Episode Two
Enter the Fuzzy Purple Alien

Don’t you just hate it when you wake up in a pile of your own vomit, next to somebody you don’t even know with a thumping headache after a night of non-stop drinking?

However, that is not what’s happening to me. I have just woken up in a pile of my own vomit though. My vision is blurry and I can’t see where I am. Indeed, the world seems to be just a blur of oranges and yellows. The floor is cold beneath me and smooth, like metal but not quite.

My sight clears up and I see I am lying in a large, rounded room with curved, dark orange walls. Blinking lights stare at me and the place seems slightly beat-up and worn out, like something very angry had went on a rampage and then took a dump here. Well, maybe not quite. I’m close to a counter on the wall so I grab that and pull myself to my feet, feeling more than just a little gross. I take a look around. Amber tubes, filled with liquid and wires, surround me. I stare at them and notice that in one there is a very unconscious, very naked Ank.

“Murrsap?” I gurgle questioningly and walk around, still dripping with substances I don’t feel like going into detail about. There is a definite stink around the room and I think that it’s all coming from me. Me and the pile of sick on the floor. I realise vaguely I should be screaming and panicking or probably floating in a tube of my own right now, with the same amount of wires coming off me that Ank has.

For some reason, I can’t find the panic in me. For somebody who’s woke up in a strange, unknown place completely butt-naked and dripping with her own sick, I’m very calm. I’m trying to get myself into a screaming ball of hysteria, seriously. I just can’t.

Naked? That’s annoying, I think with a bit of dull irritation coursing through me. It isn’t the being naked really. It’s the fact I hate not wearing my orange bobble hat. It makes me feel uncomfortable and only partially complete. Bizarre, really. I remember once wearing it in a heat wave and nearly giving myself sunstroke due to my own stubborn clinging to the hat.

I walk around a bit more and manage to find a desk littered with tools, with my clothes thrown untidily on top of the scrap metal and torn sheets. I take a sheet to clean myself off and ball it up, tossing it roughly aside before I dress myself, noting a couple of claw-like tears in the fabrics. Bloody hell. If somebody kidnaps me, I expect them to have the courtesy to at least not tear my clothes. Sheesh.

I pull on my white trench coat and stretch lazily, still feeling light-headed and calm despite…well…everything. I walk over to the yellowish-brown tube Ank is suspended in and tap the glass (or whatever it was, for that matter). The thin girl did not respond. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled to the side inelegantly, her tongue hanging out in the liquid. Her dark hair had been pulled out of its short ponytail and was floating around in the water about her.

Mneh. Ank would be freaking out. I scratch my ear and yawn, turning away. Well, I feel kinda bored now. I blearily cross the room, noting a small red circle in the centre of the orange-brown floor. I stand on it and stamp. It looks like it could open. No such look.

”Aaaaargh!” came a howl to my left. I turned my head towards a closed, handle-less door. There were crashing and bangings from beyond it and high pitched screamings along the lines of ‘I am your master! Obey me wretched machine!”’.

Okay, still not weirded out. I yawn again, getting steadily more bored of this and wish something direct would happen. I walk towards the counter and walk alongside it around the room, noting a few buttons and levers and blinking lights and dials. Not sure if I want to risk pressing any of them, since I have not got the vaguest clue what any of them do. Not that I get the chance, because there is an almighty smash as a great metal claw rammed the door down, writhing and snapping around irregularly. There’s a little purple-grey creature in it’s grip who is trying to wriggle free, screaming insanely and whipping his thin, black attenae about.

Pause. I’d like the focus on this little guy for a second. It’s upon seeing him that I make the swift judgement that Ank and I have just been abducted by aliens. Or just one alien, for that matter. He’s absolutely tiny for this ship, only about two foot tall. His head is large compared to his slim body, with a long thin snout and a small dog-like nose. There are two curling attenae sprout from the back of his earless, inhuman head ending in black teardrop shapes. His tiny, three-clawed hands are digging into the metal and his thin legs hang limply from below. His mulberry-coloured face is turning a bit indigo from being choked and his small violet eyes are bulging. Due to his proportions, I’m willing to bet any money that if it wasn’t for the thick, wavy long tail protruding from his rear he would be completely incapable of standing up properly.

Play. The little creature was struggling desperately and screaming, digging his claws into the metal fingers of the rebellious machine. I watch in silence, vaguely amused as opposed to frightened and scared.

”Yaargh! Stupid faulty…urragh! Screw gravity!” he growls and raises his upper lip, revealing rows oif sharp, white teeth that line his strangely long jaws.

“I think it’s broken,” I comment for some reason. He gives me a withering look of ‘No shit, Sherlock’ before sinking his teeth into the arm of the…whatever it was. He yanked back and tore out sparking wires from the mechanism. With a few meek yellow sparks and jerks, the writhing grey arm collapsed and he managed to squirm free and stood before me, smirking triumphantly.

“Yo,” I greet him in a bored voice, “So…you’re purple.” I have no idea what I said that. There are plenty of questions to be asked but despite my best efforts I can’t get myself to care enough to ask.

“Don’t talk to me about being purple,” he mumbles darkly, slanted eyes glinting angrily. We stare at each other dumbly for a few seconds, as if neither of have the slightest clue who the other is or why we’re here. One of us must though, I highly doubt Ank and I came on here of our own accord, stripped off, Ank secured herself into a sci-fi-esque tube and I made a bed of vomit to sleep on. And then we got amnesia.

“What the hell are you doing awake!? Damnit, the drugs don’t work!” he screamed at me, pointing at me with a stubby, accusing claw. I grin.

”The drugs don’t work, they just make you worse but I know I’ll see your face again!” I sing happily. He gives me a look of utter bemusement and I continue to smile like an absolutely idiot. Drugs, eh? That explains a little. Not much, but a little. Being stoned made everything make a little more sense. Even when you’re probably in a spaceship with an unpredictable alien.

“Guh. If anything in this damn ship worked, I’d kill you now and you’d be all…all…dead!” he snaps. I snicker a little as he storms towards the door he came out of (admittedly not out of his own free well) and I follow him into a cock-pit. It’s about the size of an Erf car, with a back-seat and two large magenta chairs by a large windscreen. I almost gasp. Almost, not quite. The sight of Erf below us, its mighty spherical kingdom stretching out before us against the vastness of space…not exciting enough to get me riled up in my absolutely-wasted state of mind.

“So, I’m Smutt. Who and what are you?” I ask casually as I dumped myself on a chair. Not in front of the controls, since I don’t think I’ve got any experience flying spaceships. Nah. No experience. Cerbes sat on the one beside me, giving me a suspicious, sideways glance as he grabbed the helicopter-like controls and began to steer the ship steadily towards Erf.

“Well, ‘Smutt’. I am Cerbes, a proud Taelotarian, space pirate and uhm…I work alone…on this ship…thing…whatever. I’m gonna rule your planet soon ya know,” he says proudly and jabbed a thumb at his puffed-out chest.

“Erf,” I inform him with a nod, “Spelt E-R-F.” He lowers one antennae and raises the other. Whether this is to voice confusion or something I have no idea.

“Weird…my data tells me it’s E-A-R-T-H,” he says blankly. I scratch the back of my neck, showing the embarrassment of the entire planet over this matter.

”The Simplified Spelling act came into play this year,” I admit. No idea why I sound guilty about it, I didn’t do it. Seriously. I didn’t.

“Argh. Stupid…out of date…fricking…aaargh…computers should die…” he roars roughly punching his little claws into fists and shamelessly shooting a laser blast at the moon’s surface, leaving a small crater. I stifle a snigger at the small creature’s rage. The poor little guy didn’t have anything to vent against.

“So, basically, you’re trying to take over a planet without even knowing that much about it?” I ask, trying to stifle my obvious amusement. So funny, so very very funny. Sorta pathetic, but very funny.

“I know everything about it to the ‘Erf’ year 1997! Surely you can’t be too far past that!” yells Cerbes huffily, obviously resisting every urge to just storm out and pout for a while. I tilt my head in sort-of sympathy, sort of because my neck’s sore from lying on that floor for x amount of time.

“Cerbes, what colour is the sky on Erf?” I ask him. He stares at me blankly.

”Blue?” he replies timidly. Oh dear. Oh deary deary dear. Dear…deer…daaar. Mmm, funny words.

“Nope. It’s the year 2124 and the sky has been pink for a long time,” I say with a derisive snort.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he says with a sigh, tugging on his thin black antennae in frustration. I shake my head. Strangely, I feel sorry for the little guy. Sure he abducted me, he’s got weird machines set in my town, he’s practically keeping my best friend in a jar and will probably spend a lot of time poking her with needles and scalpels and stuff in the future, but still, I feel sorry for him. He’s a little pitiful, with his beaten-up ship and misinformation. I pat him on the head for some reason.

”You’re fuzzy,” I point out with a shrill laugh. He whacks the offending hand away with his claw, shooting me a fierce look.

“Frigging freaky human,” he mumbles. I grin playfully.

”You love me really,” I say and poke the small alien in the ribs.

Pause. And that’s where my little line of friends was upped to three. So far I had a skinny Goff girl I fought with more than anything, a little dude who worked with me in science and had a meek crush on me and a two-foot tall fuzzy purple alien with a crap spaceship. What a combination. Funnily enough, none of these knew or liked each other. Well…a couple of them sorta knew each other. In the loosest use of the term. Most had a circle of friends, I had a random scattering of dots.

You may wonder how I have so few friends when it takes only a few minutes for me to decide somebody is one. Thing is, most people don’t like me. They think I’m weird, overly cheerful, immature, stupid, unattractive, far too playful, creepy and insane. Probably am and they probably have the right idea with staying away from me actually but the way I see it is…well…who cares? I’m doomed to an early McDonalds nametag, I’m aware. Not even one with shiny gold stars on either, just one with ‘Kiki Firrson’ written on it, not even spelt right. I’ll scrawl ‘Smutt’ over it and get teased endlessly because of the term ‘smut’. I’ll burn the fries, spit on the burgers, get the orders wrong, spill the drinks and forget to clean what needs to be cleaned. My parents will eventually split up and one of them will get depressed and drunk, while the other gets abusive and drunk. But who cares? That’s not going to happen for two more years. Well, the parent bit could happen at any point really but yanno.

Until the day I turn sixteen and my parents force me into servitude, bring on the aliens, the fights, the crushes and the general insanity, I say. Who cares?

Play. He gives me a venomous glower and he leans towards the counter and presses a button, suspending the spaceship in the air…or lack of…whatever. I dunno. He presses another button and a hologram appears on the windscreen. It’s written in what I suspect is Taelotarian, so I have absolutely no clue what it says…speaking of which how can I even understand the little guy? The chances of the entire universe speaking English are practically zilch. For a while, even Erf had different languages. That was done away with some time ago, can’t remember when. It amused me that speaking in any of the old languages would have you put in prison.

Damn, people are idiots. Though who am I to talk? I can barely boot up a computer without spectacularly and stupidly screwing it all up.

“So…fuzzy dude…are you going to let me and my friend go? Since you can’t even keep us properly with all the machinery being bullshit ‘nd all that,” I say in a dull voice, leaning forward to press a few buttons. His tail lashes out and hits my arm and I retract it, scowling.

“Don’t call me fuzzy dude. And why would I let you both go? I’ve got an experimental…thingymajig…and a slave who can understand Taelotarian! You’re stuck here! Any good with fixing shit?” he asks hopefully. I shake my head and he slumps back in his chair, flicking through the screen on the windshield before us, hunting for something.

“Understand? I’m not speaking it?” I question. He nods mutely and I decide that I should really focus on the big picture. The whole ‘kidnapped and floating out of Erf’s atmosphere’ picture. Geez…I’m easily distracted, aren’t I?

“Weeell…slave huh? You need a bit help ‘round here?” I ask.

“Of course I bloody do!” snaps Cerbes irritably, “This ship hasn’t been the same since the whole Macnarr-affair. And by not the same, I mean shitty.”

“Uh…what’s…okay, screw that. I think I may be able to help you. What would you say if I agreed to help you? Not quite a slave mind you, I can’t be waiting on you hand and knee, I’ve got school,” I say. I shouldn’t really care that much about school, but I don’t think being a slave to my fuzzy little friend here will do me that much good.

“How could you help?” he snorts. That’s a very, very good question. Let’s look at the things I can do. I can draw, I can understand Taelotarian, I can eat abundant amounts of cookie dough and melted chocolate, I can write in proper English and I can really, really piss off the kids from the Clikks. For some reason, I’m saying this aloud. What an impressive résumé. He should sign me up right here right now and declare me master of all that can be mastered.

If you missed that, that was sarcasm. And a lot of it.

“You kinda suck, don’t you?” asks Cerbes. I nod and smile shamefacedly. He closes up the screens with a frown and takes the ship out of its pause and starts to drift seemingly aimlessly around Erf.

”Look…I’m sure there’s something I can do around here. Do you need information on Erf? I can get it. I’m no good with technology so that’s pretty much…stupid. Surely you need a hand in this quest for world conquest and other such absurdity,” I say, pausing a second to think. I scratch my chin. I got it. Perfect.

“Can you really take over the world without inside information? Don’t say just kill everybody because that doesn’t work, you wouldn’t have a planet you’d just have…a rock,” I say with a grin. I wonder vaguely if I’m selling out my entire planet just so I can get back to eating melted chocolate and cookie dough.

“Whaddya mean ‘inside information’?” Cerbes asks.

“I can find out a lot of things, I’m sure. I’m not the sharpest tool in the box, but you hear a lot hovering around the fringes of the crowd,” I reply with a broad grin, “That…and I can get you other stuff as well. I know more about Erf than you will, research or not. Maybe find a way to fix your ship. Erf technology is pitiful…but we have duct tape. Duct tape can fix anything.”

“Harrrum...er…okay. I’ll give you a test-type thing first. Find a way to fix this,” he pauses to shoot a laser beam, which is pretty pitiful when you look at it, “So that it can blow half of that freaking moon up (it’s annoying me) and we’ll work something out. Otherwise…uhm…something evil. Yeah.”

“Only if I can take Ank back with me and then give you the lasery-whatever,” I reply. His cone-shaped, indigo tongue is poking out through his mouth a little bit. He looks like this is a very hard decision.

“Uh…no…actually. Get me the lasery-whatever and I’ll send ‘Ank’ back in one piece otherwise…well, bad stuff. Lotsa bad stuff. Kay?” he says. I grin and extend my hand.

”Kay,” I reply and we shake on it.

A few moments later I’m back where I was before, one Ank short.

”Okay…pretty simple. Get lasery-whatever to fix stuff…give to short, malicious, fuzzy alien…easy. Go through worse in school,” I mumble to myself before I walk away, deciding I can brave the Beatz Clikk to get back to Ank’s house.