For a few moments, I stared at the empty lab tables, the computer equipment glowing and flashing on their surfaces, but then I blinked again and I found myself back in Big Bird's strange nest, surrounded by eggs presumably containing the face hugging larvae of our very young.

It was sometime in the early morning. I caught a glimpse of the cop walking by, but I ducked down before he could see me.

Big Bird's nest contained strange books like Green Eggs and Ham, the Cat In The Hat and Georgie the Ghost, which we took turns reading aloud. We played Scrabble, which I seldom won, and she taught me how to write a few basic words and sentences on a little chalkboard.

All of a sudden, the cop, who had secretly been spying on us this whole time, disappeared right in front of my eyes.

I was hiding in the nest, waiting for him to leave, when he just sort of vanished into thin air, the way my mom tended to appear and vanish in this strange alternate universe.

My friend unhooked her body from the egg laying organ, and she led me to a flower shop to buy something nice for Maria.

I, of course, had no money, but Big Bird's credit was good, so we took some traditional white flowers to a graveyard full of religiously ambiguous monuments, laying them in front of a tombstone.

Once the functions of these objects were explained enough for me to understand, I coughed and sneezed out my grief, Big Bird comforting me.

Big Bird's information about the practice of giving gifts to the dead inspired me to also do something meaningful. I laid my quilt on the tombstone and said I was sorry.

Big Bird asked if I said this to her or Maria, but I didn't know.

We left there, wandering around Sesame Street, introducing ourselves to the various puppets that lived in the buildings, the yellow and orange puppets dwelling in the basement of Maria's building, one fixated on rubber water toys, the red `Elmo' that lived above a firehouse, and `Prairie Dawn', a girl puppet descended from Omney and Erasmus.

The concept of a `Fire House' was a difficult thing for me to understand, requiring much explaining and interpretation for me to finally grasp the concept. I had not witnessed much fire in my life, only the small flames caused my human cooking and heating equipment at their research station, and a blaze pouring out a pipe in one of the corridors that almost killed me when I made the mistake of getting too close.

Apparently humans form clans for the sole purpose of eliminating conflagration. The vehicle that came out of their building was loud, its siren injurious to my eardrums.

During the course of our tour through the neighborhood, I of course made peace with Bob. I had to. With Big Bird helping me translate, I explained how sorry I was, how I missed Maria, and the guilt I felt. He petted me then, and things got patched up as well as could be imagined, maybe more so because I didn't occupy a real world.

When the sky grew dark, we returned to Big Bird's nest for more English lessons.

Honestly, I'd been having English lessons the whole day, from various puppets. One time a crazy vampire puppet even taught me how to say numbers.

But now Big Bird gave me a little book, telling me to write a few sentences about myself.

I basically wrote what you've just read, but in the simple undisciplined language of a child, a barely readable mishmash of words without punctuation. Still, the result pleased both myself and Big Bird.

At the time, I only wrote six sentences, but the labor took the better part of an hour, due to my language difficulty.

When we closed the book, I asked Big Bird a question that I'd been hesitating to ask the moment he mentioned the topic. "Big Bird, are you afraid of death?"

She froze. "Yes. I am programmed with this function."

"But you are not alive. You are a machine. You should not be afraid of anything."

Big Bird fell silent for a moment. "This is true."

"What would happen if I did not believe you were scared of death?"

"My programming would disagree with you."

"What happens if you disagree with your programming?"

Pause. "I do not know. I could be erased from Sesame Time."

"Would that be a bad thing?"

Blank stare. "I do not know."

"Are you afraid of being erased?"

Again, he froze. "No. That is not the programmed definition of death."

"Big Bird, would you allow yourself to be erased if it were for something important enough?"

Big Bird nodded his head slowly. "Yes."

"Big Bird, I need you to explain why Christians give. What motivates them in this action?"

When Big Bird did not respond right away, I added, "Please. It's important."

Big Bird leaned forward, pressing her facial dome to mine, tail lowered, a customary pleading gesture. "This action cannot be undone. It is possible you will never see me again. Are you sure you wish to proceed?"

"Big Bird. You are a friend. A good friend. Maybe my best and only friend I've had since mother, but you're a machine. You're not real. If you cease to exist, I will miss you, but you will live on in my memory, just like Maria."

Big Bird bowed her head deeply, cleared her throat. "The underlying motive behind Christian giving is to imitate the selfless actions of the founder..."

She didn't get to say more. The moment he said `founder', she was gone.

"No!" I cried. "No no no no no!"

For a moment, I threw a tantrum, but then focused really hard on remembering Big Bird, and she popped back into existence.

"You have graduated," she said.

"What?" I muttered in bewilderment, but Big Bird made no answer. She only stood like a statue for a few moments, then vanished again.

Horrified and stunned, I just stared vacantly into the alleyway as her words resonated in my head. `You have graduated.'

The next event was like a man flipping switches at a fuse box, except, instead of making everything dark, he made things vanish.

Boom. And an entire building disappeared, then a brick wall.

Another fuse boomed off, and distant trees and buildings winked out of existence.

Boom boom boom. More and more of the world disappeared, the void growing closer and closer to the nest.

I heard another boom, and everything earthly vanished from Big Bird's alley and it was just me among eggs in the Pale Ones' spaceship, with grandma hooked to a fidsvsardissar, and it became more of a dream than the solid illusion I had been inhabiting for so long.

I let out a mournful wail, gazing dully at the little restraint that had trapped me on that lab table for so long.

The giant long haired face appeared in front of me once more. "Hi little guy! How did you like Sesame Time?"

I sighed. "I miss Big Bird."

The words did not exit my mouth as easily as they had in that other world. The letters B and P required human lips to fully form the sound, so it came out sounding like "Dig Durd." Still, it made him laugh and clap his hands in delight.

"Kurt!" he hollered to his friend. "Come over here! You've got to see this!" (16)

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(16) This ends the major Sesame Street section (and its associated alternate text). The rest of the changes will be merely to the Alien Big Bird, switching out the name, etc.