posted on Mar, 2 2012 @ 10:27 PM
It was 12 pm on a Saturday when Charles Dobson stirred back into consciousness. The previous night had been like most teenage Friday nights, a local
house party with plenty of beer and even more nubile women. Now local for Charles was a 2Km drive since he lived in the country. Dobson's had taken
part in a very heated debate with 2 well stacked locals he had known since high school and one he had a particular crush on. A challenge ensued which
resulted in a drinking competition and the winning prize had been him making as ass of himself in front of the whole party, and the rock splitting
hangover he was now sporting.
He barely remembered driving home, which is common if you drive with your eyes closed for the majority of the time. He was an idiot and he knew it,
drink driving was bad enough but drink driving the tractor? He managed to open a very bloodshot and droopy eye and glance to his right to notice the
time was now 12:30pm, he should be up helping with the farm chores but his body was wracked with pain and he was still pretty drunk. As he lay there
in bed he noticed the left side of his double bed seemed to sag a bit like someone was sleeping there. With some force he turned his head to the left
and found himself face to face a what he could only surmise was a gray alien. The high pitched scream the escaped Dobson's beer soaked throat would
have woken the dead.
He jumped out of bed so fast he almost went through the wall and into the other room from sheer fright.
"what the holy hell are you? and what are you doing in my bed?" he yelled. While at the same time trying to convince his bladder function that this
might not be the most appropriate time to go on vacation. He managed to babble a few incoherent words about chickens and milking cows and then passed
out where he stood. His bladder finally winning the debate.
Dobson woke to find himself back in bed but with the Alien standing at the foot of his bed staring at him with those big gray eyes. He was now as
sober as a preacher on Sunday, although given Father O'Tools fondness for the sacramental wine that's not quite as somber as most. The Alien
introduced himself as Bob and spoke in a rather deep voice which was strange for something with a head the size of a basket ball and neck the width of
a mans wrist. "You humans sure do make a mess of your bodily functions. Is leaking on the floor a way of welcome in your culture?" Dobson was
babbling again "wh...wha...what? Leaking?" Then looked at the side of the bed to notice the puddle he had left after he collapsed. "No..No. only
when we get date raped by Aliens" He said trying to draw attention away from his embarrassment. As the insanity of the situation started to settle in
his mind he was starting to get bold. " What the hell are you doing here? and how the hell can you speak English?"
The Bob just laughed " I'm using an universal translator and im here to study human mating rituals. Im a behavioral scientist from the star system
Alpha Centauri." The blood drained from Dobson's face as he grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to his chin " Oh Christ! you're going to anal
probe me aren't you?" Bob looked at him quizzically " You are the second person to ask me that, Is this another human custom I am unfamiliar
with?" "Of course its not, but isn't what you damn Aliens do? Mutilate cows and anal probe people?" "Why the hell would we travel so far to eat
intestines of animals and probe peoples butts? You think a race that's mastered faster than light travel needs to stick probes up peoples backsides?
If we wanted to know what you ate we would simple ask you."
By now Charles Dobson was sure one of his friends had spiked his beer at the party with some sort of illicit drug and this was all a very vivid and
persistent hallucination. "Ok, I'll bite so if I'm not completely crazy and you are from Alpha Centauri and here to study mating rituals how the
hell did you end up in bed with me?" Bob sat down on the only chair in the room. "Well I was flying overhead when I saw the party and noticed your
unusual courting style. Tell me how did you develop the technique of projectile vomiting on your potential mate? It's a very intriguing strategy. Was
this some form of territorial marking to ward off other males from your potential mate?" Snippets of the night were coming back to Dobson. He wasn't
going to live this down with his mates. " Yeah its my patented celibacy technique, keeps the men away from the women I'm after but also keeps her
away from me. It's a work in progress." Bob went on " You intrigued me as a test subject so I followed you till you drove your farm vehicle into
the ditch and them tried to crawl home." Dobson groaned, his dad was going to kill him when he found out about the tractor.
"So are you here to help me or poke fun at me?" Dobson asked Bob. " Based on the observations I have undertaken I believe I might be of assistance
in this matter, I have only 1 rule. NO photos on conspiracy forums or the net." Dobson thought about it for a minute "yeah I can live with that.
You know Jenny Philsner is having a pool party tonight, there will be plenty of hot chicks there. what do you say?" "I will have to undergo
subdermal transformation but this should be interesting. Are you planning on refining your previous courting ritual of projective vomiting on your
potential mate tonight?" With a sardonic look at Bob Dobson replied "Just shut and get changed, we have a lot to go over before tonight......hey, by
the way does your ship have a tractor beam.. you know for beaming tractors out of ditches."