The Alien hovered to the front of the A.A.

The Alien hovered to the front of the A.A. meeting and took his chip. 1 year off of the sauce. He'd crashlanded on earth, in Southwest town and now he was sober

Space aliens were illegal aliens in AZ, so he'd started drinking when nobody would hire him. Now sober but still unemployed, the alien's AA sponsor suggested Edwards Air Force Base

and wrote him a glowing recommendation. Cmdr. Decker inspected the phosphorescent ink. "It appears you're qualified to work in Area 51. If you'll make a suction cup print here & he

accepts your gift, you're in. Cmdr. Decker inspected the offering and let it through to the inner room. The "worm" inside peered at the imprint and called it good. "Let him in."

Mr. Worm was Cmdr. Decker's right hand since 1948. Mr. Worm was ageless and knew all about forensic evidence in solving cases like this one, which dated back to 1978. The suspects

couldn't even SPELL 1978, so catching them should be a breeze, despite the aging forensics. Mr. Worm knew his prey quite well. He merely had to set his trap. And wait. A banana,

an apricot, and a false peanut can containing a fake spring-loaded snake was all Mr. Worm needed to get the last laugh. After what seemed like forever, a Dodo bird came hopping by.

I landed close by and seemed to be arguing with itself about something. It was bent over against a tree with his leg up in his arms and giving off sparks. It was a Robot Dodo. That

particular series of Robot Dodo was know for it's general empathy, so I didn't feel too anxious being within it's territory. "Hello?" I asked timidly. "I just

thought you might to play Monopoly," I said, shaking the box. Robot Dodos loved Monopoly. The game lasted for 1000 years until we finally decided to give up and play Xbox instead.