6.23.2006
Apples to Oranges
You are an alien who has been sent to earth. You arrive in the heart of New York City and land in the middle of a city block. The first thing you encounter is an unidentifiable object (known to earthlings as a melting chocolate chip). Study it. Send a transmission back to your planet about your first earthly discovery! Begin with:
We have met our first inhabitant, and we are attempting mind-transmission. The inhabitant is a strange color, not like our own purple bretheren of the continent of Blaxxo. I cannot identify this color-- it seems to resonate in the upper ranges of our cloxnam perception. It almost hurts to look at it, and it has these strange ripples down both sides of what looks like the petals of the flammoba flowers of the Craxon Federation.
Transmission from the shipcommendant: We cannot acheive contact. What is this strange creature? It was larger at the beginning of this transmission, but slowly it seems to be losing shape. I am frightened to touch it with my tentacle-- it gives off a strange odor unlike anything my sniffglands have sensed before. I cannot say that the sensation is unpleasant, but it does not titillate my glands the way the gentle scent of Blxtora's mouth modules used to before she Morphed. It is almost a foodscent, sort of like the mnixies Blxtora chewed for me.
It seems to be transmogrifying into a liquid, like Blxtora's mother did on her final Morphing. Perhaps it is a new kind of female! I must breathe upon it with my mouth module, and perhaps it will then respond! Oh, but its shininess makes my eyes squint. I must focus! Transmitting: Will you speak with me, O Flargian creature? My mouth modules tingle! But no response. Perhaps I should transmit harder, but, oh, my orbritral ridge is hurting.
Shipcommandant? Yes, please amplify my darka waves! I will need some pain medication when I return. Speak with me, please! I implore you! Your beauty reminds me of Blxtora... Ouch! The morphing continues-- the flammobish shape has vanished, and a puddle of the dark goo remains underneath. Are you dying, O Flargian? Might I help? There is no response.
Shipcommandant, might I touch this creature? Yes? It is soft to the microsensors, but thick, and, oh Graxfax! I have some of the Flargian upon my tentacle! When I bring it to my scentglands, the smell is intoxicating! I must taste this portion of the Flargian. Shipcommandant? You do not wish me to taste? We must investigate for the children back home. Yes, I may, Shipcommandant? Ah, it is a lovely flavor, even though the color is painful to the eye.
Shipcommandant, you might wish to taste before the Flargian Morphs completely. Yes, we may wish to bring this back to Zoxxor. The children will be very happy, Shipcommandant!
Powered by Qumana
