How To Save The World:
Part 1 - An Alien Comedy
By
Charles Fudgemuffin
Kindle Edition 1.04B (2012)
This ebook is the first book in the ‘How To Save The World’ series of books which are available from amazon.com and amazon.co.uk.
Search ‘FUDGEMUFFIN’ in the amazon search engine.
How To Save The World
Disclaimer
Based on a true story…
Prologue - The ‘Quality Of Life’ Proposal
Part One - Earth…
Chapter One – Would You Rather?
Chapter Two – Pranks And Geordieness
Chapter Three – The Nivlax Festival
Chapter Four – The Greater Good
Chapter Five – Bad Karma
Chapter Six – ‘I Was Abducted By Aliens And They’re Going To Destroy The World’
Chapter Seven – Double Standards
Chapter Eight – Life Snides Eric Off
Chapter Nine – Happy People Don’t Question
Chapter Ten – Star Maker
Chapter Eleven – Not The End Of The World
Chapter Twelve – ‘It Can’t Be A Barrel Of Laughs…’
Chapter Thirteen – Snatching Defeat From The Jaws Of Victory
Chapter Fourteen – Self-Defence Isn’t Snidey
Chapter Fifteen – Living The Dream
Chapter Sixteen – The Plan
Chapter Seventeen – Crossing The Line
Chapter Eighteen – The Dude Who Saved The Earth
Chapter Nineteen – Last Minute Preparation
Part Two - Fem…
Chapter One – The Journey
Chapter Two – Everything Will Be Okay In The End
Chapter Three – Sniffless Times
Chapter Four – Same Same But Different
Chapter Five – The Catch-22 Solution
Chapter Six – Don’t Be An Ostrich
Chapter Seven – ‘I Can Now Reveal…’
Chapter Eight – Five Fingered Freaks
Chapter Nine – Petty Spite
Chapter Ten – Code Names
Chapter Eleven – Ants
Chapter Twelve – Betting On Brazil
Chapter Thirteen – Eric And Elskar
Chapter Fourteen – The Guilt
Chapter Fifteen – An Honest Representation Of Eric’s Feelings
Chapter Sixteen – The Magic Banana
Chapter Seventeen – Horniness Without Love Attached
Chapter Eighteen – Fear And Theories
Chapter Nineteen – How To Save The Earth
A Note From The Author
The Thanks Section
The Legal Bit
The Blurb
Quotes
The story continues in…
Disclaimer
Please note, How To Save The World: An Alien Comedy is suitable for ages 18+ and is not suitable for prudes or squares.
Based on a true story…
Nar, man. Course it’s not. It’s just made up.
Or is it?
Nar, man. It is. It’s just made up.
Prologue - The ‘Quality Of Life’ Proposal
Grand Emperor Fel Skarpander took the stage to hushed approval. He stood commandingly at the podium. A buzz of anticipation filled the auditorium as he prepared to begin his speech. TV cameras from media stations all around the planet Fem pointed in expectation.
He cleared his throat and began.
“Fellow citizens of Fem, I stand before you in a time of unprecedented prosperity for the planet Fem. War and confrontation on our planet are now a thing of the past. Famine has not been witnessed for over seventy years. Of the approximately three thousand diseases prevalent in our society one hundred years ago, all but twenty six have now been eradicated. Extreme poverty has been consigned to history, with cases of mild poverty limited to very minor pockets of society. Our mobile phones have more cool features and gadgets than those on any other planet in the galaxy. In summary, ours is close to a utopian lifestyle.
And therefore as compassionate citizens of the galaxy I feel it is our duty to share this enviable quality of life with the rest of the galaxy. Therefore I propose that that is exactly what we do. I propose we bring our coveted lifestyle to as many civilisations as possible. I propose we eliminate suffering from the rest of the galaxy. Just as we have done from our wonderful planet Fem.
In some cases this will involve sharing our medically advanced technologies with those planets not currently as scientifically blessed as ourselves. In other cases this will involve bestowing the benefit of our diplomatically skilled politicians as mediators in disputes on war-torn planets. In other cases the deployment of our economic experts will be necessary in order to stimulate the economies of those planets not quite as fiscally blessed as our own. And in some cases the setting up of trade agreements in order to furnish other planets with our cool mobile phones will be necessary.
And of course, in a minority of extreme cases the ‘Quality Of Life’ proposal will involve eliminating life from those planets in the galaxy where the level of suffering is simply too great to alleviate. For just as you would free an aged afflicted pet dog from its suffering by putting it down, simply as an act of kindness, surely there are also a few extreme cases where the same course of action, namely the elimination of life, is likewise the kindest course of action to follow with respect to the festering pits of suffering that exist on certain planets throughout our galaxy…”
The Fyraling spy had seen enough and quietly left the hall unnoticed, just as Grand Emperor Fel Skarpander was exiting the stage to unanimous rapturous applause.
Part One…
Earth
Chapter One – Would You Rather?
Planet Earth,
Northern England,
The Lake District…
“Right, I’ve got one for you,” Eric remarked. Eric and his two mates, Monty and Garth, were currently enjoying a game of ‘Would You Rather?’ “You can have a blowjob off the top five women in the world of your choice…” They had played the game many times before, but never when they were halfway up Mount Helvellyn[1], which they were now. “…but,” Eric continued, “there’s a thousand to one chance that one of them will bite your knob off. Would you do it?”
Monty and Garth clearly weren’t expecting the finale to Eric’s question and they broke out into surprised chuckles.
“And are they up for it as well, are they?” Garth clarified. “Like, it’s not a contractual obligation on their part or anything, is it?”
“Ar, nar. They’re well up for it as well,” Eric confirmed. “In fact that’s where the risk of getting your knob bitten off comes from. Just cos they’re so horny for you that there’s a chance that they’ll get so carried away with their horniness that they’ll bite it off in the heat of the moment.”
“Then I reckon I would, like,” Garth remarked. “The risk of getting your knob bitten off would just add to the excitement.”
“Eh!? Are you mad?” Monty exclaimed. “I wouldn’t, like. Just cos, like … well, there’s no need.” He shrugged to indicate he thought you’d have to be crazy to even consider it.
“Aye, but it’s the top five women in the world of your choice,” Eric repeated. “That’s, like, any women of your choice in the entire world.”
“It’s okay. I am actually familiar with the meaning of the term ‘the top five women in the world,’” Monty replied, sarcastically. “You don’t have to explain to uz what that means.”
“Ar, I know. It’s just that you don’t seem to have grasped how lush that would be,” Eric r
esponded. “Like … any women of your choice.”
“Aye, I know what ‘any’ means,” Monty reiterated.
“Eh!? So you wouldn’t!?” Eric remarked, only now seeming to comprehend that Monty had a firm comprehension of the question.
“Well why take the risk?” Monty shrugged.
“Cos it’s the five top women in the world,” Eric explained. “And, like, you don’t have to have all five blowjobs off the belt. You can spread them out if you want to give yourself a chance to recover.”
“Still … there’s a chance you might get your knob bitten off,” Monty reminded Eric. “Like, surely no matter how lush the women are that’s not worth the risk.”
“Well, there’s a chance that could happen even when normal lasses give you a blowjob,” Eric argued.
Monty and Garth laughed. “What sort of lasses do you get blowjobs off?” Garth quizzed.
“Well … none usually, alas,” Eric admitted. “But I’m just saying … like, it happens.”
“When does that happen, like?” Monty inquired.
“Well … not very often admittedly,” Eric acknowledged, “but every time you get a blowjob you’re placing a lot of trust in the lass’s hands.”
“Well actually, you’re placing the trust in her mouth, not her hands,” Monty corrected. “You’re thinking of a wank, not a blowjob.”
“You know what I mean,” Eric chuckled.
“Well anyway, the chances of getting your knob bitten off in real life are massively unlikely,” Monty argued, “whereas odds of a thousand to one are low enough for it to be a chance I wouldn’t take.”
“A thousand to one would be safe enough for me, like,” Eric reasoned. “But I’d have to know beforehand whether it was gonna happen or not, like. Cos if I was lying there thinking, ‘I could get my knob bitten off at any moment,’ then I reckon I probably wouldn’t be able to get a hard on. So I’d have to know beforehand whether I’d been unlucky or not.”
“I wouldn’t want to know,” Garth remarked. “The uncertainty of not knowing if your knob was going to get bitten off or not would just add to the buzz.”
“So how low would you go with the odds before you’d say, ‘Nar, this is getting too risky, this, like,’ then?” Eric inquired.
“Oo, I reckon about two to one,” Garth joked. At least I hope he was joking. Anyway, Eric and Monty apparently assumed he was joking cos they laughed quite a bit at this comment.
A brief pause in the conversation then followed which led Eric to suggest, “Are we heading off again, then?” They all felt suitably rested and so headed off again up the mountain. Mount Helvellyn was only nine hundred and fifty metres high, which was no great height by any means as far as mountains go, but it was still a tiring three hour walk to the top, however, so they had only walked another fifteen minutes before Garth’s calves would go no further.
“I’m gonna need another rest, like,” he announced.
Eric was in quite good shape so his body was all up for pressing on, but his mind was up for another round of ‘Would You Rather?’ so he quickly agreed to another break.
Monty was his usual laidback self and happy to go along with the majority. “Have you got any more, then, Eric?” he asked.
“Right, well this one can be quite controversial,” Eric began, “but I don’t understand how, cos in my eyes it’s totally straight forward.”
“I like a bit of controversy,” Monty remarked.
“I don’t mean controversial as in a controversial subject,” Eric explained. “But it sometimes gets really strong opposite opinions … even though it’s clear cut, like, I reckon.”
“Right, well what is it is, then?” Monty inquired.
“Aye right, anyway ... there’s a bath full of Angelina Jolie’s piss,” Eric began, setting the scene. “And then there’s another bath next to it, full of water ... but then you pour a cup full of a sweaty old tramp’s piss into that bath, right. And the dilemma is you’ve got to sit in one of the baths for ten seconds … which one would it be?”
“You see, I’m not that bothered about piss,” Garth remarked. “So, like, if a fit lass wanted to piss in my face I’d let her, so I’d definitely go for the bath full of Angelina’s piss.”
“Yeah, so would I,” Monty agreed. “In fact I’d probably sit in her bath for longer than the requisite ten seconds,” he added.
“Aye, so would I,” Eric nodded emphatically, before quickly clarifying, “I mean, just for ten seconds, like ... not for any longer. Just for ten seconds,” he repeated, perhaps protesting just a little too much. “It’s mad, though. When I was in The Cook Islands[2] everybody there went for the bath with the sweaty tramp’s piss in it. I was, like, ‘Eh! No way, man! You don’t understand! You mustn’t have been listening properly. It’s Angelina’s piss versus a sweaty old tramp’s piss!’ but they were all going on like I was some sort of deviant piss freak.” Eric looked quite pleased with his friend’s answers. “Aye, it’s reassuring to know that yous are on the same wavelength as me, like.”
“Have you got your breath back yet, Garth,” Monty inquired, “or are we having another round?”
“Ar, I’ll need longer than this, like,” Garth replied. “That was only a short round.”
“Right, I’ve got another one, then,” Eric remarked. “If you could score with any lass you wanted for the rest of your life, or eliminate malaria from the world, which would you choose?”
“I’m not too genned up on my diseases,” Garth admitted. “What does malaria do again?”
“It kills loads of people, like,” Eric explained. “It’s canny dodgy, like, but it’s mainly kids that it kills. It’s something like ninety percent of all malaria deaths are kids. And then the other ten percent who die are poor Africans.[3] If you’re a rich westerner who can afford the drugs then you’re usually alright. I mean, it’s still totally dodgy, like … I’m not suggesting you go out and catch it deliberately, like ... but it’s mainly poor African kids that have to worry about dying if they catch malaria.”
“Well you’d have to go for the eliminating malaria option, then,” Garth answered, maturely.
“Yeah, I’d obviously go for the malaria option as well,” Monty agreed.
Eric started chuckling to himself.
“What about you, then, Eric?” Garth inquired.
“Right, well when I was in Haad Rin there were these two absolutely gorgeously fit Swedish lasses...”
Before he could get any further Monty cut in. “So you wouldn’t!?”
“Well, I’ll just explain,” Eric continued. “There were these two totally fit Swedish lasses who’d been there for a few weeks, and on the last Full Moon Party[4] they were dressed in nurses’ outfits, right.” Eric paused at this point. “In fact, actually, we should probably all take a few moments to picture the scene ... purely for the purposes of helping to illustrate my story, like.”
“Ar, yeah, obviously,” Monty agreed. “What other possible reason could there be for imagining two totally fit Swedish lasses in nurses’ outfits?” It was a rhetorical question laced with irony.
Eric continued with his story. “And that time the scenario wasn’t even to score for the rest of your life. It was just for a one night threesome with those two fit Swedish lasses.” Eric paused again for one last memory of the two Swedish lasses. “And every dude went for the threesome, like. Like, and no-one even found it worthy of deliberation. It was that clear cut.”
“Eh, that’s shocking, that, like,” Garth criticised, shaking his head. “So you’d let all those kids die of malaria just for one night of pleasure?”
“One night of extreme pleasure,” Eric corrected. “And you see though, we’re all halfway up a mountain all knackered out and not feeling very horny, so it’s easy to be logical and selfless when you’re not feeling horny. But when the two fit Swedish lasses are actually there in front of you dancing on a bar, shaking about all cool and sexy like, then it’s a bit harder to worry too much abo
ut all the people that’ll die.”
“I know but still,” Garth pressed. “Eliminating malaria ... it’s a massive world changing event. It should still be a simple enough decision.”
“Well it was a simple enough decision,” Eric pointed out.
“Yeah, but in the wrong direction,” Garth highlighted.
Eric had set him a trap though, and Garth had walked straight into it. “Right, well Garth, if you’re so into saving lives and all that, then for two pounds fifty you can pay for an inoculation to protect a kid in Africa from six diseases. Two pounds fifty … less than the price of a pint. So next time we go out boozing I’ll remind you of your priorities.”
“Aye, but, er ... it’s, er ... not as simple as that, though,” Garth stuttered.
“Well, it is, like,” Eric insisted. “Two pounds fifty could save a kid’s life but you’d rather get boozed up. Not that I’m knocking you cos I would as well, like. The only difference is I’m not a hypocrite about it.”
Garth racked his brains to come up with an argument to justify his preference for booze over saving the lives of African kids, and if he had a few hours he could probably have mustered something together, but with only a few seconds it was considerably harder. And with Eric staring smugly at him it only made things harder still.
“So if you think I’m bad for choosing a Scandinavian medically themed fantasy threesome…” Eric continued, pressing home his advantage, “…over saving lives, then imagine how bad that makes you for choosing booze, which let’s face it, ranks about fifty leagues below the Swedish option, over saving lives.” Eric stared at Garth and shook his head in an ironic mocking manner. “If you can live with yourself...” His voice trailed off as he shook his head some more.
“Ar, but I mean … like, it should be up to governments and stuff,” Garth blustered. “And rich people. Not me.”
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