Page 6.You go home and sleep it off, because you're a total buzzkill and kind of a pussy. You later buy a Subaru and eventually die in your sleep. That's it. That's what your stupid life was.
You know who you are in this picture? No, not the rad, high-waisted kid ramming a console into tiny Ferenghi. No, you're the old man, actively regretting the chances he never took as he gazes into his own impending mortality.
Page 7.You barrel headfirst into the aqua light of the alien craft, all the while screaming quotes from what you think is probably Die Hard. "Welcome to the party, pal!" you bellow, charging. "LORP." Squawks the surprised alien, his beady little rat-eyes reflecting terror and yet, somehow, also an exotic kind of wisdom. He is hunched low, dressed in a bizarre spacesuit, and his face is covered in impossibly fine hairs.Â "LORP DOP." "Whoa, fucker. We speak English in this country," you begin, but you see only kindness in his tiny slit eyes. He extends his hand to you... If you shake his hand in kindly greetings, turn to page 8. If you are overwhelmed by fraternal love (and enough LSD to give God a body high) and instead opt to hug him desperately, turn to page 9.
Page 8You go to clasp his hand in greeting, but due to your injury, you end up slapping him somewhat jovially in what is probably the crotch area. He leaps back in surprise, bashing his head on the control panel... and launching the ship through space!
Page 9.Congratulations. You totally gayed up first contact. The alien returns the hug just a little too hard, and as you break away--giving him the "we're just bros here" pat on the back before disengaging--it seizes onto you. Two hours later, you are running through the city park, the alien hot on your heels making a slurping kind of belch that you assume to be "kissy noises."
Also, the pink cleavage-accentuating decor on your spacesuit isn't helping any...In terror and desperation, you fling everything you have at it, attempting to slow the being. Unfortunately, it assumes these to be courting gifts, and merely pursues you more vigorously in response. You find yourself cornered. There is no exit. Perhaps your pants and underwear should have been the last thing you threw, you think in retrospect, as you frantically attempt to tie a makeshift noose out of the tail of a furious stray cat. It goes poorly, to say the least.
Page 10.Your eyes dim and blur, but when they refocus you find the ship has come to a halt. No sign of the alien is to be found. The door is still open from your entrance, and from it you attempt to examine your surroundings, but they are simply incomprehensible! A myriad of images shimmers and twists before you--now the familiar onion-domes of Moscow besieged by robots, now a shimmering sea of mercury skated upon by angels, now not even a place but a resonance of sound, thick with emotion--and you realize it must not have stopped at all. You must be shifting through inter-dimensional space! Suddenly, something leaps through the doorway! It's a vampire!
Page 11.I know, right? That's pretty crazy. Turn to page 12.
"WHAT THE FUCKING SPACE VAMPIRE!?"You hurtle yourself with absolutely no forethought into the emerging vampiric form. He screams in surprise and pain as you make contact, and both of you tumble from the doorway, somersaulting through Nth dimensional insanity. The worlds smear as you fly by them with ever-increasing speed. A vertigo takes hold of your mind, and your vision extends to infinite space. As your perception of time slows to a crawl, you catch sight of an image through the cosmic mist, and latch onto it. The image resolves slowly, and though you know you are perfectly still, you feel as though you are traveling somehow. The image is of a being with beady, slit-like eyes, its face a mesh of impossibly fine hairs... In his visage, you find yourself drawn away - away and down - away and waxing a way a- When you awake, the alien is holding your hand and muttering to you in his indecipherable language. You know you should not--it is everything your strict father, ever the macho marine, forbade you--but you lean forward to kiss him out of sheer gratitude. It is unlike a kiss that could be performed by man, and pleasures heretofore unknown to human life wrack your body like a series of beautiful sobs. This moment is an eon-long orgasm of tranquility, culminating in the utmost contentment of the heart.
Page 13You pull yourself away, loss and regret immediately seizing your heart like a vice made out of punches to the dick. You look the alien dead in the eye, attempting to communicate, through sheer will, your eternal gratitude for this moment, but your wounded arm flips out, and you slap him on neck instead. Your hand barely makes contact, skipping across his chest and settling on his shoulder. Turn to page 14
Page 14The alien pulls away from you, offended, and motions to the door. You try to explain, but the look in its eyes is of such heartbreak that you know you cannot. You exit through the portal, and find yourself emerging into a crowd of stunned onlookers. Their jaws are agape, and the expression of awe on their faces as they watch you disembark from the shuddering vessel is nothing short of religious. You wave to them, signaling that everything is going to be okay...
"I have returned! To wave at nothing!"And that's when the security guard tackles you. "It's okay, I've been beyond," you explain, but he's far too busy rapidly and furiously tasering your inexplicably naked body to listen. "Drop kick me, motherfucker?! I'm takin' you down to Tasertown!" He screams, despite the presence of a great deal of children on what appears to be a fifth grade field trip. Later, at the trial, as you are brought up on charges of breaking and entering at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, indecent exposure to minors, vandalizing the Lunar Lander, assaulting the security guard and sexually molesting the night janitor, your explanations fall on deaf ears. "But it wasn't a man... it was a-a thing! It had little beady, slit eyes and these tiny, disgusting hairs and... and we did stuff! Weird, beautiful stuff!" you begin to plead, but are interrupted by the sudden, violated sobs of the elderly Chinese man on the witness stand, whose thin beard looks impossibly fine in this light, come to think of it...
Find Robert on Twitter, Facebook and his own site, I Fight Robots. Or continue the story by turning to page 15.
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