Love, Sex and Aliens

I miss Michael. There, I said it. Now I’m all alone in the universe and he’s gone and I miss him. I’ve looked from one end of the planet to the other and no-one else comes close, though I can’t think why. There are nine billion humans on this planet, you’d think I’d fancy one of them and have it reciprocated.

It’s not like I’m unattractive. Ask anyone what an alien looks like and you get a description of a scaly monster, or a skinny, naked, grey thing with a bulbous head and huge black eyes. I bet not one of you would go: Thirties, blond, curvy, long legs, long hair, blue eyes, big teeth… That’s me. As typical an Orion Nebula as they come. Not that I am in my thirties, as Earth years go. For this planet, I’d be in my nineties, but we don’t age at the same rate, which is why Orions can only stay here for a maximum of five years before we have to return and another takes our place.

So what are we doing here? We populate the internet. Have you ever wondered who sits down all day typing out all that ‘channelling’ that runs second only to cute cats and dogs on You Tube. Yes you have! It’s us. You’ve seen our stuff. Someone’s sent you a link about strange lights in the sky - that was us! I’m so proud. Personally, I’m listed as a Master of the Universe. I have to affect a patronising tone and allow archaic English to infiltrate my words of hope and encouragement as I reassure all of person-kind that the good times are about to roll in any day now just as soon as the Galactic Council gets its act together and defeats the Illuminati. Credit where credit is due - that was a stroke of brilliance on Jaq’s part. When in doubt, invent an enemy and make us the Good Guys. Guess what, humans, you used to be slaves when the Ananaki (which is the name of Jaq’s first wife, by the way. He was really bitter after the divorce) first created you from diluted DNA that they mixed with ape DNA to produce the first humans to be their slave-race.

Actually, it’s not too far from the truth. First rule of fabrication: always wind your myth around as many undisproveable factoids as possible. So, if (for instance) God didn’t create the world in seven days and didn’t create Man and Woman to be his creatures on Earth, then how did humans evolve to be the only sentient creature on the planet? No idea. But, we’re not above producing a plausible story to satisfy your curiosity.

‘But why’, you might ask. ‘What on earth is the point of coming to Earth and then sitting in front of a computer all day, writing fiction about Aliens when you are aliens and all you need to do, is reveal yourselves?’

Are you kidding? Have you seen how you lot treat your own refugees and they’re from your own planet.

See, here’s the thing. If we land and we say ‘Hi,’ there are several different scenarios: Your military could blast the shit out of us and we’d end up in an all-out destructive war. We don’t want that. Or we might be seen to be invading Earth to enslave you. Tempting, but no. It’s too much like hard work and you have nothing we need to enslave you for. Or, we could be seen as refugees and we already know how popular that will make us! So, how about being your saviours? Huh, yes? See the possibilities that presents? So here’s the Plan: there’s an Intergalactic Federation of planets and your lot are going to be invited to join if you can raise your vibration (d’you like that? That was my one, that was). Raise your vibration and be acceptable to the highly evolved spiritual beings that are currently monitoring your planet. Then Jaq chucked in the Illuminati that had to be defeated so that humanity could resolve their differences to move together into the oneness that embodies the high ideals of the Masters of the Universe. I don’t like that name, but once it was out there, too late. For a start, it’s anti-feminist and smacks of a patriarchal society. Jaq says that here on Earth, they like that sort of thing but just quietly, I think he does, too.

It is a fact (and I should know because I can make up non-facts better than most. I like to think of it as my super-power) that all the sentient life forms in the known universe are humanoids. Now how’s that for a weird fact! It’s true. They all evolved into (and I use this term loosely) humanoids. But it gets crazier, we aren’t all mammals. The planets around Alpha Centauri have sentients that evolved from fish. They came up out of the water, like your lot did, but kept scales. They never developed skin. On my planet from the Orion sector, we evolved from insects. We lost two limbs, which was a real mistake on the part of evolution, because I could type much quicker if I had four hands, but we kept our exoskeleton. Not hard, like an ant, more soft, like a bumble bee. And we’re cold blooded, which is why we have to eat so much meat and that brings me back to Michael. God, I miss him! We met in a diner. A carvery, actually. I didn’t even notice him at the time. He heard me ordering the two-pound rump steak, rare, hold the chips and salad and (according to him) he went: “What a Woman!”

Now sentients from all planets are just like humans from different countries. They have more things in common than they have differences. Yep, think about it. Who amongst you wants these things: plentiful food, a nice place to live/shelter, a mate, sex, offspring, health, the chance to be happy, un-persecuted, explore the galaxy… okay, I was getting a bit personal towards the end because I suddenly realised that while you might want to explore the galaxy, your lot don’t have a hope unless some of our unruly teenagers kidnap you for fun. And even then, I guess you won’t actually get to see much… but enough of that.

So the next thing I know, I’m chatting to Michael and I find, not unreasonably, that I like him. So before long, we’re going on dates. You can see the problem that’s going to arise, soon, can’t you? Why do you think that the one thing we DON’T talk about in our internet transmissions is sex? It’s going to be hard to hide an exoskeleton when I’m undressed and up close and personal. With trousers and long sleeves and sensitive skin as my cover story (literally, my cover story, now I come to think of it) I can pass as a human. It’s going to have to be a dark, drunken night for me to get away with it otherwise. And that’s exactly what happened one night after about three weeks of us dating and two weeks of him begging and me finally running out of excuses and resorting to the real truth: ‘Michael, I’m an Alien.’

You should try that as a get-out-of-sex-free, card. It’s less effective than ‘I have a headache’. It gets a response of ‘Really? Can I see?’

That night, after two bottles of wine and by the light of the obligatory candles that male humans think females require for ambient lighting, I undressed and Michael admired my voluptuous exoskeleton. It was wonderful! I’d forgotten how good, good sex can be. Or any sex for that matter. Orions are not sexual creatures, we mate for offspring. So unlike you monkeys that seem to do it all the time, for us, it’s a rare event and one to be treasured. Not that you do it right, it seems to me. If you got it right first time, you wouldn’t need to do it again. It’s only because you get it wrong, that you have to keep repeating it.

Michael and I got it right, first time, just as I expected. As he came, he threw back his head in ecstasy and I took that moment distend my jaw, bite hard into his neck and I took his head right off with my strong white teeth. The blood spurted and flowed and I sucked and sucked and the joy of his lovemaking and the feast of his blood to give me his strength, were pleasures that I had forgotten existed.

Oh Michael, you monkey. We have so many things in common, but our cultures are not quite the same. I hope you enjoyed it as much as me. I miss you, Michael, but you were delicious.