Page 79 of All You Need is Alien Love
“We are a most excellent duo,” he enthuses.
“We are… the two amigos!” I declare.
I really kind of want to teach him “My Little Buttercup” as our victory song, but have to remind myself—time and place, River.
“Let’s leave these schmucks here. We’ll come back to deal with them later.”
Nirblob grins evilly. “Indeed, the Groxil slime will keep them here for quite some time.”
It’s my turn to preen. “My idea was pretty brilliant, wasn’t it?”
“Quite ingenious,” he agrees.
“Well, you learn a thing or two after defeating a Groxil. Twice, might I add.” When I had pitched the idea to them, the Intergalactic Alliance was ready and willing to ship us an impressive quantity of synthetic Groxil slime.
We didn’t ask questions about why they had such copious amounts of the snot-like substance so readily available, but Nirblob encased the slime into gelatinous shells, similar to those used for paint balls. It makes them easy to handle for those of us using the weapons. There were a few folks early on who got a bit too excited and accidentally burst a slime ball or two during training. They learned to be gentler when loading their pistols after they had to have portions of their upper bodies unfrozen.
Nirblob reaches into his bag and hands me my own Slime-O-Matic Paralyticator—that name willneverget old for me—and I pocket the super cool Iyaran dueling knife.
“Let’s go help the others and save my boo,” I declare.
Hang in there, Kai, I’m coming.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Spill the TEA: Trustworthy Earthling Advice
Issue 12
Thanks for all the relaxation suggestions from last time! I’m looking forward to trying a bunch of them out. First on my list is the aerial yoga recommendation. I can already picture myself performing graceful maneuvers in the air like I’m trying out for Cirque du Soleil!
Now, onto our critical issue of the day… is there anything “real” in reality TV?
Dear Dr. TEA,
As a recent visitor on Earth, I became quite fascinated by the media phenomenon of what you Earthlings call “reality TV.” It took me a while to realize the label is, of course, a bit of a misnomer. There is very little that is “real” about these shows, and yet the illusion of realness is quite compelling. Oddlyaddictive even. A show about wealthy housewives spending money, living lavishly, and bickering among their fake friend group shouldn’t be so entertaining—and yet it’s hard to stop watching. I do not know the Kardashians, and yet I too found myself wanting to keep up with them after watching a few episodes.
As an intergalactic entrepreneur, I see real—no pun intended—potential in this bizarre genre of human media! It’s something I could share with the rest of the universe, and I think you would make a most fascinating subject for a show pitched toward an intergalactic audience. I can picture it now—we could document your life as a half-human, half-extraterrestrial working for the Alliance on Earth, being married to an Iyaran, and keeping the aliens safe while they live incognito in Las Vegas. Oh, and let’s not forget, your beloved fictional efforts as well. We could have a viral intergalactic hit on our hands—and tentacles. What do you say?
Yours Truly,
Ready to Rock Intergalactic Reality TV with You
Dear Ready to Rock,
Reality television is a distinctly odd human invention, that’s for sure. I tend to prefer more of the competition variety shows in that vein:Project Runway,RuPaul’s Drag Race,The Great British Baking Show, and so on. Part of the fascination, as your comments noted, seems to relate to the voyeuristic nature of some of these shows and what they pretend to offer us—namely, a sneak peek into the private lives of other people, and often ones who are far wealthier or more famous than us.
That said, I’m deeply flattered by your proposal but I prefer to keep my private life private. Or, as much as I realistically can. But never fear, I’m sure there are other folks in the universe who would gladly take you up on a similar offer. Good luck!
Sashaying away with realness,
Dr. TEA
River
When we finally enter thebase, we’re immediately surrounded by the violent and chaotic energy of an ongoing battle.
I hit pay dirt when I spy Aiden and Roxy crouched behind some strategically positioned titanium storage crates, Slime-O-Matic Paralyticators in their hands. Roxy’s eyes brighten when she sees me, and she uses a free hand to urge me over.
