It was a weeknight, so Mudd Normington was sitting in his Car brand station wagon at his usual spot at Lone Wank Point, chowing down on a packet of pretzel powder, when he saw a flickering light in the sky.
“Woah, that must be one of those planets I’ve been hearing so much about!”
The light then exploded into a meadow.
“Aw, jeez! That’s Old Man Farmer’s meadow! And he hates when things explode into it. Especially at night. I better go investigate.”
Mudd went to look up “what just happened??” on Bing but was over his cap, so instead he drove down to the meadow, where he could steal the Wi-Fi.
As Mudd pulled up, he noticed a smouldering futuristic object.
“Hey, when did Old Man Farmer get a crashed spaceship?”
A green figure came out of the strange wreckage and approached Mudd’s car.
“No thanks buddy, just got them washed.”
The alien stared.
“Wait, you’re not a squeegee guy. You’re a alien! That makes much more sense. Hey alien, do you come in peace? Or hate? Or in the middle? Or neither? Stop muttering “peace” and answer me, damn it!”
The alien looked confused.
“Oh, where are my manners? This is a car. It’s got a radio and everything! No reception but still, handy feature. Hey, so wanna be best friends? I’ll take that angry staring as “yes please, let’s go get some burgers from that place near the petrol station and maybe some onion rings too, in fact, yeah definitely onion rings, oh hang on, they’re closed on Wednesdays, OK lets go to the place across from the mattress factory.””
Later at Chump Jelly’s Lamington Hut, Mudd opened up his third packet of “Chockie Cheddar Chips” and looked across at his new companion, who was gazing into the sky.
“Yeah, we got a sky here. It’s pretty cool here on Earth, dude, I reckon you’re gonna like it. You’ll need a new identity though if you’re gonna wanna fit in. So forget whatever your dumb out of space name is. I’m going to call you…Alien Man.”
Alien Man ignored him.
“Hey you haven’t touched your Chunk Nuggets, you a vego or something?
Alien Man pushed one of the nuggets onto his forehead and it dissolved.
“Hey that’s not how you eat, ya silly duffer! I think…”
Mudd pressed a nugget onto his forehead.
“Yeah nah definitely not. Anyways, let’s go home and have some beers yeah? Yeah.”
That night, Mudd excitedly led Alien Man into his home.
“And this is what us earth humans call the bong room! Mind the broken goon bags. Hey Swiggo and Gunk, this is Alien Man. He lives here now.”
“Is he gonna put in for rent?”
“Hmm, good point. Hey Alien Man, you got any moolahs?”
Alien Man reached into his pouch and took out a wad of hundred dollar notes.
“Man, I dunno what those are but you can’t pay nothin’ with them! It’s OK though, I’ll shout you this month’s rent but you gotta do me a favour.”
“No, it’s pronounced fav-our. You’ll learn soon, mate. Anyway, I am way behind in my data entry analysis observations at work. If I bring you in as my work experience kid, you can help!”
Alien Man stared.
“I’ll take that as a maybe. Which I’m gonna round up to a yeah. Thanks buddy! But I better give you a makeover. We can get away with showing off your alien-ness to my stoned housemates, but I dunno if my co-workers would be cool on you being from outer space and shit, and they don’t get high til midday.”
Mudd cranked up his favourite makeover playlist and grabbed a jacket from one of his bedroom’s clothes puddles.
“Try this on, Alien Man! Gasp! It’s perfect! OK, makeover completed. We’re ready to fool us some idiots.”
The next day at Data Entry Enterprises, Mudd showed Alien Man around his office.
“…and this is the water cooler. We use it to cool our water. Do you have these bad boys in outer space?”
Alien Man pressed the water cooler and it became two.
“Jeez, well, you clearly don’t have manners schools up there. Answer when spoken to, Alien Man! Oh shit, here comes the boss! Remember your back-story: you’re not an alien! You’re my cousin’s brother who’s fresh from motorcycle school and on parole for shooting twenty cops. Oh hey there, Mr. Wesley!”
“Hmmm, who is this, Mudd? And why is he an alien?”
“Alien Man, run!”
Mudd smashed through a window, realised it was the CEO’s office, and screamed.
That night, Mudd drove Alien Man back to Old Man Farmer’s meadow.
“Sorry Alien Man but I just don’t think this world, or World as we call it, is right for you. I mean for one, you got me fired. And also, I had to get a bunch of stitches from jumping through that window. Oh and you haven’t put in for petrol once! So many reasons that you’re nothin’ but trouble here. You understand right?”
Alien man clicked his finger and a gold nugget appeared.
“Typical, not even listening to me. I’m sorry Alien Man, but you’re gonna have to make out with a tree and leaf. I know your flying saucer has a flat tyre or something but hey, I know a little something or two about repairing toasters so how different can it be?”
Mudd grabbed a hammer from his glove box, got out of the car, tripped, and knocked himself out on the spaceship, impaling himself with the hammer in the process.
Alien Man sighed, revived Mudd, and healed his wound by pressing his stomach.
“Oh, Alien Man, you li’l dummy, here on Earth we use bandages.”
Suddenly Old Man Farmer appeared from the shadows.
“Oh hey there, sonny! I fixed your ship.”
Alien Man smiled, hugged the farmer, gave him three thousand dollars, got into the flying saucer, and flew off into the night.
Old Man Farmer shed a tear and looked up at the brilliance that was life.
“Hey Old Man Farmer, you hiring at the moment, dude?”