How To Save The World: An Alien Comedy

by Charles Fudgemuffin

  “Or even worse. Even mebbees the whole planet,” Jixyl added.

  “So basically, what you’re saying is that we’re fucked,” Eric replied.

  “You’re fucked,” Jixyl corrected. “We’re alright.”

  “Aye, cheers,” Eric smirked. “So can I come and live on your planet, then?”

  “Maybe as a last resort,” Azleev sort of half-promised, “but being positive, it’s pretty hard to create a disease. So if that’s the Femlings’ plan then it could take them another couple of years before they’ve got enough diseases created to kill everything.”

  “Maybe even longer,” Jixyl added, optimistically.

  “And in the mean time,” Azleev continued, “you never know … we might come up with a better plan.”

  “Ar, well. A couple of years is better than nothing, I suppose,” Eric shrugged. “And if we’ve got a couple of years to spare that means we could mebbees have a couple of hours in the casinos,” he suggested, hopefully. “Just, like, I mean, like, while we’re in Vegas, like … it’d be stupid not to have a bit of a flutter.”

  Jixyl and Azleev were actually quite keen to experience the flashing lights of Vegas for themselves and so they agreed to Eric’s suggestion and headed off towards the famous Las Vegas strip.

  Chapter Thirteen – Snatching Defeat From The Jaws Of Victory

  Eric strutted out of the casino onto the Las Vegas strip feeling extremely smug with himself. The source of his smugness was the big wad of notes that currently filled his wallet.

  “Yes … chuffedness!!” he beamed.

  “M.D.P.T. wasn’t designed to be used for personal profit,” Azleev remarked. M.D.P.T. stood for Mechanical and Digital Predictive Technology. It was a feature on Eric’s phone.

  “Well why not?” Eric asked.

  “Cos it was meant to be used to cut down on research time and improve safety and stuff,” Azleev explained. M.D.P.T. was a clever feature that could analyse its mechanical or electronic surroundings and predict the outcome of a future event. As Azleev had just explained, the main purpose of M.D.P.T. on its initial introduction was to cut down on the time and expense involved in most areas of scientific research by predicting a result (with 98.675% accuracy) without actually having to perform the said operation. As it became established though, the technology developed and eventually became honed to the point where it was used as a safety instrument for analysing mechanical devices and checking for any potential dangers before accidents happened. It had cut down on Fyraling-made disasters on Fyra by almost four percent which probably doesn’t sound as impressive as you were expecting, but this figure would have been a lot higher if it wasn’t for Fyraling error. Basically, after the introduction of M.D.P.T. many Fyralings became overconfident in their approach to safety, and so a lot of the safety gains made by the introduction of M.D.P.T. were cancelled out by the complacency of Fyraling nature (which was very like human nature).

  “Aye, it was invented as a tool to benefit society,” Jixyl added.

  “Well I’m part of society,” Eric argued, “and it’s certainly been very beneficial to me.” Eric had used his mobile phone to predict which pokies[37] were the most likely to pay out.

  “It was meant to benefit society as a whole,” Azleev explained. “Not just certain individuals.”

  “You see, you’ve gotta think outside the box sometimes,” Eric reasoned. “Play-Doh was originally intended as a wallpaper cleaner but then some clever dude thought to himself, ‘Hmm, this would make a really cool toy,’ so he re-marketed it as a cool modelling clay type product and the rest is history.”

  Jixyl and Azleev gave Eric a confused stare.

  “And you see, that’s basically what I’ve done with M.D.P.T.,” Eric continued. “I’ve thought, ‘Yes, it has very good uses, but maybe I can come up with a better use for it which could be beneficial in other ways.’ In this case … financially beneficial ways.”

  “Tell you what … get the scran[38] in and we won’t go on about it any more,” Jixyl bargained.

  “Fair enough,” Eric agreed. “What d’you fancy?”

  At that moment Azleev noticed a sign outside a casino which read ‘Roast Chicken Platter.’ “Mmm, I could quite fancy some roast chicken, like,” he suggested.

  “Nar, I’m not really in the mood for chicken,” Eric replied. He then noticed the next line of the sign. It read, ‘Tonight: bikini mud wrestling.’ “Actually, aye … chicken sounds good,” he suddenly reconsidered.

  They made their way through the casino into the restaurant/bar/bikini mud wrestling arena at the back, found themselves ringside seats then proceeded to order three roast chicken platters, together with one beer and two orange juices.

  “I reckon that waitress fancied you, like, Jixyl,” Eric remarked, as the waitress took their orders off to the kitchen.

  “She was just being friendly cos it’s her job,” Jixyl disputed. “She didn’t fancy uz.”

  “I dunno, like,” Azleev purported, agreeing with Eric. “She definitely seemed to be a bit more friendly with you than with me and Eric.”

  “Hey, you know what you should invent?” Eric suggested.

  “What?” Jixyl inquired.

  “H.P.T.,” Eric replied. “It could be a new feature on your mobile phones and it would be a bit like M.D.P.T., only H.P.T. would stand for Hormonal Predictive Technology. And you could, like, use your H.P.T. to find out which lasses fancy you and stuff.”

  Jixyl looked at Eric with a smirk on his face.

  “Ar … and it could also predict what sort of horny stuff they’re into,” Eric added. “That’d be cool if yous could invent that, like.”

  “Aye, it would, like,” Jixyl laughed.

  “But remember, it was my idea,” Eric added. “Just for when you’re dishing out the royalties and all that.”

  “Fyraling credits are worthless on Earth,” Azleev pointed out.

  “Well you could pay uz in pounds, then,” Eric suggested, helpfully.

  “We don’t have pounds on Fyra,” Azleev replied.

  “And besides,” Jixyl added, “you can’t just come up with an idea and say you want the royalties for it. If that was the case I could say, ‘Ar, I’ve come up with the idea for this pill that cures all diseases.’ But then someone would go, ‘Ar, that sounds excellent, like. What’s the formula for it and, like, how do you make it?’ and I’d be, like, ‘Ar, I dunno. I’ve just come up with the idea. I can’t actually make it.’ And then they’d be all, like, ‘Ar, well you’re a total chump, then. Cos anyone can come up with an idea. It’s turning that idea into reality that deserves the credit.’

  Eric chuckled at Jixyl’s sarky speech. “Well, even if I can’t get any royalties out of it, I still reckon it’d be worth inventing, like,” he persisted.

  “I’ll bear that in mind the next time I bump into the leading research scientists of Fyra,” Jixyl mocked.

  A few moments later the waitress returned with their drinks. Eric took a big gulp of his beer, then grinned at Jixyl and Azleev smugly. “Aye, it’s a gutter how you can’t drink alcohol, like,” he commented, with fake sympathy.

  “Aye, it’s a pity they don’t sell diquintenol,” Jixyl replied. “I could just fancy a few DQs, like.”

  By now Eric had reached the point where he totally and utterly trusted Jixyl and Azleev. In fact he trusted them so much that it seemed weird to think that there had actually been a time when he thought they were going to kill all mankind. Eric considered himself to be an astute judge of character, but he had to admit that on this occasion his initial judgement had been extremely wide of the mark.

  Besides, he basically had no choice but to trust them. If they were telling the truth, which Eric was virtually convinced of by now, then they were mankind’s only hope for survival. And if somehow it still turned out that they were full of patter, which seemed implausible now that Eric had seen the ‘Quality Of Life’ video, then it didn’t really matter anyway because the Femlings were still
going to try to kill all mankind, so he had nothing to lose by trusting them.

  But this wasn’t the logic by which Eric had decided to trust Jixyl and Azleev. He basically just thought they were totally sound. They were his type of dudes.

  And because he now trusted them he felt that he could no longer postpone telling Jixyl about his unfaithful girlfriend any longer.

  He realised, however, that telling Jixyl his girlfriend was a cheat would more than likely put him in a bad mood and Eric had no desire to enrage Jixyl unnecessarily. He therefore deemed it appropriate to broach the subject tactfully and break the news to Jixyl in the most sympathetic way possible.

  He decided that liberally furnishing compliments upon Jixyl and Azleev was a good way to start. “I just wanna say, right, that’s yous are both totally sound,” Eric flattered. He directed his attention to Azleev. “And, like, I’m sorry for kicking you when we first met.”

  “No worries,” Azleev shrugged.

  “And I’m sorry for thinking yous were gonna kill all mankind when I saw Jerry Springer,” Eric continued.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Azleev replied. “It was a perfectly natural reaction seeing as how you didn’t really know us that well.”

  “Aye, no worries,” Jixyl responded. “People are always assuming that I’m a genocidal maniac when they first meet uz. It’s an easy mistake to make.”

  “Aye but I’m sorry anyway,” Eric apologised. “But anyway, now that I know yous I’ve realised that yous are totally sound and all that. And I, like, just wanna say cheers for helping uz try to come up with a way to stop the Femlings from killing all humans.”

  “And all carrots,” Jixyl added.

  “Aye, and all carrots,” Eric acknowledged. “Although I have to admit, the majority of my gratitude is based on your attempts to save humans and only a very small part of my gratitude is for your attempts to save the carrots.”

  “Well thanks for your gratitude,” Azleev smiled.

  “Aye cheers, but we’re not just doing it out of kindness,” Jixyl pointed out. “Obviously that’s the main reason … like, to save all humans and hopefully carrots as well is the main reason we’re helping you, but we’re also doing it cos the Femlings are total snides, like. There’s potential self-interest involved as well. We can’t just let them go round the universe killing anyone whose quality of life doesn’t meet with their unfeasibly high standards.”

  “Ar, aye,” Eric agreed. “I’m the same. I’m mainly bothered about saving mankind, but I’m also slightly doing this to spite the Femlings. Cos like you say, they’re total snides, like.”

  Eric suddenly realised that he had become distracted somewhat from his intended goal of breaking the bad news to Jixyl about his unfaithful girlfriend.

  “Aye, well anyway … yous have been excellent, like,” Eric repeated. “And I totally appreciate it.”

  “No worries,” Jixyl replied.

  Eric decided that this was the time to get the subject of the conversation back on track. “But, er … I’ve just remembered I had to, er … tell you something which you might probably think is a little bit bad news,” Eric stuttered.

  “Bad news?” Jixyl inquired. “Like what?”

  At this point the first two contestants emerged into the mud wrestling pool to be introduced by the host for the night.

  “Ar, well … actually it’s not that important really,” Eric suddenly reconsidered. The scantiness of the two contestants’ bikinis was possibly a key factor in Eric deciding that discussing Jixyl’s unfaithful girlfriend wasn’t as urgent as he had previously considered. “I can tell you later if you want.”

  “Nar, howay. What is it?” Jixyl persisted.

  Eric’s attention, however, was firmly focussed on the forthcoming wrestling. “Before we get things started,” the host announced, “these girls are gonna get really dirty tonight, so we’re gonna need a couple of towel boys to rub these girls down and clean them up after each round. Do we have any volunteers?”

  Eric thrust his arm up.

  Jixyl nudged his arm. “What were you saying about bad news?” he asked.

  “Huh?” Eric grunted.

  “You, sir. You look like a suitable candidate,” the host announced, pointing at a member of the audience at the opposite side of the wrestling pool to Eric.

  Eric thrust his arm even higher.

  “Eric, man. What were you saying about bad news?” Jixyl urged.

  “Ar … just that I’ve noticed that dude over there ordered a chicken platter as well and he didn’t get any chips with it,” Eric lied. Jixyl looked slightly bamboozled by Eric’s rather strange opinion of what constituted bad news. “Gutter, eh? I could just fancy some chips.”

  “And you, sir,” the host announced, this time pointing at Eric.

  “Yes! Get in!” Eric exclaimed.

  “I think he was pointing at me, like,” Jixyl protested.

  “Well it’s probably best that you don’t get up in case anyone notices your fake extra finger attachments[39],” Eric argued, although the true motivation for his comment was probably more hormone related, even though his comment nevertheless made good sense.

  “Yeah, Eric’s right,” Azleev agreed.

  Eric made his way towards the host who then assigned him to one of the contestants whose name was Annabel. The host then explained the rules to the audience.

  “Each wrestling match consists of three rounds and the girls need two points for a victory. You get one point for a pin down or one point if you manage to pop your opponent’s boobs out of her bikini. However, it’s up to the crowd to shout out and tell me whenever a boob pops out, so make sure you pay close attention to the girls’ boobs.” The expressions on the faces of most men in the audience seemed to indicate that they considered this to be a fair request.

  Eric, however, had a theory regarding the audience’s likelihood to go along with this instruction. “If I was you, like, I wouldn’t try to get the other lass’s baps out, like,” he advised. “Cos if a bap pops out no dudes are gonna say anything. That’d just mean the judge would award you a point and pause the wrestling, and that’d give her a chance to put her baps back in again. Trust uz, every dude’ll just keep quiet if a bap pops out so that they can all have a good stare. Trust uz, go for the pin down. That’s the way to win.”

  “I’m not really that serious about it,” Annabel smiled. “It’s just a bit of a laugh.”

  “Ar, yeah,” Eric agreed. “But I’m just saying … like, that would be my strategy if I was competing.” This was a blatant lie, however. If Eric had been wrestling the other extremely fit lass (whose name was Crystal) his strategy would most definitely not have been to avoid getting her baps out.

  “I’ll just see what happens,” Annabel shrugged.

  “Aye, but you might as well try and win, like,” Eric insisted. “And the pin down’s definitely the best strategy.” Even in moment’s of perviness Eric couldn’t contain his competitive spirit.

  Meanwhile, Jixyl and Azleev were discussing Eric. “He doesn’t seem quite as pervy as I was expecting,” Jixyl mused. “You’d expect him to be having the odd sly glance at her baps, but he seems to actually be talking to her face.”

  “Maybe he respects women as individuals and can see beyond Annabel’s physical attractiveness to the inner beauty beneath,” Azleev proposed. A few seconds later both he and Jixyl burst out into laughter.

  “Haaarrrrr,” Jixyl chuckled, as he let out a post-laughter sigh. “Seriously, though. It could be a worry if he’s not the perv we thought he was.”

  “Don’t worry,” Azleev reassured. “I’m sure it’s just an act. He’ll just be acting all interested in Annabel’s conversation to try to come across as sincere and genuine. It’s a perfectly natural reaction for any sly, devious perv that’s got half a brain. That’s all it’ll be.”

  “Aye, you’re probably right,” Jixyl agreed.

  At that moment the host requested the two wrestlers to step towards
the middle of the wrestling pool. As Annabel turned her back on Eric and stepped into the pool, Eric took the most of the opportunity to examine Annabel’s figure, paying particular attention to her skimpily covered bum.

  “What did I tell you?” Azleev gloated. “He’s not sincere. He’s just subtle and sly and devious.”

  Jixyl smirked. “Panic over,” he replied.

  Annabel and Crystal began grappling and before long Crystal had managed to remove Annabel’s baps from her bikini. She relaxed expecting a point to be awarded, but as Eric had predicted no-one in the crowd made any attempt to inform the judge of this bap slippage. Instead they all just had a good old stare.

  Annabel took advantage of Crystal’s complacency and in the space of a couple of seconds had tripped her over onto her back then pinned her down. The host rang the bell and awarded a point to Annabel, who then proceeded to rehouse her baps in her bikini.

  Crystal didn’t seem too happy about this apparent injustice and raised her complaint with the host.

  “Just to reiterate,” the host explained, addressing the crowd. “You guys have to shout out and tell me whenever a boob pops out.” He then addressed Crystal. “I can’t be held responsible if the crowd don’t spot a stray boob.” Crystal looked quite miffed by this explanation and stormed back to her corner. “And just to clarify gentlemen,” the host announced, “in the event of a tie it’s down to you guys to decide the winner. Whichever girl gets the biggest cheer is the winner.”

  “Class!” Eric exclaimed. “If it’s a draw that means you’ll definitely get the biggest cheer cos you’ve had your baps out. All you need to do now is play defensive for the next two rounds and the fight’s yours.”

  “I’ve got mud in my eye,” Annabel remarked.

  “Ar, aye. Soz,” Eric replied, suddenly remembering that his official duty was that of towel boy and not ring-side coach. He delicately wiped the mud out of Annabel’s eye. “Is that better?” he asked.

  Annabel grasped the towel and gave her eye a more sturdy rub. “Ow. It’s really stinging,” she announced, blinking.