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How To Save The World: An Alien Comedy

Page 20

by Charles Fudgemuffin

Like he had often pointed out to people who accused Noel Gallagher of being arrogant, Oasis have got a load of songs which are blatantly excellent, so when Noel describes them as such he’s only being honest. If he described his songs as merely average or even moderately okay then he would be being a liar, so he’s in a bit of a no-win situation really.

  And this was also the situation Eric saw himself in when it came to fashion. He genuinely had a high opinion of his fashion sense, so to pretend otherwise would be being dishonest. And in Eric’s eyes arrogance was less of an evil than dishonesty.

  Anyway, Jixyl and Azleev were convinced by his arguments and so the plan was altered slightly to allow for a couple of days in Sumai City for Eric to get kitted out in sharp threads.

  6) The final stage of the plan was that Eric would go out every night (wearing his sharp new clothes) and snog loads of Femling lasses to infect them with the Telix-17 virus and hopefully initiate the death of the Femling species. Or at the very least, spread the virus to enough of the population to force them into diverting scientific resources away from creating a disease to kill mankind and instead towards finding a cure for the Telix-17 virus.

  I suppose you’re thinking now, ‘Ar, well thanks for telling uz the story and spoiling it for uz, like,’ but as pointed out earlier this was only the plan.

  And on Fem, as on Earth, very few plans go exactly to plan.

  Chapter Seventeen – Crossing The Line

  ‘The Department of Driving Licences

  Marrick Street

  Woolton

  Georgeland

  The Planet Fyra

  Dear D.D.L.

  In accordance with item 3(ii) (conditions of validity) of my driving licence, I am writing to inform you of some recent changes to my circumstances.

  You will be delighted to hear that I recently lost half a stone and have therefore gone down a dress size. I have also had blonde highlights put in my hair which really compliment my delicate complexion.

  I would be obliged if you could therefore update your records and if you require any further information regarding the recent changes to my circumstances please do not hesitate to contact me.

  Yours Faithfully

  Pasha Wilmox’

  Healey Stetta, Pasha’s friend, looked up from reading the letter and smiled at Pasha. “No, man. That’s not the type of change of circumstances they mean,” Healey explained. “They mean, like, if you change your address or get penalty points on your licence or anything like that.”

  “Don’t worry. I know what they mean,” Pasha replied. “But it’s all part of a bigger plan.” A smug grin appeared on Pasha’s face. “This is the first step towards me making myself a nice little fortune.”

  Healey looked confused…

  . . . . . . .

  “Good book?” Azleev asked, turning around from his control seat to address Eric.

  “Aye, it’s alright,” Eric replied. “It’s a bit daft but that’s alright cos I like daft books. There should be more daftness in the world in my opinion.”

  “Anyway, we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,” Azleev announced. “And you said you wanted to watch the descent into Fyra’s atmosphere.”

  Eric had been reading the latest e-novel, ‘Happiness Must Be Vigorously Pursued’ by popular Fyraling author, Neb Belton, on his mobile phone and he was quite enjoying it, but quickly put his phone down despite his enjoyment as he was understandably excited about the prospect of landing on an alien planet.

  “Flip! A few more minutes and I’m gonna be on a different planet,” he gushed. “Like … flip!”

  “Yeah,” Azleev replied.

  “Flip, this is gonna be class, this, like!” Eric enthused.

  “It’s not a holiday though, remember,” Jixyl reminded him. “You’re coming here as part of your mission. It’s not about having a class time. It’s all about saving the Earth.”

  “Ar, yeah,” Eric agreed.

  And then something occurred to him which he hadn’t yet considered. “I’ve just thought…” he announced. “What about the ugly Femlings?”

  Jixyl and Azleev looked confused. “What about them?” Azleev quizzed.

  “Well surely they’ll slip the net,” Eric suggested. “Like, there must be a canny few ugly Femlings that never score cos they’re so ugly. Well surely therefore they’re not gonna catch the Telix-17 virus.”

  “Trust us … the vast majority of the Femling population are attractive,” Azleev reassured Eric.

  “Yeah honestly, once you start the ball rolling the vast majority of the Femlings will soon be dead,” Jixyl added. “All the variables are loaded against them. The Telix-17 virus has a near one hundred percent success rate for infection through snogging. And, like, there’s even a one percent chance of infection from social kissing. And social kissing is canny common on Fem.”

  “What? Like, even between dudes?” Eric inquired, looking slightly perturbed.

  “Well, no. Obviously just between lasses,” Jixyl clarified.

  “Mmm,” Eric smiled, as the concern in his face was quickly replaced by an altogether more appreciative expression.

  “And another thing in our favour is the timescale of the disease,” Azleev added. “From the moment of infection it takes the Telix-17 virus six months before it kills its victim. And for the first five months of infection the carrier appears perfectly healthy, which means five months for them to infect other Femlings. Trust us, if you pull this off then within a couple of years the Femling population will be decimated.”

  “Yeah, but surely no matter how good the variables are in our favour, there must surely still be a few ugly Femlings that are gonna be saved from infection by their ugliness,” Eric insisted.

  “Even ugly people get some action,” Jixyl argued.

  “Yeah, some of them,” Eric conceded, “but not all of them. All I’m saying is there must surely be one or two that’ll slip through the net.”

  “Well if there is a handful that survive their priority isn’t going to be killing every living thing on Earth, is it?” Azleev highlighted. “Their priority is going to be repopulating Fem.”

  Eric’s mind ticked over for a few moments. “Aye, I suppose,” he finally acknowledged. “That’d be a gutter, like, wouldn’t it? Like, imagine if you had to repopulate a planet. You’d be, like, ‘Ar, class! Get in! Constant fun … and with an honourable purpose!’ But then if someone was, like, ‘Ar, but there’s just one drawback … they’re all ugly,’ then you’d be, like, ‘Ar, total gutter!’ It’d be a total conflict of emotions.”

  “Yeah,” Jixyl chuckled in agreement.

  Eric was quiet for a few moments before another question entered his head. “So will I need that fake passport for when we land, then?” he asked.

  “That’s for when you go to Fem,” Azleev explained. “The Femlings have got Fyra down as next on their list after Earth, remember? So if you tried to use a Femling passport on Fyra you wouldn’t be too popular.”

  “So have you got uz a fake Fyraling passport as well, have you?” Eric asked.

  “No,” Jixyl answered.

  “What, then?” Eric inquired, curiously.

  “We’re just gonna smuggle you in,” Jixyl revealed.

  “Seriously?” Eric didn’t like the sound of this.

  “Well, aye. What else can we do? It’s the only option,” Jixyl explained.

  “Is that not a bit dodgy, though?” Eric queried, starting to get mildly concerned.

  “Only if we get caught … but we’ll probably not get caught, like,” Jixyl reassured Eric.

  Eric didn’t feel very reassured, however. “Eh! Probably? That’s not very reassuring,” he remarked.

  “Look, man. The immigration authorities have only reported three cases of people smuggling in the last twelve months,” Jixyl pointed out.

  “Ar, I don’t like the sound of this, like,” Eric commented, nervously. “What happens if we get caught?”

  “Well…” Jixyl paused,
and it has to be said he looked very uncomfortable. “Don’t worry. Like I say, we’ll probably not get caught.”

  “Look, we’ll be within range of the Planetary Orbital Monitoring System in a few minutes, so you’ll have to be quiet,” Azleev ordered.

  “Ar, this sounds dodgy, this, like,” Eric worried. “In fact that’s why you won’t tell uz what happens if we get caught, isn’t it? It’s cos it’s totally dodgy.”

  “Look, fair enough … I’ll admit the last couple of people they caught they decided to put down,” Jixyl admitted, “but…”

  “Put down!” Eric screeched, clearly extremely alarmed at this unpleasant revelation. “Flip! I’m not a pet, you know! In fact, nar! I’ve changed my mind! I wanna go back to Earth!”

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about, man,” Jixyl insisted. “You’re an enemy of the Femlings and an enemy of the Femlings is a friend of the Fyralings. At the worst they’d probably send you to the prison planet of Incarsirus for a few months … but they might even just let you off altogether.”

  “Na! I don’t wanna take the risk,” Eric protested, making his feelings on the matter very clear. “You didn’t mention any of this when you were telling uz about the plan. It was all, ‘Oo, you’ll get to live in the sunshine for a few months and snog loads of fit lasses.’ There was no mention of any, ‘Ar, by the way … there’s a chance you might get put down or locked up on some prison planet somewhere.’ Well, nar. I’m not doing it. I wanna go back to Earth.”

  At this point Jixyl started laughing, which Eric, given his imminent potential impending death or incarceration, found more than a little insensitive. “Aye, well I’m glad you find it so funny but I’ve never found getting killed the greatest source of humour so seriously … turn the ship around cos I’m not doing it. I didn’t sign up for any danger, like. I signed up for fun in the sun.” At this point Eric noticed a wry smile on Azleev’s face, which given that he was generally the more responsible and mature of the two, confused Eric somewhat. “What’s funny, like?” he asked.

  “It’s just a joke,” Azleev confessed. “Don’t worry, we cleared all the paperwork in advance. Besides, like we said, Fyra is the next target of the Femlings’ ‘Quality Of Life’ proposal … so if you manage to pull this off you’d be a hero on Fyra. Think about it, why would we imprison a hero? You’re doing it primarily for mankind but we’ve got a vested interest as well, remember?”

  A smile of relief broke out on Eric’s face. A few moments later, however, it was replaced by a look of anger. “Here! You’re mental idiots, yous, like!” he exploded.

  “Calm down, man,” Jixyl soothed. “It was just a joke.”

  “Ar, aye! Class joke, like!” Eric replied, meaning the opposite. “‘By the way there’s a chance you might die. Nar, man. Just joking.’ Aye, that was pure comedy genius.”

  “Here, man. I’ve said it was just a joke,” Jixyl protested. “What’s the problem?”

  “Here, man! What’s the problem!?” Eric snapped back. “The problem is, you don’t trick someone into thinking they might get put down. That’s not a joke. That’s just being a complete idiot.”

  “I didn’t think you’d fall for it anyway,” Jixyl shrugged. “I thought you’d blatantly realise that humans and Fyralings share the same goals, so we’d obviously not imprison someone that could ensure our own long-term safety as well.”

  “Yeah, your situation might be a bit more urgent,” Azleev added, “but if the Femlings carry on with their twisted plans then further down the line we’re gonna be in the same boat as you are. So we need you free and fighting for the common cause … not stuck in a prison somewhere.”

  “Here, man! I’ve never been to your planet before so how am I meant to know how things work in your society?” Eric argued. “For all I know you might be complete mental idiots. In fact you are complete mental idiots.”

  “Here, man. Get over it, will you?” Jixyl moaned. “It was just a bit of a laugh.”

  “Ar, that’s alright, then. As long as you found it funny,” Eric mocked. “Here, you don’t understand the concept behind playing a lush snaky trick on someone. The other person has to find the trick funny as well … otherwise it’s not a lush snaky trick. It’s just being a snide.”

  “Well I thought you would find it funny,” Jixyl protested, defensively.

  “On what basis would I ever find my potential impending death funny?” Eric questioned.

  “Well we said you’d probably only go to prison,” Jixyl defended.

  “Well going to prison on some strange alien planet isn’t all that funny either, like,” Eric pointed out.

  “Look, how about this… Jixyl you apologise and we all forget about it,” Azleev proposed.

  “I apologise?” Jixyl remonstrated. “You went along with it as well, like, Azleev,” he added, resorting to the age-old tactic of attempting to share out the blame.

  “Yeah, but it was mainly you,” Azleev insisted.

  “Look, can I just explain to you with an example?” Eric interjected. He still wasn’t finished explaining his ‘lush snaky trick’ theory. “Say if I put a drawing pin on someone’s seat and then when they come back I deliberately look shifty so that they know something’s up, and then they spot the drawing pin and move it, then that’s a lush snaky trick cos it’s implying that I wanted them to sit on the drawing pin but at the same time they don’t actually experience any pain or discomfort.

  But if I actually let them sit on the drawing pin then that’s not a lush snaky trick anymore. That’s just being a snide. You have to know where to draw the line.

  So if you’re taking it up to the point of letting someone think they might die or go to prison then that’s mebbees crossing the line a little bit, okay? D’you understand?”

  “Okay, we get the idea,” Azleev accepted. “But anyway, I thought you said you wanted to enjoy the descent.”

  “Aye, I do,” Eric confirmed, “but it was just important to ensure you understand the rules of playing a lush snaky trick first.”

  “Right, well we understand now,” Azleev replied, “so enjoy the view…”

  The three of them all finally agreed to draw a line under the issue and so Eric took a deep breath of anticipation and peered out of the viewing interface. “How come a descent takes longer than a take-off, then?” he inquired.

  “Just for safety reasons,” Azleev explained. “Just cos when you leave an atmosphere you’re heading towards an empty vacuum of emptiness so you can safely go really fast, whereas when you enter an atmosphere you’re heading towards a big massive rock, therefore an atmospheric entry requires a slower speed than an exit, just for safety reasons.”

  “Ar, right,” Eric nodded, and he stared outside and breathed in the excitement as they finally began their descent into Fyra’s atmosphere. Eric had been to East Africa a few years ago and that was the first time he had flown, and he could still remember the buzz of excitement he felt as the buildings and trees gradually got bigger and bigger as the plane descended into Nairobi airport.

  This though, was about fifty times more exciting than that. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head. It felt almost like a movie with ground-breaking – no, ground-shattering – amazing special effects.

  But it wasn’t a movie. It was real. And Eric was totally loving it. He loved travelling, loved visiting new places and had been to some of the most amazing places on Earth … The Great Barrier Reef, The Grand Canyon, St.James Park[41] and many more, but none of them came even remotely close to what he was experiencing right now. And as a huge smile broke out across his face he realised that Jixyl and Azleev’s misjudged joke was a small price to pay for the amazingly awe-inspiring experience he was experiencing right now.

  And over the next few months there would be many more amazing experiences waiting ahead for Eric.

  But also a few more prices to pay.

  And some of them, unfortunately for Eric, not so small.

  Chapter Eighteen – The
Dude Who Saved The Earth

  “Here, man! I promise you I haven’t shagged any blonde lasses!” Jixyl repeated for the umpteenth time. Jixyl had only been back on Fyra for a few hours and already the unfortunate consequences of Eric’s retaliatory text to Jeemia about ‘shagging a blonde lass’ were coming to a head.

  “Then why did you send Jeemia a text saying you had, then?” Sverine asked. Sverine was Jixyl’s girlfriend. And Jeemia, so it turned out, was Sverine’s best mate. Not, as Eric had incorrectly assumed, Jixyl’s girlfriend.

  “I’ve told you … I didn’t send the text,” Jixyl explained. “I lost my mobile. Whoever found it must be just playing a stupid joke.” For whatever reason, Jixyl was reluctant to reveal his recent trips to Earth to his girlfriend.

  “Well why would someone send a text like that for a joke?” Sverine queried.

  “Well why would I send a text like that?” Jixyl argued. “Here, man! You must think I’m stupid. If I’d slept with a blonde lass why would I send your best mate a text telling her about it?”

  “Cos all men are skanky dogs,” Sverine answered.

  “We’re not, man,” Jixyl protested. “Most of us are canny sound.”

  “Well you’re one of the ones that falls into the ‘skanky dogs’ category,” Sverine asserted.

  “Anyway, even if I was a skanky dog, which I’m not, that still doesn’t answer my question. A skanky dog, which I’m not, might cheat on his girlfriend but he wouldn’t then admit to it,” Jixyl reasoned.

  “Ar, so you’re saying you’d lie about it!” Sverine retorted.

  “No, man! I’m saying I wouldn’t do it in the first place!” Jixyl snapped. “But if I did I certainly wouldn’t admit to it.”

  “You see! I knew I was right!” Sverine proclaimed, taking Jixyl’s response as an admission of guilt. “I knew I couldn’t trust you!”

  “Look, man! Just think about the logic for a second,” Jixyl insisted. “There’s no logical explanation as to why I would shag a blonde lass and then admit to it.”

 

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