Story 537: The Ultimate Thrill Ride

             (At an extremely large outdoor amusement park)

Sibling 1: (After purchasing admission and putting on a wristband while handing another over to Sibling 2) I can’t believe how prices just keep going up and up and up from when we went here as kids!  At this rate, inflation’ll never end!

Sibling 2: I can’t believe you make the same observation every time you buy something lately.

Sibling 1: Oh.  Do I?

Sibling 2: Yes.  I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but I just know you’d say it again when we get something to eat and when we go to the arcade and when we do pretty much anything else here, so I decided to head you off at the pass and save myself the aggravation of having to hear it.

Sibling 1: (Mildly miffed) Wow.  I had no idea – is there anything else I do that irritates you while we’re on the subject?

Sibling 2: Well, now that you bring it up –

Sibling 1: Forget it: right now I wanna go on the swings and have a good time, and by gum, I’m gonna!  (Runs to that ride’s line)

Sibling 2: (Strolls after) Sure – no one’s stopping you.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

Sibling 1: (As both make their fifth circuit through the amusement park) I think we hit all the highlights we wanted, right?  I still can’t get over how amazingly short the lines are!

Sibling 2: Yep: can’t beat going here on a Thursday in September.

Sibling 1: So, wanna do any repeats before we head back home and collapse in satisfied exhaustion?

Sibling 2: (Looks around) Well… not a repeat, but I’ve always had my eye on that one.  (Points to a space shuttle launchpad)

Sibling 1: (Laughs) Heh, yeah, OK.  (Looks back at Sibling 2) …You’re serious?

Sibling 2: Of course.  Why not?

Sibling 1: Because!  That’s the Rocket Ship Space Launcher – and it’s not hyperbole: it literally launches you into OUTER SPACE!

Sibling 2: Yeah?

Sibling 1: (Huffs in disbelief) I know you’re a daredevil, but even you have to admit that’s taking “thrill seeking” a bit too far!  I’m shocked it’s still in operation – last I heard, a group of riders got stuck in orbit and no one’s heard from them since!

Sibling 2: That’s an urban legend: they touched down in Antarctica a day later.

Sibling 1: WHAT?!

Sibling 2: Everybody was fine – eventually – I don’t see what the big deal is.

Sibling 1: Unbelievable.

Sibling 2: Well, I’m going on it; it you’re too much of a coward to join me, I’ll see you from the Moon, then.  (Starts walking toward the ride)

Sibling 1: (Grabs Sibling 2’s arm) Hold on: you realize this might be a little too much for you to handle, right?

Sibling 2: (As Sibling 1 lets go) Are you joking?  Don’t you remember the time I rode the Colossal Cavernous Cretinous Coaster?

Sibling 1: You must’ve been with your buddies on that trip – I’ve never even heard of it!

Sibling 2: (Chuckles while staring off in reminiscence) Few have, for only those deemed worthy in mind, body, and spirit are allowed to even learn of its existence, let alone ride it.

Sibling 1: …For real?

Sibling 2: (Still staring into the distance) It was a thing of beauty: 40 loops; 360° spins every five seconds; more than 80% of the ride is spent upside-down; the cars were reversed at least four times on the tracks; and our bodies completely broke free from gravity’s greedy grasp for a solid minute.  I’ve never experienced anything so transcendent in my entire life, and I doubt I ever will again.

Sibling 1: Oh, please.

Sibling 2: (Turns back to Sibling 1 and points at the launchpad) This one might run a close second though, and I think you should experience something that monumentally profound at least once in your life, too.

Sibling 1: I don’t get why I should: I already went on the Suborbital Slingshot with you today, against my better judgement.

Sibling 2: And you didn’t regret it, right?

Sibling 1: Mildly!  My stomach is still up in the clouds somewhere!

Sibling 2: So you won’t miss it when we go on this one – maybe you’ll get it back on the way down!

Sibling 1: (Sighs in defeat) You owe me.

Sibling 2: (Loops an arm around Sibling 1’s shoulders to lead them both to the ride) What for?  It’s not like I need a guardian or something to go on the ride.  If anything, you’ll owe me for the awesome experience you’re about to have.

(Since there is no line, the Ride Operator leaning against the control panel wakes up and straps Sibling 1 and Sibling 2 into their seats, placing spacesuit helmets over their heads and hooking them up to oxygen tanks)

Ride Operator: (Goes back to the control panel and grabs a loudspeaker) OK, keep all limbs immobile at all times; keep breathing no matter what; and if anything goes wrong, hit the red button on your seat.

Sibling 1: (Through the helmet’s microphone as Ride Operator completes the final pre-flight checks) And how are we supposed to hit the red button if our limbs are immobile at all times?!  (To Sibling 2)  The instructions need a little workshopping, it seems.

Sibling 2: (Bouncing lightly in the seat) Yeah, I wanna get off.

Sibling 1: Heh-heh, yeah.  (Turns to Sibling 2 and sees that the latter’s face is extremely pale) Are you kidding?

Sibling 2: (Shakes head slowly back and forth) Nope.

Sibling 1: I don’t believe it – how is this any different from the Colossal Whatever-Whatever Coaster?!

Sibling 2: (Barks out a laugh) That was a baby ride – they had to wake me up when it was over so I would get out.  This?!  Is off the map!

Sibling 1: (Yells over the sound of a massive exhaust release from the ride’s engines) You’re the one who talked me into riding this thing, and now you wanna bail?!  You are not leaving!

Sibling 2: (Squeezes eyes shut as the ride begins to vibrate violently) I regret everything I’ve ever done in my life!

Sibling 1: AND I HATE YOUUUUUU – (Ride launches into space) UUUUUUUU…!!!

(Sibling 1 and Sibling 2 scream as they exit Earth’s atmosphere; the capsule reaches escape velocity, then hovers in semi-orbit above the planet)

Sibling 1: (As they gaze out into the vastness of space) Wow.  Talk about transcendent.

Sibling 2: …Is that Mars?

Sibling 1: I think so.

Sibling 2: Wow. Makes everything planet-side seem rather insignificant and pointless, huh.

Sibling 1: I’ll say.  I’m starting to question the meaning of my whole existence right now.

Sibling 2: Same.

(A spaceship flies up to them and a voice beams into their helmets)

Voice: Earth Creatures: Return to your doomed planet and cease your pollution of the rest of the universe!  This is your final warning!

Sibling 1 and Sibling 2: What in the –

(They scream again as the ride begins to free fall and re-enter Earth’s atmosphere)

Sibling 1: (Sees that both of their seats’ red buttons have started flashing) What does that mean?!

Sibling 2: Guess there’s an emergency!  It’s getting a little hot in here, so I think it’s a distinct possibility we may be burning up on re-entry!

Sibling 1: For the love of – so do we both have to hit a button, or does just one of us have to hit a button?!

Sibling 2: I dunno!  (Tries wriggling a thumb to the nearest button) I can’t reach it – what about you?!

Sibling 1: Maybe!  (Reaches thumb to the nearest button) Yeah, I think so!

Sibling 2: At least one of us’ll make it, then!  I would never have forgiven myself if it was me!

Sibling 1: Don’t be so dramatic!  I’m gonna hit it now!

Sibling 2: Go ahead!  And farewell!

Sibling 1: Oh, shut it!  (Hits the button; the ride along with Sibling 1 and Sibling 2 disappear from the sky and reappear back where they started on the launchpad)

Sibling 2: (Frozen in place, along with Sibling 1) Did we just get… beamed up?!

Sibling 1: …I think we technically got beamed down.

(Ride Operator runs over to them, takes off their helmets, and releases their restraints)

Ride Operator: Are you two OK?!

Sibling 1: (Slowly stands) Yeah?  We survived, I think.

Ride Operator: (After helping Sibling 2 stand) Awesome; I forgot before you boarded the ride: could you sign these forms, please?  (Hands over two computer tablets) You can just put your thumbprint on them at this point.

Sibling 1: (As both discombobulatedly do so) Sure, what are we signing?

Ride Operator: Only that you won’t sue the amusement park, the ride manufacturer, and/or me, and that you will never speak a word to anyone else regarding what you saw, heard, smelt, tasted, and/or touched while on the ride or all those parties mentioned will sue you, thanks-bye!  (Gently shoves them through the line gate, slams it shut behind them, and shuts down the ride completely, tossing up a sign that reads “Temporarily Closed for Maintenance”)

Sibling 2: (As both stumble down the steps back to solid ground, holding onto each other for support) That… was amazing.

Sibling 1: Now that we’ve safely landed back on Planet Earth, I actually have to agree.  (They eventually start walking more steadily and stop leaning on each other) Sorry I said I hate you.

Sibling 2: That’s OK; sorry I almost abandoned you at the last minute.

Sibling 1: That’s OK.  (They stop and look around at the crowds of families and friends obliviously going about their day, then simultaneously look up at the twilight sky) You think our lives are forever changed after experiencing something like that?

Sibling 2: I do indeed.  One doesn’t touch the stars and remain the same afterward.

Sibling 1: Huh.  (They look back at each other) So now what do we do with ourselves, knowing what we know?

Sibling 2: Hmmm…. (Looks off in thought for a few moments, then back at Sibling 1) Get some ice cream?

Sibling 1: Sweet.

Story 532: The Spaceship Captain Who Can’t Even Anymore

 [Not based on a true story; I’m just on a Star Trek kick lately and this is a sort-of parody of those series]

(On the minimally staffed bridge of a slightly run-down spaceship, Destination: Unknown)

Captain: (Slouching in The Big Chair and staring broodingly at the various crew members at their various stations doing their various tasks, then at the main viewscreen showing the same images of stars, galaxies, and deceptive nothingness streaking by.  With a full-bodied sigh, hits a few buttons on an arm of The Big Chair) Captain’s Log: Space Date 4… 3… 2… 1...?  It’s March 14, 2724 – I barely learned the metric system on Earth, you think I’m gonna learn another standardized set of measurements more random than the English system?  Whatever: just doing the obligatory check-in where I note that it’s business as usual.  We continue on our unending mission to who-knows-where in order to do who-knows-what, getting into all sorts of shenanigans along the way.  Whoever’s bright idea it was to stick hundreds of terrestrial-based beings into an oversized tin can, continuously pump fake atmosphere into it, use controlled explosions to shoot it off into a vacuum and hope for the best, oughta be smacked upside the head.  I mean, what is the point of all this anyway?  Discovery?  We’re not discovering anything – every planet and celestial phenomenon we encounter as we stumble along the stars either is already known by the beings who live there, or is so incompatible with our own flora and fauna that the best we can do is point and say “Ooh that’s nice!” and move on.  Anything else messes up the civilizations that were doing perfectly fine before we got there, starts yet another war, or at best perpetuates the cycle of codependency.  And don’t get me started on what goes on board here during the downtime between stops on our improvised itinerary: we’ve got more experiments going awry than ones that have any practical application; equipment malfunctioning more often than it works that it’s a bona fide miracle we haven’t all been blown out into space or sprouted extra body parts; and half the crew hooking up with the other half that I’m frankly amazed that any work gets done.  And if I have to sign one more inane report on ship’s systems that should be running themselves at this point, I am literally going to tear my own head off.

Lieutenant: (Has been standing next to The Big Chair the entire time) Captain?

Captain: (Turns to Lieutenant) Yeah?

Lieutenant: I have a report for you to sign.

Captain: (Stares balefully at Lieutenant for several seconds) Computer: delete that log entry.

Computer: Log entry deleted.

Captain: (Takes the tablet that Lieutenant is holding out, uses a stylus to scribble at the bottom of the screen, and hands it back) All done – I feel so fulfilled.

Lieutenant: (Stares a moment at the screen) Thank you, Captain, but this doesn’t appear to be your name at the bottom.

Captain: That’s because it isn’t.

Lieutenant: May I ask – ?

Captain: I’d rather you didn’t, but go ahead.

Lieutenant: What does “TL;DR” stand for?

Captain: (Chuckles) It’s an ancient Earth phrase that comes in very handy in situations like these, Ensign.

Lieutenant: …It’s Lieutenant, actually, Captain.

Captain (Brow furrows in confusion) Since when?

Lieutenant: Since you promoted me last year.

Captain: I did?  What for?

Lieutenant: I believe the reason you gave was “Unexpected Competence.”

Captain: (Thinks for a moment, then laughs) Oh right, now I remember.  (Pointedly addresses the rest of the bridge crew) It was so rare.  (They duck their heads in shame as Captain turns to Lieutenant again) OK, we’re done; what’re you still hanging around for?

Lieutenant: I’m waiting to be dismissed, Captain.

Captain: You’re a full-grown adult, Lieutenant; you don’t need my permission to live.

Lieutenant: True, but we’re military so I do need your permission to leave.

Captain: Ugh, enough of that nonsense.  (Taps another few buttons on the arm of The Big Chair) Attention, ship inhabitants: this is obviously your Captain speaking.  New rule: when a conversion is clearly over, feel free to buzz off instead of waiting for me or any other so-called “superiors” to tell you when to go, and if turns out we’re not finished then we’ll order you back.  Captain – OUT!  (Taps another button to turn off the intercom, then stares pointedly at Lieutenant)

Lieutenant: Oh, right – bye.  (Trots to the bridge lift to exit)

Captain: (Smiling at the retreating figure) I knew I made you Lieutenant for a reason!  (Leans back in The Big Chair and starts spinning it from side-to-side, sighing again) I’m bored – somebody put on a movie!

Pilot: (Turns around in chair to face Captain) Um, Captain, we need the main viewscreen to navigate.

Captain: No you don’t – the computer and sensors are doing all the work and you’re only telling them where we want to go.  And the viewscreen just uses psychology to trick our minds into thinking we’re actually getting somewhere in a universe that has no beginning and no end.  (Pilot turns back to the controls, flabbergasted; Captain opens a panel next to The Big Chair, rummages around a bit, and pulls out a can of soda) Computer: tap into the kitten cam feed of the Humane Society in New Jersey and patch it through to the bridge’s viewscreen.

Computer: Accessing kitten cam feed.

(The starscape on the viewscreen is replaced by kittens playing with toys, napping, and overall being cute)

Captain: Heh-heh; sweet.  (Pops open the can’s tab with one hand and slurps the drink)

(An alert sounds)

Communications Officer: Captain, a ship from the star system we designated as Kepler-186 has suddenly appeared off our port bow!

Captain: (Nearly spits out the drink) “Suddenly appeared”?!  Who fell asleep at the lookout station?!

Communications Officer: Their ships have technology to hide themselves before making a dramatic entrance, Captain!

Captain: Oh right, I forgot they had that – wish we did.

Communications Officer: They’re asking us to pick up on the party line, Captain!

Captain: (Drops the soda can into the open panel and slouches again, head lolling back on The Big Chair) Arggghhh, what do those douchebags want noooow??!!

Communications Officer: We’ll probably find out in a few seconds once we pick up, Captain.

Captain: (Cracks jaw) Computer: replace the kitten cam feed with the incoming call.

Computer: Replacing kitten cam feed with incoming call.

(Kittens are replaced by the face of an angry-looking soldier)

General: Earth vessel –

Captain: (Head snaps from side to center) WHAT?!

General: (Momentarily taken aback) This is the warship –

Captain: We know what your ship’s name is, weirdo; it’s written in huge letters all over the hull.  (General is stunned into silence) WHAT DO YOU WANT?!!!

General: (Regains composure) You have trespassed in our space and have 30 seconds to move along or we will bombard you with artillery!  And possibly destroy you, but that outcome’s never a guarantee.

Captain: (Rolls eyes) We’re nowhere near your space – and besides, no one owns space, it just is; none of it can be yours and you can’t tell anyone what to do or where to be!

Pilot: (Turns around again) Actually, Captain, according to a memo sent from headquarters yesterday, this sector is now considered their space.

General: Aha!  You were told!  And we do so own it!

Captain: (Finally sits up and speaks to Pilot through clenched teeth) Then why are we in it right now?

Pilot: I may have been a little distracted in my duties lately, Captain; my apologies.

Captain: …If you even hint that high-school-couples’ drama has nearly led to an intergalactic incident, I will personally court-martial the both of you.  (Pilot turns back around and focuses intently on keeping the spaceship hovering in place)

General: Well, Captain?  Will you shove off or not?

Captain: (Leans back again) So, what, you want us to move four inches to the left or something?

General: “Inches”?

Captain: How far do we have to move ourselves in order for you to be content?

General: Oh, not far – 1,000 light years should be sufficient.

Captain: (Eyes widen) Are you kidding me?!  Even at top speed that’ll take us – (Counts on fingers) over a year!  And you only gave us 30 seconds!

General: Which have now passed, so it seems you leave us no choice.  (To off-screen crew) Blast `em to smithereens, good people! 

(Call abruptly ends and General’s face is replaced by the kittens as the spaceship rocks from laser beams hitting it)

Captain: (Falls out of The Big Chair, then scrambles back onto it) Are our defenses even working?!

Tactical Officer: The outer energy fields should hold for at least another minute, Captain, so that’s something.

Captain: Unbelievable.

(Lieutenant re-enters the bridge from the lift)

Lieutenant: Captain!  (The latter whips around in The Big Chair to face the former) “Too Long; Didn’t Read”?!

Captain: (Nearly falls onto the floor again as the spaceship rocks violently) Are you for real right now?!  Get outta here, and go wherever it is you nerds hide during fights like this!

Lieutenant: (Gasps while holding onto a railing as the spaceship rocks again) You don’t even know what I do here?!

Captain: No, and I don’t care and never will, nerd!

Lieutenant: (Runs back to the bridge lift and turns around to face Captain defiantly) That’s the last time I make sure the life support system works at maximum!  (Lift doors close on anguished triumph)

Captain: Cripes.  (Spaceship rocks the hardest it has yet; Captain spins around to Tactical Officer) What’s keeping you?!  Fire back!

Tactical Officer: How so, Captain?  Lasers?  Bombs?  Sledgehammers?

Captain: (Holding onto The Big Chair’s arms for dear life) I don’t know; use your best judgement!

(Tactical Officer shrugs and hits a button; a burst of light hits the other vessel, which immediately shuts down)

Captain: What’d you do?!

Tactical Officer: Hit `em with an EMP – seemed best.

Captain: (To self) I didn’t even know we had one of those.  (Hits a few buttons on The Big Chair’s arm; General materializes on the bridge) So!  You were saying?

General: This is outrageous!  You not only trespass in our newly-declared property, but you’ve now doomed my entire crew to a slow death by suffocation or hypothermia, whichever decides to act faster!  Once our homeworld hears about this abomination, they’re gonna go nuts!

Captain: Too bad: picking a fight and then losing it spectacularly comes with the literal territory.

General: We were defending ours!

Captain: From what, our nonexistent exhaust?!

General: From your presence!  We don’t like you, and we don’t want anyone tromping through our interstellar backyard!

Captain: Feeling’s mutual, but you don’t see me blowing up your ship about it.

General: But you were told!

Pilot: (Turns around in chair) We were told, Captain.

Captain: (To Pilot) I don’t want to hear another word out of you ever again.  (To General as Pilot sheepishly turns back around) All right, since you and your homeworld are clearly going to be eternal pains about all this, I’ll make it real simple.  Computer: target the other vessel and relocate it – (Smiles demonically at General) INTO EARTH’S SUN.

General: WHAT?!

Computer: Incapable of executing command: not enough power exists on this vessel to transport that amount of mass over that amount of distance.

Captain: (Sighs and leans back to address the ceiling) I am surrounded by insubordination!  (Pushes off from The Big Chair and approaches General) Fine!  We’ll bring your crew over here, help you fix your ship, you go on your merry little way, we go on to… wherever out of here, and none of us ever speak of this again.  Happy?!

General: No, but it’ll do.

Captain: Good, `cause I’m hungry so I’m going on break.  (Trots off to the bridge lift, leaving no one in charge so everyone looks confusedly at each other)

(Hours later, the two repaired ships part ways)

Captain: (Back on the bridge, eating a candy bar; hits a few buttons on an arm of The Big Chair) Captain’s Log: The past few hours have been extremely annoying and I don’t want to talk about what happened and wind up reliving it, so I won’t.  [Crunch-Crunch] Oh yeah, one more thing: I’m writing up the entire crew for sass.  Even if they don’t to my face, I know they do behind my back.  [Crunch-Crunch] Blazes, these things are tedious – having me “Dear Diary” every five minutes when there’s an objective recorder in the background at all times is the definition of redundancy.  I mean, if the ship crash lands tomorrow, who cares what I thought about the whole thing?  No amount of self-reflection’s gonna unscramble that egg, know-what-I-mean?  [Crunch-Crunch] That’s about it – end log.  (Tosses the candy wrapper like a basketball into a nearby garbage bin) Yes!  Nothing but net.

Pilot: (Turns around in the chair) Captain, I know you never wanted to hear me speak again, but can I ask a question off the record?

Captain: (Opens another panel, grabs a pillow and blanket, reclines The Big Chair, and settles in for a nap) Like I just said if you were eavesdropping properly, the computer records everything like a spy so nothing’s ever off the record.

Pilot: Oh.

Captain: (Closes eyes) OK, what’s up?

Pilot: Well, you clearly don’t want to be out in space –

Captain: No kidding.

Pilot: – so… why did you join a space-exploring organization?  And bonus question: how did you ever get promoted to Captain?!

Captain: (Puts on a sleep mask and curls onto side) I had nothing better to do, and there was a shortage.  Now: continue flying us on our course to nowhere, and no one talk to me for the next six hours – I’ll be deep in multiple dream cycles, which are far more entertaining than this nonsense.

Story 374: The Friend Who Came to Dinner….

 (In Hour 4 of a dinner with friends, Hosts 1 and 2’s eyes glaze over as their guest continues to sit across from them at the dining room table and shows no indication of leaving)

Friend: (Pouring another glass of soda) I don’t know about you two, but I personally think this year is gonna be just as bad as the last one, if not worse.

Host 1: (Stirs slightly out of a partial doze) Hm, what?

Friend: (Gulps down half a glass) Uh-huh.  And if you really think about it, every year on this planet since its very creation has been the worst: volcanoes, ice ages, earthquakes, disease, the great dinosaur wipe-out, the very chemical make-up of the atmosphere changing over and over again, and then we show up, in all our misery, and decide it’s not enough to make each other miserable, let’s bring all Earth’s species and the planet itself in on the fun while we’re at it!

Host 2: Oh, I don’t know about that –

Friend: (Finishes off the glass and slams it onto the table in emphasis; Hosts 1 and 2 jump slightly in their seats) I do know!  And the generations and generations of people trapped in poverty, abuse, despair, bigotry, war, crime, etc. ad infinitum, nine times out of 10 because of the mere fact they were born into this horror show called Life and their surroundings messed them over right out of the starting gate, makes me wish more and more every day that the whole set of shenanigans never even started in the first place.  (Begins nibbling on fennel)

Host 1: (Reluctant to continue the conversation) Is… there someone you want to talk to about all this?

Friend: (In mid-bite) I’m talking to you, aren’t I?  Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh…. (Trails off giggling into the fennel)

Host 2: (Stretches around the back of the chair in order to see the clock in the living room) Oh my, didn’t realize it got so late, maybe it’s time you – (Is cut off by noises of a crowd outside running down the street)

Host 1: (Stands) What’s all that?

Friend: (Still holding the fennel) Humanity standing up for justice, possibly sprinkled with a few who ruin the whole thing for everybody?

(Host 1 goes to open the front door while Host 2 hangs back at the table)

Host 2: Sure that’s wise?

Host 1: Rather see what’s up instead of waiting to find out as something crashes through the window.

Friend: (Points the fennel at Host 1) My thoughts exactly.

(Host 1 opens the door to see a screaming crowd running away from a dragon shooting flames at them all the way down the block.  Host 1 swiftly closes and locks the door and turns around to block it as the house slightly shakes with impact tremors)

Host 1: We didn’t serve alcohol tonight, right?  (Host 2 and Friend shake their heads)

Friend: Well, guess this means we should hole up here for the night and keep constant vigil – I volunteer for third shift.

Host 2: No, this means we need to get out of here now before that thing gets us!

Host 1: (Looks out the front window) It seems to have passed us by.

Friend: Good, we hole up here, then.  (Grabs a nutcracker and goes to work on a bowl of walnuts)

Host 2: (Stares agitatedly at Friend, then joins Host 1 at the door) But my show’s coming on soon!

Host 1: (Stares incredulously at Host 2) There’s a little bit more going on at the moment!

Friend: You two don’t mind me; I’ll can keep busy while you go fight the dragon.  (CRACK)

Host 2: I am not fighting a dragon!

Friend: (Chewing) Good point: dragon’s just doing as dragons do, not its fault we’re its natural prey.  Let `em eat us all; I say good riddance to the lot.

Host 2: Arggggghhhhhhh!!!!

Host 1: You two – (A resounding crash is heard from down the street) Now what?!  (Grabs a baseball bat, unlocks the door, and heads out; Host 2 grabs a butter knife from the dining room table and heads out; Friend grabs another piece of fennel and heads out.  The three run into the street and see a screaming crowd from a different direction running away from a spaceship that had crashed onto the middle of the boulevard.  Two figures emerge from the top hatch)

Alien 1: (To Alien 2, broadcasting telepathically) You see?!  I told you we wanted the fourth planet from the star, not the third!

Alien 2: You said land on the blue and green one.

Alien 1: I said not to land on the blue and green one!  (Gestures to the haphazard screaming runners) Now look where you dropped us!  Right in the middle of these planet-ruiners!  You’d better get us out of here soon before we get sucked into their chaos!  (A passerby runs a hand lovingly over the ship; Alien 1 bats the hand away; to Alien 2) LAUNCH!

Alien 2: Don’t have to tell me twice – at least the red one’s nice and quiet.  (They close the hatch, power up the ship, and take off just before a solar flare streams through the night sky, sending a shock wave that knocks out electricity everywhere.  The screaming crowd now runs in all directions; Host 2 sinks down to the ground and rocks slowly while holding their head; and Host 1 defensively holds up the bat while scanning the area)

Friend: (Starts nibbling on the fennel) So – mind if I put on the coffee for dessert?