Close Encounters of the Square Root Kind

...continuing with this little story...

I started the weekend a little early last weekend. Last Wednesday night (it was actually wee-hours Thursday morning), I stumbled down the front steps of Think-A-Holic Lounge for the "umpteenth time squared" (actually, it was more like the square root of infinity) full of Death-A-Hol and pleasant thoughts about immortality when this flying saucer appeared out of nowhere and hovered above the nearly-empty parking lot. A green beam of light shot out of the bottom of the spacecraft and produced a little bubble-headed biped.

"Take me to your leader," said the creature in the green beam of light. His voice sounded bot-like and mechanical.

"Oh, really?" I said, with a flippant attitude that would have gotten most people ray-gunned into flaming skeletons. But not me. I felt invincible and stood my ground. "You mean you don't want to take me aboard your evil starship and open me up to see what makes me tick?"

"Been there and done that," replied the alien, in his own flip manner. "Besides, I already know what makes you tick. Now, are you going to take me to your leader or do I have to ask somebody else's alter ego to take me?"

"No problem, pal," I responded with more complacency than excitement. Bubble-headed aliens are a dime a dozen in this part of the space-time continuum, so this joker wasn't doing me any big favor. On the other hand, I was tired of just going home every night and listening to classic "soft rock" on old vinyl LPs— like Simon & Garfunkel and The Mamas and the Pappas — and sipping hot cocoa. So, I was up for just about anything.

"Do you have transportation?" it said to me in a serious tone that made me think twice about needing a little diversion.

"No," I replied, still flip as hell. I figured why not push the interactive envelope? I had nothing to gain and nothing to lose. "No, mine's still in the shop. We'll have to take yours." A big smile crossed the extraterrestrial's little mouth that seemed more like a leer than a smile, but I was still up for adventure and for even kicking some alien butt, if it came to that.

"OK, then," he said, stepping aside to let me into the green light.


"I don't know if you'll like our leader," I confessed, "but the crazy old son-of-a-bitch is all we have." I figured honesty was the best policy when you're dealing with aliens who can beam your ass off a tavern parking lot in the middle of the night without even blinking an eye.

And then we were beamed aboard.

this story to be continued...