In 1978, a professor and two wacky Midwestern teens witness a remarkable finding. A worldwide computer network delivers an image from their new space telescope, and they discover proof that aliens once visited our solar system.

Soon, they're in more trouble than a gopher at a rattlesnake convention. Little did they know that these sneaky extraterrestrials are back again. Their Open Mankind Foundation Governance is plotting to prepare the world for the "New Galactic Arrangement". Worse, they're not the only spacefaring schemers out to subvert our unsuspecting planet.

The professor disappears, a victim of a mysterious kidnapping. The FBI hunts down the prime suspects, the nerdy junior scientist and Pleasantville High's star linebacker. A task force of Russian commandoes tracks down the jock's girlfriends. However, things aren't quite what they seem. The teens become embroiled in a web of conspiracies, beginning a deplorably politically incorrect cosmic adventure.

Who can be trusted? Which scheming aliens will spring the trap first, imposing their brand of despotism upon the world like the humans they've exploited before? Can the youths get back home before the history exam?

Alternate history was never wackier

Inside the disguised paddy wagon, the boys could hear the gas station attendant grumbling. "What a cheapskate! I try upsell more octanes, and al kelibah get all women's liberation on me. Everybody tell me, streets are paved with gold here. Was a lie! I hate America!"

Ozzy banged on the side. "Help us! Please! We're Ozzy Cerebrum and Biff Holzhauer, from Pleasantville, Nebraska."

"And I am Saddam Hussein from Tikrit, Iraq. So what?"

The heat is on

"When I come back, you better be ready to tell me everything. Time's running out. Oh, Biff also thinks you iced a couple of girls from school today. If you have something to get off your chest about them, you might want to do that before you get the death penalty. Do the names Elizabeth and Bernice ring a bell?

"Jeepers! I wonder what Franz Kafka would have to say about this?"

He wrote down the name. "We'll be investigating him too. Now look - if your fellow conspirators kill Thornberg before we can find him, then you're gonna get an accessory charge. That, my friend, is a ticket straight to Old Sparky."

Will the nerd survive a hot date with the cute little maneater from space?

He heard a honeyed voice from the other side. "Ozzy? Are you in?" He kept silent. Then there was a click as the lock disengaged. Chills went up his spine. La belle dame sans merci peered in at the doorway.

He gasped; Lilly was more beautiful than ever, positively radiant. She was wearing a diaphanous negligée, scarlet with black fringes. He greeted her nervously, "Oh, hi."

Behold the 1970s at its cheesiest

"Normally I'm not much for wild speculations, but I've heard some interesting stories about them."

"I'm not sure. I'm probably imagining things about the G-men, but those kids seemed a little strange. I noticed that their breath wasn't foggy in the cold weather like ours. They seemed really stiff too. What's even screwier is that their van was the same model as the one at the scene of the crime."

"I saw that too. It didn't have 'Fish' written on the side. Instead it was marked 'Baloney'. How about that?"

John Holmes nodded. "This is one weird smuggling outfit. Anyway, I wonder why Wallace is having so much trouble cracking down on high-level corruption. Back in the day, Nixon was doing a better job dealing with organized crime. It seems there's some funny stuff happening at the top levels of government. What do you think?"

"Tell you what. I say we take the Chief's advice and forget all this happened. There's no dead Arab, no pond with a couple of cadavers, no fish truck, and the only thing hauling baloney is your trousers."

"Come on, must we? I feel so objectified!"