll be all for now.  The three of you are to return immediately to the MOTL (Mind Take Over Lab) where you are to accelerate your work.  Perfect it in every conceivable way.  Allow no possibility whatsoever for any glitch in the system.  I have put all my trust in you as have all the inhabitants of our fine galaxy.  Go now and make us all proud!”

     As soon as the three dutifully left CWPE's presence, he/she activated the vibrating pin communication device hidden in his navel that only one other person in the world knew existed and had.  “I don't have ‘Par Excellance' in my title without reason,” he assured himself with a slight grin.

     “Rege.  CWPE  here.  Everything's in process.  Soon Hollywood will be ours!  Then the country!”

     An extremely deep gravelly voice bellowed in response.  “So what has taken you so long, CWPE, old man?  My associates here in Washington have been waiting patiently as long as a person here used to live in other centuries for the take-over changes you have promised.   So you're telling me we'll soon finally have all the minds of the country with a few key exceptions, of course, thinking the way we do instead of, among other things, supporting women in power!”  Then the deep-voiced man belly-laughed and continued, “I cannot wait to take control.  Total, complete control!”

     Commanding Warrior Par Excellance grinned and vowed to himself, “Over my dead body!”  Then he closed off the channel, pulled out the pin from his navel and tossed it in the trash.