First Contact!

For years we humans have wondered what our first encounter with an extraterrestrial species would be like. Would there be great earthly leaders making speeches? Hordes of scientists taking notes? Flashing lights and supercomputers? The whole world watching with bated breath?

I don't think anyone would have expected that they would land, for that historic first meeting, in a Walmart parking lot.

Anyway, I just happened to be there, along with a hundred other innocent bystanders. Sometimes I think, wow, if I hadn't needed to pick up milk, I'd have missed it, but since there were immediately a hundred fuzzy videos about it on YouTube, I suppose that's OK. But I did get to buy the "I Was There When It Happened" t-shirt afterwards.

I was just walking back to my car when it all started. First there was this incredible flash of light from above. It was like the world exploded! It took everyone totally by surprise - we all flinched and dropped our car keys and shaded our eyes. Then there was this low humming, and an annoying "beep, beep, beep" like someone's truck was backing up, and I looked over at the next row - and there it was.

It didn't look like any spaceship you see in the movies. It looked like a big blue avocado, with tinted, wrap-around windows and a dent in one side, and lots of bumper stickers in weird languages. It was hovering about a foot from the ground, very carefully backing into a parking spot.

You may be wondering why no one was running or screaming. I know this sounds ridiculous, but in those first moments, we all just stood and stared, open-mouthed, while it came to a stop - a lot more neatly than I usually park, to be honest. Then the door on the side opened with that cool 'hissss' sound that every door in every sci-fi movie makes, and a blue mist came billowing out, and we saw the first tentacle.

THAT'S when the screaming started, and the people jumping into their cars and crashing into shopping carts. But there's always one idiot who stays, you know? We're not brave or anything, just stupid. We're like the moths that fly around the porch light - closer and closer, and then - zap! It's Sizzle Time. That was me.

The first one to step out was about seven feet tall, with blue skin and three heads. Each head had one huge eye, three nose holes and a wide mouth. Instead of arms, it had lots of tentacle legs that slapped suckers onto the pavement as it moved. One tentacle was holding a bright green orb about the size of a grapefruit. Oh, and it was wearing a cool silver tunic, but the effect was spoiled by a cartoon character on it with one of its heads saying something rude in a word balloon while it was falling off.

Behind it was a slightly shorter green alien, with three heads, too. This one had hair - well, it was more like halos of skinny tentacles, moving in sort of a hypnotic rhythm, with a perky pink bow in each hairdo.

The first one looked around, saw me, and gestured with a tentacle. I flinched and backed away. I may be dumb, but not that dumb.

It started to move toward me with a slap of tentacles on the pavement, and then stopped. It set the orb down on a shelf that appeared out of nowhere and began to fiddle with a button on the side. It turned the button far to the right, pulled a cord out from the side, stuck it in a port in its neck, and spoke.

I couldn't understand a word. It was all trills and whistles. It could probably tell it wasn't getting through, because the three heads exchanged a look, and it turned and adjusted the knob, and spoke again.

Nope.

Now it was looking annoyed. It turned back and moved the button again. I had the feeling I had just failed the 'brilliant' and the 'acceptable' categories. The only setting left was probably 'barely sentient, but try anyway".

This time, when it spoke, the voice was lower and slower, and I heard, "Scribglock, I can never get this to work..." "Gribvox, dear - not in front of the children!" That was the second alien. Gribvox muttered, "Yes, Florba."

Now I noticed three smaller beings peeping out of the portal. They each had three heads, too, with their own cute kiddie hairstyles moving in different rhythms. The littlest one waved at me shyly with a tentacle, and I lifted a hand and waved back.

Florba turned to them and said, "Children, get back into the ship, now." In the tradition of children everywhere, they ignored her. "Are we there yet?" said one. "I need to go to the bathroom." said the next, in the timeless words of every juvenile species in the universe. The third and tallest one pointed at me. "Cool! Mom, can I have it? You said I could have a souvenir!" Florba shook two of her three heads. "Now, dear, you already have a lummok, and besides, this one isn't ship-trained. It would probably splork on the rug.'

I was insulted. I know I'm just a lowly human, but I would never splork on the rug. Whatever that means.

Now the first one - Gribvox - beckoned to me with a tentacle, and spoke to me in this really annoying, superior tone of voice, pausing between every word: "You there. Do - not - panic. We - mean - you - no - harm."

Sorry, but didn't your kid just ask for me as a souvenir? Still, I inched forward a bit. He beckoned again, impatiently. I gulped and took another step forward. He didn't seem to have any weapons, but what if he could reach out and put me in a Vulcan mind meld? And what if I didn't have any interesting thoughts in there to meld with?

But suddenly I realized that I was going to get to do something no one on Earth had ever done before - talk to an alien!

"Um, welcome to Earth." I wish my voice didn't sound so squeaky. What if his kids thought I was a chew toy, and gave me to the lummok?

Seeing that I hadn't gotten ripped apart or abducted, everyone had left their dented cars to run over, clutching their phones, ready to film all this and post it on YouTube.

Gribvox was looking around. I knew it! Any second he was going to say those immortal words, "Take me to your leader." Here it comes -

He turned back and looked at me. "Wait, This isn't Rigel Seven?"

What? "Um, sorry, no."

Florba said, in that annoying voice that every spouse knows, "I TOLD you that was the wrong exit. You never listen to me!"

Gribvox reached into a pocket in the side of his cool metallic toga, paused, then tried the other side. Florba handed him some kind of space device the size of a ballpoint pen and said in a snooty voice, "Here it is. You left it on the particle accelerator. Again."

His outer two heads exchanged an exasperated look, and then he took it and tapped a button on the top. A buzzing blue line appeared, expanded into a screen and hovered in the air. The crowd went, "Whoa!" and applauded, and we watched intently while he zoomed in on what looked a lot like the Milky Way, and then to a galaxy nearby.

Then he sighed. "Well, that's just great. I can just imagine what your mother will say when we're 777 light-years late for dinner."

He turned back to me and spoke again. "Thank - you - for - your - kind - assistance. Perhaps when you become intelligent, we may see you at the next Intergalactic Conference, in 3,540.33 years."

Florba leaned over and whispered something to him, and his central mouth frowned. "Oh, that's right. I read about that in Celestial Times." He turned to me again. "Unless, of course, a superior species has replaced you by then. By the way, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but there is a very effective cure for climate change. You just need to -"

Just then the communicator orb thingy gave off a terrible screech, and we inferior humans all cringed and clapped our hands over our ears. By the time I looked up again, they were all heading back into the ship. The last thing I heard was the kids yelling, "Those guys were boring!" "I liked the sea slugs on Balton Six better!" "Can we go visit an octopus while we're here? Or a dolphin? My teacher says they're - "

Then the door closed, and purple lights started flashing all around the rim, and the ship began to move forward slowly. We all backed up, a hundred phones held high, taking selfies with an avocado, and it began that humming noise again. Then it zoomed up, leaving a silver trail of cosmic coolness, and took off at a slant, just clearing the blue Walmart sign. But before it blinked into oblivion, it did one more thing: it began to swoop around, high above us, and that silver trail looped into a message:

"GOOD... LUCK..."