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The Story:

Three men wearing black trench coats stood motionless as the white sedan rolled to a stop in front of them. Its driver jumped out and opened the back door, letting out a passenger who was bald and clean shaven. He carried a black briefcase with him as he approached the other men.

“Where’d it land?”

The man in the middle of the three turned his head and nodded at a field where a small trail of smoke could be seen rising in front of the setting sun. The bald man walked toward the smoke, followed by the other three.

When he reached the smoke, it was being emitted by a silver saucer-like object that was sitting in a crater. He waited patiently beside it until a door opened as a ramp from underneath, and an alien no taller than a foot walked out to meet him.

“Hey, George! Listen, I know what you’re gonna say…”
“You do, huh? Gax, do you have any idea how many news agencies we’ll have to pay off from this little stunt of yours? Not to mention how much the energy costs are to keep a hologram over this whole area right now!”

Gax shifted his weight and folded all four of his arms.

“Well, you might be interested to know that I figured out the problem.”
“Great! You can tell me what it is, and then, you can sign this,” George said as he handed Gax a piece of paper from his briefcase.

The page was loaded with small print words, but Gax read the entire thing in only a few seconds. His oval blue eyes widened.

“You’re firing me?”
“Effective immediately… We can’t afford your stunts, Gax.”
“Well… Well, then, you can’t have my report, George!”

Gax’s mouth became disproportionately wide as he yelled the vowel sound in George’s name, pulling back enough to see rows of tiny sharp teeth. George stood perfectly calm and collected.

“Don’t need it. The Jahzilians are going to build one for us. No more dealing with your games.”
“The Jahzilians! George, no! No! They only want to destroy you! Look, I’ll stay! See? I’m going back inside. Just don’t hire…”
“It’s done, Gax!”

Gax looked at George with sad eyes.

“Please, George… We’re friends. I’m trying to help you.”
“I’m sorry, Gax.”


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