Sunday Football

A not-so-typical problem in the life of a really bad sci-fi writer.

 

Sunday Football

 

By Dax

 

 

So there I was, sitting at my computer staring out the window at a few hundred square miles of Alaska when I heard a UFO land. Imagine my surprise. Gee, how unexpected for a writer of science fiction to have this happen. I looked out the window but couldn’t see anything. Alaska’s beautiful in July. I heard a knock at the door and descended from my loft studio to the main floor, the front door is at the foot of the stairs. I opened the door.

Yep. An alien. And just my luck, this was not one of your normal, healthy aliens you see on UFO specials. My alien was kind of dumpy, and seemed to have a grouchy attitude right off. I motioned him to come in, and he pretty much just snorted at me as he headed for the couch and grabbed the remote control. He started clicking through the hundred or so stations I get off my dish.

“You a Vikings fan?” were his first words. “Got any beer?” were his second.

Well I was dumbfounded. This is just stupid. Nobody would ever believe it, and I’d be a damned fool for ever submitting a story so plebian. What could I do? I told the guy to leave. He just laughed. The b*****d.

OK, so now what? I threw him half a bag of stale barbequed potato chips and went back up the steps to the loft. When I reached the forth step I could see into my computer room, and there was a message flashing on the screen. Strange considering I’m not hooked up to the web. It said: SOMEONE’S IN YOUR BATHROOM. I thought about it. Big deal. I hit delete. The toilet flushed. I looked down from the loft at the alien still sitting on the couch. He looked up at me and a kind of weird grin crept over one side of his face. A four-foot high “gray” stepped out of the bathroom, glanced up at me, and joined the sloppy one on the couch.

“You’re out of toilet paper.” He stated. I leaned over the railing and cleared my throat. They finally looked up.

“So what the hell is going on here?” I asked.

“We’re out of beer.” Said the gray.

“And these chips are stale.” Added the dumpy one. “Is this how you treat all your guests?”

“Kinda shabby.” Observed the gray, then to the dumpy guy, “Certainly not one of your four-star establishments, is it?”

Now I’m a pretty level-headed person. I pride myself on being patient and understanding, and certainly hospitable, but this was just way too weird to be happening. In an attempt to assess my situation before it got out of hand I looked out in the yard and yep, there it was, a space ship parked on my front lawn. Then I turned to check out the two “guests” sitting on my couch. One gray space alien, one dumpy guy. I noticed the shirt he had on was torn under the arm and had a couple stains in front, probably from food dribbling down his chest.

“Got any salsa or at least some kind of dip for these crappy chips?” asked the gray. This was getting out of hand. I thought about it, and decided to just play along, see what happened. I again descended from the loft and got some salsa out of the fridge.

“Thanks.” They mumbled, then they made some high-pitched noises and started laughing. I assumed that I was the butt of some joke.

“OK, that does it!” I said. What the hell is going on here?” They just looked at me and laughed some more. “Listen you two. This can’t be happening. I don’t care where you’re from or what your business is here, but nobody just lands a goddamn flying saucer in my front yard and comes in to beg for food – and when I think about it,” I addressed the gray, “how did you get in my bathroom?” They both laughed, now harder then before. I was getting mad, but I had to laugh just a little, too. “Is this some kind of joke? Some kind of space alien Candid Camera or something?” They were bent over laughing. Finally the dumpy guy spoke.

“We just wanted to catch the Vikings game. Is that so weird? We’re on vacation and we’re looking for a little relaxation between shifts. Deal with it.”

All I could do was stand there looking at them. What the hell. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I went to the fridge and got myself a beer. “You guys need another?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Yah, and keep ‘em coming.” (Space aliens can be real a******s.) I brought the beers over, then sat down in my recliner to watch the game, still reeling a little from the situation but what the heck, no one would believe any of it so I figured, take it easy.

At half time the dumpy guy got up for a stretch. He inspected the books on a shelf near the TV, then turned to the gray with a cocked smile. “Should we show him the ship?”

The gray grinned big. “Why not?”

“Wanna see the inside of a for-real space ship?” the dumpy one asked me in what seemed to me to be a rather condescending manner.

“Can we go for a ride?” I asked.

“Well, just a short one. We have to get back for the second half.” He replied. Both “men” headed for the front door and began walking toward the glowing disk-shaped thing in my front yard. “Well, you coming?”

I followed them and ended up climbing a short ramp leading inside the space ship. I was absolutely positive this was a dream, and I tried to remember the details in case I wanted to write it all down when I woke up. When we were all inside, the ramp kind of telescoped into the ship and turned into a door, sealing us inside. I heard slight hum as Dumpy pointed out the window at the front of the small room in which we stood. I moved closer and discovered that we were lifting off my yard – fast! There was no sensation of movement as my cabin shrunk to a dot, then continuing to ascend, the horizon began to show curvature of the Earth. We must have been a hundred miles high!

“Wanna go anyplace in particular? Asked the gray, while Dumpy giggled in the background.

“How about Paris?” I suggested. A blur out the front window and there was the Eiffel Tower below us. It took only about 3 seconds. I was in awe. “Too bad this is all a dream.” I muttered under my breath.

“Yep”

“Yep. Anything else you want to see?” I shrugged my shoulders and, (figuring why not?) asked “How ‘bout the dark side of the moon?” This time the blur lasted about 5 seconds, and bam! I was looking at a bunch of dark gray hilly terrain.

“Second half’s starting.” Said Dumpy. The blur, then my yard again. The two of them calmly descended the ramp when it showed up, and marched over to my house. I followed. What else could I do?

“Beer’s warm.” Said the gray. Dumpy nodded. I got new ones from the fridge. We sat down and watched the second half. We didn’t talk much, although they often made the high-pitched sounds during the more exciting plays. It was some kind of language and they’d occasionally interpret, but I was left out of most of it.

After the game, and when I was out of beer, chips, pretzels, even cold pizza, they got up and half-heartedly thanked me for my hospitality, then headed out the door and into their silver disk.

“Hey! What am I supposed to do now?” I hollered out to them before the ramp-door closed.

“You’re a science fiction writer, aren’t you? Write a short story.” Laughed the gray.

“Go ahead. No one will bat an eye.” Added Dumpy. “Oh, by the way, the Vikings are on Monday Night Football next week. Get some beer!” The ramp went up, and the disk lit up a little before basically vanishing into the sky at unbelievable speed, leaving me standing there with a stupid look on my face.

“Like I’d write a story about this one.” I thought.

I went back inside my cabin and sat down at my computer. All I could do was stare at it. The story was way too far-fetched to write. It would make me look like a fourth-grader. Besides it was all a dream. All I had to do now was wake up.

That was two years ago. We’re old buds now. They show up whenever the Vikings or the Twins are playing. They never bring beer. They never bring snacks.

Aliens can be such a******s.

 

 

Reviews

[Ronda]

I LOVE this! Ypu are definatly in the finals... Great write kept me entertained and so funny.... you need to write a book... I'll read it....

[Adela Muresan]

Hmmm� not bad :) .
Even dough it's not a deep piece, I like the way you penned it, and it's kindda' funny =D.

A.M.

[GenMuffin7]

hahahaha