ET Alan

The alien was sitting in MY chair eating MY salmon
‘How d’ya do?’ he said. ‘The name’s Alan.’
‘I don’t care if it’s Jesus Uranus Venus’ I said
blurting out the first thing that came into my head
‘That’s MY salmon! Who said you could have it?’
Alan shrugged. ‘I’m sorry but I’m a salmon addict.’
‘So you’re all like – exploring new worlds and nicking their fish?’
‘I’ll eat plenty of shit but salmon’s my dish.’
‘Don’t you think it would be better to ask permission first?’
‘I know! I know! But where salmon’s concerned – I’m cursed.’
‘You didn’t even leave any for me!’
‘I meant to! Honestly!
But once I get started it’s difficult to stop.’
‘Great!’ I said. ‘That’s amazing, Alan. Thanks a lot.’
He pushed back the empty plate with a tentacle
Loosened a notch on his space suit belt buckle
‘So…have you got anything you wanna ask me?’ he yawned
‘What my ship’s like? Where I was spawned?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘To be honest, Alan, I’m narked
I couldn’t give a shit where your rocket’s parked.
I’d been looking forward to some salmon and broccoli.
This first contact has started pretty rockily.’
‘It’s a thing,’ he smiled, looking shifty and smarmy.
‘Next thing I know you’ll be calling the army.’
‘I wouldn’t waste my breath,’ I said, ‘ET you’re not.’
‘No, I agree,’ he said. ‘ET was hot.
Hey! Wait a second!’ he said, as I wheeled him out.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any trout…?’

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