How To Save The World: An Alien Comedy

by Charles Fudgemuffin

  As it turned out Fem had no laws against simpletons passing through immigration, as long as they possessed the appropriate documents, and so Eric passed through immigration without any hassles. Not that it would have made any difference if they did have anti-simpleton laws, because Eric wasn’t a simpleton … just to clarify.

  ‘I’m here!’ he thought to himself, as he headed to the spaceport magnapod station. In some ways the magnapods on Fem were more impressive than the magnapods on Pokar Dix. They were fitted with anti-gravity stabilisation fields which meant there was no need to be strapped in, but in a strange way this made the journey less impressive. The journey was so smooth that you could almost have been sitting in a library. There was no sensation of speed like there was on the magnapods on Pokar Dix and Eric couldn’t help but be reminded of the shinkansen[47] in Japan. That travelled at almost two hundred miles per hour but because the Japanese were so brilliant at designing high-tech trains and ultra-smooth tracks, you hardly even noticed you were moving.

  ‘It’s a pity the shinkansen wasn’t built in England,’ Eric thought to himself. ‘Then you would have noticed how fast you were going.’

  Anyway, a few seconds later Eric had arrived at Sumai City Central Magnapod Station and within a minute or so he emerged from the station into the busy city. All the travelling had left him mentally tired and ready for a good sleep, so he checked into the first cheap hotel he could find and hit the sack.

  And as he lay there and drifted off to sleep, he once again found himself reflecting upon his significance and importance with respect to the future of life on Earth. ‘Flip! It’s actually going to plan!’ he thought to himself. ‘Flip! I actually could be the dude that saves mankind from extinction!’

  But there were still many more twists and turns lying ahead waiting for Eric in his quest to become the dude that saved mankind from extinction.

  Chapter Two – Everything Will Be Okay In The End

  The next couple of days went pretty smoothly, with Eric firstly assessing Femling fashion trends, then adding his own sense of style to his assessment, and then finally purchasing himself several outfits.

  There was one instance when he became rather hassled at an overly pushy saleswoman who was trying to persuade him to buy an over-priced designer t-shirt but other than that it was all relatively hassle-free shopping. What annoyed Eric even more about the pushy saleswoman was that, by the way she was dressed, she clearly didn’t have a clue about fashion. ‘Here, if I was gonna ask someone for fashion tips, you’d be the last person I’d be asking,’ he thought to himself. ‘Not that I’d ever be wanting to ask anyone for fashion tips in any case cos I’ve got such an inflated sense of my own sharp appreciation of style that I generally disregard the opinions of others,’ he added to himself, and a smirk appeared on his face.

  He thought that it might possibly sound a bit cheeky if he actually voiced his thoughts to the saleswoman, however, so instead he gave her his speech about how expensive designer labels were a fashion crutch used by people who didn’t actually know how to dress well and therefore needed the reassurance of a high price tag. When this failed to diminish the saleswoman’s enthusiasm for the overpriced t-shirt Eric simply remarked, “Nar, it’s rubbish,” and that seemed to have the desired effect.

  When he had finished assembling his wardrobe Eric was overall pretty pleased with his purchases, although not one hundred percent satisfied, but he told himself this was a good thing because if you ever become one hundred percent satisfied with your wardrobe you run the risk of getting comfortable and not upgrading when the latest trends inevitably move on six months down the line.

  There was one t-shirt in particular that he was particularly pleased with which had the slogan, ‘Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end,’ printed on it. Eric reckoned it was entirely likely that there would be times when his mission wouldn’t be going exactly to plan and during those times the t-shirt would ensure he stayed determined and motivated, and therefore the t-shirt was an essential purchase. And besides, perhaps more importantly, it had a really cool pattern on the front which extended onto the right shoulder and looked really sharp.

  Once his clothing purchases were completed Eric didn’t waste another second and caught the first magnapod down to Ko Pagna. He was a bit disappointed when he took his seat and found himself sat opposite a mad old bloke who was keen to engage in a conversation as to whether celery or carrots were the best addition to a cheese sandwich, but the journey only lasted less than two minutes so Eric didn’t have to put up with the annoying old bloke’s patter for very long before he was quickly at his destination.

  As he emerged from the magnapod station at the other end of his journey, the sun was beating down gloriously on a typically scorchingly hot day on Ko Pagna and another one of those smiles that hurt his cheeks appeared on Eric’s face.

  ‘Ah … class!’ he thought to himself. ‘What a total fluke I am!’

  He quickly booked himself into the Sunny Heaven Beach Resort which seemed to be very strongly recommended when he was doing his research on the Galactic Information Network, and then headed straight down to the beach.

  ‘Ah … yes! What a double fluke I am!’ he thought to himself as he took in the lushness of his surroundings. Back on Earth, Eric had been to many of the best beaches in the world and this was easily a match for any of them. Not least because there seemed to be a considerably high quantity of totally fit lasses sunbathing on it. ‘Hey, Jixyl and Azleev were right about there being a total load of cream on Fem, like,” Eric thought to himself.

  So he quickly found himself a nice spot on the beach and spent the afternoon listening to his ts4 player[48] whilst enjoying the sunshine. Then after a few hours of sunbathing he went to get himself something to eat and was pleased to discover that the food on Ko Pagna was superb. Then as the evening arrived he finished off the day by heading down to the clubs on the beach. Whilst the music wasn’t up to the standard Eric had been used to on Earth, it was still considerably better than the music on the in-flight entertainment system which was a big relief to Eric. And as an added bonus, one of the clubs, known as The Hang Out Club, had a podium outside it on the beach for diquintenoled party lovers to dance on.

  Eric was especially chuffed about this discovery as in his opinion dancing on a dance floor versus dancing on a podium was like watching video versus watching DVD. Once you had danced once on a podium, dancing on a dance floor again was never quite the same. So he rounded off the night with an hour or so of podium dancing before returning to his hotel room.

  Then as he lay down to reflect on his first day in Ko Pagna he realised that since arriving in Ko Pagna he hadn’t even thought for a single moment about his mission. The trouble was he was just too excited about being here to worry about trivial stuff like the possible extinction of the human race or anything insignificant like that.

  ‘And besides, I’m entitled to one day to just chill out and relax,’ he told himself as he fell asleep.

  But the trouble is, a day of chilling and relaxing is a very enjoyable pastime. So enjoyable in fact, that it can easily become two days of chilling and relaxing. And that in turn can easily become three…

  Chapter Three – Sniffless Times

  Eric’s second day on Ko Pagna followed a pretty much identical pattern to his first day, with the exception that as he fell asleep this time he told himself, ‘I don’t want to dive straight into things. I need time to suss everything out first.’

  Eric’s third day was once again very similar to the first two days with the exception that as he went to sleep this time he told himself, ‘I need to formulate a plan and strategy before I start putting the mission into practise.’

  The fourth, fifth and sixth days were pretty different, though. Whilst walking along the beach on the morning of day four Eric noticed that a Beach Soccer Tournament was being held in Ko Pagna. So, being a big football fan, Eric signed up straight away and was fairly
pleased that his team made it to the quarter-finals, although he was certain the goal that knocked them out should have been disallowed for a handball earlier in the move. He realised that playing beach soccer wasn’t strictly the reason why he had been sent to Fem, but he justified it to himself once again by telling himself that he was only doing the things that made him happy, and happy people are more attractive and therefore have more chance of scoring, and therefore it was essential that he indulged himself in all the things he loved doing. Besides, he had now met some new people and it was always easier to score when you went out with a group of friends.

  The seventh and eighth days involved more sunbathing, more listening to tunes on his ts4 player, more lush food and more heading down to the clubs on the beach on the night-time with his new beach soccer team-mates to get diquintenoled up (or not, in Eric’s case). Sadly though, they didn’t involve snogging any Femling lasses.

  When Eric checked his A.T.S. account on the ninth day he noticed he had received quite a few messages.

  The one from Monty read:

  ‘Alright, how’s it going? Scored with any fit alien lasses yet?’

  To which Eric replied:

  ‘Alright, I’m having a class time, like. Honestly, you should see the beach. It wops off any beach on Earth, like. And the clubs are pretty good as well. Wasn’t too sure about the music at first but it’s starting to grow on uz now.

  Entered a Beach Soccer Tournament the other day and went out in the quarter-finals cos we had a dodgy ref (so as you can see, it’s canny similar to football on Earth).

  Haven’t snogged any lasses yet, though. I reckon I’m probably not going to either cos I’m a total bottler without alcohol. So if you’ve got any savings in the bank it’s probably best to get them spent over the next year or so, cos I reckon everyone on Earth’s gonna die, like.

  Anyway, I’m off down the beach to catch some rays so speak to you later.

  Eric.’

  The message from Garth was pretty similar, as was Eric’s reply. The message from Jixyl read:

  ‘How’s it going on Fem? Have you snogged any lasses yet?’

  To which Eric replied:

  ‘Haven’t managed to snog any lasses yet. I’m just sort of settling in at the moment and sussing things out before I start putting my strategies into practise.’

  In reality Eric had lost all confidence and pretty much given up on the mission but he figured it would be inconsiderate to tell Jixyl this, after all the trouble he and Azleev had gone to, so that was why he decided to give his reply to Jixyl a more optimistic tone than the messages he sent to Monty and Garth. Besides, if Jixyl thought that Eric had given up on the mission then he and Azleev might decide to stop putting funds into his credit account.

  The final message, from Azleev, read:

  ‘You need to keep us updated more regularly. It’s been over a week now. What’s going on? How are things going with the mission? Are you making any progress?’

  To which Eric replied:

  ‘Soz, there was a big problem with the G.I.N. access here for a few days while they were updating their network. It seems to be working okay today though, so hopefully it’ll be okay from now on and I’ll be able to keep you updated more regularly.’

  This was of course a blatant lie. The G.I.N. access had been fine and it was just a simple case of Eric being too busy enjoying himself to worry about trivial little things like keeping up-to-date with his A.T.S. messages.

  Eric continued:

  ‘Anyway, I haven’t snogged any Femling lasses yet. Just been getting a feel for the place. I feel pretty vibed in now though, so I’m gonna be putting my moves to good use over the next few days.’

  As previously mentioned, this wasn’t strictly true either. Eric had pretty much given up on the goal of scoring. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. Some of the lasses in Ko Pagna, particularly the Sveltish[49] ones, were extremely fit and would be any red-blooded male’s dream. It was just that he couldn’t see it happening and had therefore lost interest and decided instead to just focus on having a good time.

  Basically, it seemed to Eric that the universe had a conspiracy against him at the moment. Not in respect of general life – his general life was totally class – but in respect of scoring. It was a similar story back on Earth. It seemed to Eric that he didn’t seem to have much say in when he scored. There were times when he would put in loads of effort and blatantly be on the pull, but not get so much as a sniff. Then there were other times when he wouldn’t put in any effort at all and yet all the pieces would just seem to fall into place and before he knew it he just seemed to have scored out of nowhere. Sadly, back on Earth the ‘sniffless’ times seemed to be far more common than the ‘everything falls into place’ times and it looked like it was going to be a similar story here on Fem.

  Right now he seemed to be right in the middle of a ‘not so much as a sniff’ sort of a time, which is why he had all but given up on the mission. ‘You can’t beat the will of the universe,’ he told himself.

  But when he received another A.T.S. message from Garth his attitude couldn’t help but change ever so slightly in the favour of optimism.

  Garth’s message read:

  ‘I know what you mean about not having the bottle without alcohol, mate, but keep the faith. Sometimes the universe has a funny way of helping you out when you need it and all the pieces just seem to fall into place.

  Garth.’

  A smile appeared on Eric’s face as he read Garth’s message. Not a cheek-pain inducing smile like the one he experienced on the shuttle. This was more of a wise, reflective, ponderous smile.

  ‘It’s funny how I was just thinking stuff about how sometimes the universe seems to decide stuff for you, and then Garth goes and says the exact same thing,’ he thought to himself. ‘Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.’

  And so as Eric logged out of his A.T.S. account, there was a noticeably greater spring of optimism in his step. A spring of optimism which reflected Eric’s newly rediscovered confidence and positive outlook.

  ‘If the universe is trying to tell me something, then I’m certainly going to listen,’ he told himself. ‘Especially if it’s trying to tell uz some tips on how to increase my chances of scoring.’

  And so later that evening when Eric headed down to The Hang Out Club to meet his new beach soccer mates, he did so with his ears and eyes wide open, fully prepared to listen out for the advice of the universe.

  Chapter Four – Same Same But Different

  Since meeting his new beach soccer mates, Eric had wasted no time at all in introducing them to the game of ‘Would You Rather?’ And happily for Eric they seemed to share his appreciation of the game, so that night when they met up at The Hang Out Club he quickly initiated another scenario.

  “Right, I’ve got one for you,” he remarked to Kesta, one of his new Femling mates. “Would you rather have a night of fun and frolics with a nine out of ten[50], or have a threesome with two seven out of tens?”

  “You’ve got to go for the threesome,” Kesta answered, his tone of voice suggesting it was a stupid question.

  “Aye, I would as well,” Eric agreed.

  Eric and Kesta’s heads turned to Hex, another of Eric’s team-mates from the Beach Soccer Tournament. “I think I’d probably go for the nine out of ten,” Hex remarked.

  “Eh? You’re the first person I’ve ever heard that’s gone for the nine out of ten, like,” Eric revealed.

  “Yeah, how often do you get the chance of a threesome?” Kesta asked, rhetorically.

  “Never ... alas,” Eric reflected, with a sigh.

  “You see, I’ve had a threesome, though,” Hex bragged, although to be fair he wasn’t bragging. He was merely stating a fact that was relevant to the discussion. Although admittedly, it was a fact he thoroughly enjoyed revealing whenever the opportunity presented itself. “And it was good and all that, but it had it’s drawbacks as well.”

  “Like w
hat?” Eric quizzed.

  “Well for starters, it wasn’t with two sevens. Two sevens would have been excellent but it was an eight and a six. And that made it really awkward.

  Cos it’s sort of like if you have two cats and you stroke one cat the other cat gets jealous. So then you stroke the other cat and then the first cat gives you a hacky look as if to say, ‘You like her more than me, don’t you? She got a longer stroke than me,’ so you stroke the first cat again. And then the second cat gives you a look as if to say, ‘How come she got two strokes and I only got one stroke?’ So you end up totally stressing about giving them equal attention.”

  “I didn’t realise you were Dr Doolittle, like, Hex,” Kesta joked.

  “You see that wouldn’t be a problem for me,” Eric interjected, “cos whenever I score I’m just in it for myself. I wouldn’t care if they were getting equal attention or not. You’re just not selfish enough, Hex. That’s your problem.”

  “My selfless attitude has been earning uz a lot of success over the last few days, though,” Hex pointed out. Once again Hex may have sounded as if he was bragging. But once again he was merely making a valid point that was relevant to the discussion. Albeit a point that he took a great deal of pleasure in highlighting.

  “Aye, hopefully some of that success will spread to me tonight,” Eric replied, optimistically. He still had the spring in his step from earlier that evening. In fact he had more than a spring in his step. He had more or less convinced himself that the universe was going to sort things out for him tonight and that, just like Garth had suggested, all the pieces would just fall into place and he would score without even trying. Basically, Eric was convinced that tonight was the night when his mission to save the Earth would finally roll into action.