Orion

The first thing that tipped me off to the aliens was the Ring. I mean, if you put on a ring that happened to be lying on the ground, and suddenly silver stuff covers you head to toe, and you start changing into some kind of super-hero, your first thought isn’t exactly -“Wow, first toasters, now this. Good work NASA!” No way. Your first thought, at least mine was, would be more along the lines of- “What in the-!” So anyway, the second tip-off was the language. This silvery stuff then begins talking to you, in some weird combination of clicks and tongue twister sounds! Ever seen the movie ‘Star Kid’? And the 20th Century version of ‘My Favorite Martian’ with Christopher Lloyd? Yeah well, mix those two Suits together, and you’ve got mine. Only, I can’t understand a word he says! It’s in...Neptunian or something. Go figure. When I first experienced the suit, I was just walking calmly down the street, dreaming of the upcoming school year, where I would soon be starting my Junior year. My thoughts were centered on the obvious three BIG decisions: Should I try out for Fullback position? Should I try again to sway the glamorous Amelia “Amy” Conner into being my girlfriend? And finally, should I take up my eleventh year of martial arts? It was considered unbearably dorky by the entire school, but since I was able to wipe the floor of whoever I wanted (although I never would, Mom) it was borne in silence by my friends. All these incredibly heavy loads were weighing down my mind as I walked home, my Chihuahua (Yoda) in tow. The silver of the ring didn’t catch my attention at first, I figured it to be a cigarette foil, or Wrigley’s wrapper that hadn’t made it into the distant trash can. However, when Yoda decided that a metal ring looked okay to eat, and promptly started choking on it, my mind was yanked out of the glittering green pool of Amelia’s eyes, and down at my hacking Chihuahua.

“Yoda? Are you okay?” Myself, the genius asks. Of course, Yoda just made small noises, and jerked occasionally. I promptly did the RIGHT THING (even though later, I found out that several people filed pet assault charges against me) and leaning down, smacked Yoda. The ring flew out of his mouth, and landed a foot away. Yoda looked up at me in doggy admiration, and filled his eyes with love that only Barney, Oprah, and Tammy Fay Bakker could accomplish. For the life of me, I have no idea what possessed me to do what I did next, honestly, I don’t. No sane person would have. I stepped over, crouched, looked around, and put on the ring. Now let’s recap. I just slipped the ring that my dog had been choking on, on my right middle finger. HELLO, ANYBODY HOME, RYAN? THE RING IS COVERED IN DOG SLOBBER! Okay, it was not one of my best idea’s, but at the time, it seemed fine. Actually, aside from the slobber, dirt, and minuscule bacteria, it was a pretty cool ring. It was kind-of big, the size of a guy’s class ring, with a series of stars in a constellation. I didn’t recognize the constellation off hand, although I should have. How can you concentrate in Astronomy when Amelia sits besides you? Anyway, a few days later, I accidently slipped the ring upside-down, so the top was facing my palm. Suddenly, it’s like mercury, or silver liquid is sliding all over my skin, actually growing to cover me! I kept my cool and did what every macho, cool guy would do--I screamed and waved my hand like a madman shooing flies in a fast-forward mode, running around at top speed. Not like it did anything, but it made me feel as though something was being accomplished. To any girls reading this: guys freak out just as well as girls. To any guys reading this: The jig is up. Well, by the time I calmed down enough to think (if wondering if your sanity is intact constitutes as thought) I was almost sure that this ring didn’t come from earth. I mean, come on! If science can’t even come up with a microwave that isn’t confusing, how would they EVER come up with stuff like this? Then came the experimentation. I’ve seen enough cartoons and sci-fi to know that when you’re covered in an alien suit, you’d better find out what it does before the government shows up to mess around with your mind. Well first, of course, I looked in the mirror...and was disappointed. It was merely a silver suit, covering all of me seamlessly. No eye holes, which was odd, because I could see fine, and no mouth holes, odd, since I could breathe. Just silver. Now I proceeded to do the dumbest stuff I could think off. I tried to stab myself, but only broke my mom’s best steel knife, there was no damage to me, or the suit. Then I tried to burn my arm off, with no result other than a quick demonstration of the fire extinguisher for Yoda. Then came beatings, and finally, in a fit of inspiration, I went and filled the bathtub with water, and carried in our new toaster. I was confident that no harm would come to me, after all, I wore an alien suit. This thought stemmed from the same thinking that leads guys to pull the ‘yawn-stretch- arm-around-shoulder’ move at the movies. Luckily, I had barely raised my foot to step into the tub, when my mother came home. I froze, in anticipation of her comment to my apparent attempt at suicide, but my small wildfire fiasco and the twisted remains of her knife caught her attention first.

“Ryan Alexander Jones!” My next problem was the suit. The ring had disappeared! Frantically, I dropped the toaster, and locked the door. My mother knocked seconds later.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Mind a blank, I yelled out the only reasonable excuse.

“Science project!”

“You’re not in school!” Oh...yeah. Oops.

“It’s for a friend!” Pause.

“It’s ecstasy, isn’t it?” I hesitated.

“Making a project for a friend? It’s fun, yeah, but hardly-”

“No Ryan, the drug! You’re on ecstasy aren’t you!” I rolled my eyes, and continued trying to figure a way to get the ring off.

“No Mom. I don’t take ecstasy.”

“What-”

“Or LSD.”

“--or--”

“Or opium, or hash-hish, or Angel Dust, or Dragon Ice, or Football, or weed, or pot!” My mom sighed.

“Well, as long as I know you’re not doing anything weird, just don’t electrocute yourself!” I glanced at the toaster, and shrugged.

“Okay.” Her retreating voice made it to my ears.

“And get the kitchen cleaned up. The Conners are coming over for dinner at seven.” I froze. Conner. Amelia. Kitchen. Ground Zero. My attempts to get the suit off went into overdrive.

“Get off me!” I muttered. Something moved, and a low male voice matched my level.

“Ger’ack med afir shak’ack?” I blinked, and repeated slowly.

“Garret med a fear Shaq’s back?”

“Ger’ack med afir shak’ack?”

“Gerrack med afir shakack?” This time the voice sounded impatient. I licked my lips, and used all my concentration.

“Ger’ack med afir shak’ack.” Silently, the suit sucked back towards my hand, and formed back into the ring, base side up. I leaned against the wall in relief. Next hurdle to be cleared: my dinner date with Amelia. Wouldn’t you know it, I never got to eat with her. My mom told me to go take out the garbage, which consisted mainly of her ruined knife, and quite a few scorched towels. Not to mention the now-empty fire extinguisher, and the hundred or so paper towels used to clean up the afore-mentioned fire extinguisher. Never mind the fact that I was ready to go over Chad’s house to discuss guy stuff. (E.g...Amelia.) There I was, backpack and all, and she tells me to throw away the garbage while I’m up. Being the good son I am, I comply. Now of course, when my life is starting to perk up(ex. Amelia coming for dinner) it all goes down the toilet. One minute, I’m lifting the lid to toss in the bag of garbage, and the next, I’m staring into the humanlike eyes of an ape.