A Close Encounter Of The Weird Kind

Bill leaned sideways on the sofa, a slow migration to the left, which he was unaware of until he fell on Dave.

“Whoa, man, get yer bearings dude, maintain.”

“Wha…? Oh, right. Sorry man. I think I need another bong hit.”

Loading the bowl and tamping it down he looked around for the lighter, frowned, and then realized it was in his hand. He took a righteous hit. The sound of the water bubbling reminding him of boiling water, which, in turn reminded him of mac and cheese starting his salivary glands working overtime. He collapsed backwards onto the cushions, a glob of drool running down the corner of his mouth.

He made an attempt to figure out what they were watching on the television then decided it was all shit anyway and let his eyeballs wander. The humidity hung in the air like wet laundry and the breeze from the ancient fan did little to mitigate the torpor into which they had descended, helped along by herbal magic.

The drone of the television was the stage upon which Bill’s eyelids migrated south until something buzzing around his head brought annoyance to the fore. He waved it away but it was not to be denied. At last it landed on his arm his eyes rallied to focus on it. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

There amidst his arm hairs was a tiny space ship with tripod legs. As he gazed in wide wonder the top flipped open and a miniscule alien popped it’s head up and gave him a winning smile.

“What the…”

“Salutations. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

Bill’s lips refused cooperation, lacking input from the brain.

“No matter, names are unimportant. Where am I? What planet is this?”

“Oh wow man.”

“Ohwowman? Right then. I’ll get straight to the point. I am the emissary of a race far more advanced than your own. I have chosen to appear in miniature form for reasons beyond your ability to comprehend. We are looking for a new planet to colonize. We like what we see here.”

Bill nodded, though the high-pitched voice and strange string of words were not registering.

“Would you be kind as to put me in contact with whoever is in charge of this planet?”

“Dude, what the fuck are you on about?”

The alien cocked its head and considered. “I’m sorry, I’m not able to understand your idioms. Could you please rephrase?”

“What? Are you for real?”

“Again, I am at a lose. Do you not see me?”

Bill shook his head. That last bong hit was the el supremeo for sure. His hand began inching along the sofa as he spotted a utensil out of the corner of his eye.

“Um, well yeah…”

“Resistance to our plans is futile, your race is much too far behind us on the evolutionary scale. You would do well to direct me to the being I need to discuss terms of surrender with.”

Bill glanced over at Dave who was sawing logs. He tried to concentrate but the fog was thick. There seemed to be only one option and thinking it over didn’t seem to be a good idea.

“Um, listen, dude, I don’t think that whole thing is gonna work out for you, you know?”

“My but you’re thick. Are you more impeded than others of your species?”

“Hey, was that like, an insult?”

His hand moved as if of its own accord. He grabbed the electric fly swatter and brought it down on his interrogator in one fluid motion, the thing on his arm disappearing in a blue puff of smoke.

“Wha…?”, Dave had returned to something passing for consciousness and was giving Bill a quizzical look.

“Dude, you are not gonna believe this! I just saved the earth from enslavement by aliens!”

“Awesome man. What game is that?”

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