A collection of twenty short stories from various prompts. Table of Contents:
1. List - What happens when a guy finds a "list"... with his name on it?
2. The Editor - Do you like to be "first"?
3. Day at the Office - Something interesting happened o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~Get In Loser, We're Doing Butt Stuff~
"Todd. You know that some might be offended by that, right?" Pete asked, eyeing my new shirt. I made a point of wearing an alien-themed one whenever I went to his house. I thought it was hilarious. He thought it was... less than hilarious.
"What's not to like?" I asked, staring down at it. "If anyone is going to be offended, it's aliens, right? I mean, it is pretty stereotypical of us to probe–"
"Whoa, whoa, let's not go there. I just wanted to point it out," he said.
"Look, I'm the only one who has the right to be offended, since I'm an alien," I stated.
"Whatever, dude." Pete said, "Look, Mark and Jeremy will be here in a few. Can you behave?"
"Of course. I don't know why you think I couldn't," I said. Then I grinned, "Are you sure there won't be any butt stuff?"
Pete covered his face with his hand. I'd learned that this was not a good sign.
"You're feeling... exasperated and embarrassed on my behalf, right?" I asked. "I got it, didn't I?" I smiled when he nodded.
"Yeah, you're getting better, but tell me why I feel that way," he prompted.
"Umm... don't tell me, I can work this out," I said, beginning to contemplate.
Pete and I were partners in the Planetary Exchange Program. I would spend a year on his planet and then he would spend a year on mine. He said it was like the ultimate exchange student program, only Classified. The goal of the program was to acclimate several units world-wide to each other's home planets before revealing our existence.
Until then, we maintained a disguise, which was easier than most thought. We weren't very different; physically, we were almost identical. After all, it was my species that seeded Earth to begin with using the Neanderthal DNA as something of a carrier species for Homo Sapien...
Homo. "Oh! Mark and Jeremy might be offended because they like to do butt stuff together." I blurted, pleased with myself.
I could see Pete's shoulders hunch as he ran his hands down his face.
"What?" I asked, now disappointed, "I didn't get it?"
Pete sighed, "No, you got it, but, look. We talked about this. Mark and Jeremy are gay. That's the appropriate way of saying they're homosexual."
"Yes, I remember that. I also remember that gay men like to do butt–"
"Stop." Pete held up a hand. "Just stop saying 'butt stuff'. There's obviously a conversation, or three, that we need to have about this."
"So, do I have to change shirts?" I asked as there was a knock on the door. Mark, who was a lifelong friend of Pete's, opened it and walked into the house.
"Honey! I'm home!" Mark shouted. "You got a beer?" he asked, before he and Pete "bro-hugged". That was a less intimate version of a hug that involved the concept of a personal bubble of space and some back slapping. I knew how to do it, but still didn't quite understand the why of it.
Jeremy looked at me and then laughed, loudly. "Dude! I love your shirt. Where'd you get it?" he asked.
I smiled, please that Pete's fears had been unfounded. "Online, where all goodness lives. I can text you the link," I offered. "You know, Pete thought you guys might be offended by it."
Pete rolled his eyes and took a long swig of his beer. He often did that when he was trying not to say something.
"Pete's got a stick up his ass half the time. Ignore him."
I nodded as Mark handed me one of Pete's beers. I unscrewed mine and took a drink. The stuff tasted like trantica piss, but it was the polite, social thing to do.
"So, what are we watching tonight?" Mark asked while Jeremy opened his app for the pizza place and began ordering.
"How about Alien vs Predator?" Pete said, calling up the streaming service he'd found it on.
"Fuck yeah!" Mark said, settling into the couch.
Pete was working on getting me educated about how culture in general saw aliens. We seemed to be classified into three camps: Totally aggressive and bent on human genocide– for a wide variety of reasons, highly intelligent but somehow fascinated with humanity– enough to examine them very thoroughly, or complete imbeciles that somehow managed extrasolar travel and came to visit their cousins.
"So, how would you feel if aliens really did exist?" I asked, masking my heightened interested with another swig of trantica piss.
"I think it'd be awesome!" Jeremy piped up. "I mean, what if they had all this cool technology to share?"
"I don't know man, what if they just wanted the planet or something? Like, we're so below them they have no issue with cleaning us out?" Mark asked, pulling at the label on his bottle.
"Do you really think they'd want to do that?" I asked.
"I guess there's about an equal chance of them being evil as there is of them being good." Mark polished off his beer. "Shit. Who am I kidding? I'd be too curious to not want to know. Bring 'em on!" he said with a smile.
We contemplate the nature of aliens as we waited on the pizza.
Suddenly, Pete's phone rang. It was the Twilight Zone theme, the ringtone that was only for his commanding officer. Two second later, mine buzzed with a text.
Time table accelerated. Mother ship arrived. Code green.
I looked at Pete. He was looking at me while saying a lot of, "Yes, Sir," and "No, Sir." Mark and Jeremy looked at both of us. Things got serious real fast.
Pete hung up. We stared at each other for a heartbeat. I had the go ahead to have "The Conversation" with anyone I deemed important.
"So, guys," I said, turning to Mark and Jeremy, "I've something to tell you..."
