Zeros didn’t waste a second—he grabbed Blindy by the collar
and dragged him toward the exit.
The door slammed so hard
the bar seemed to exhale:
Whooo-OOSH!
Like someone had been holding a finger over an air valve
the entire time—
and finally let go.
And then—
the night sky tore open.
A hum.
Loud.
Vibrating.
Gut-twisting.
The sound rolled across the square,
through buildings, through bodies, through the intestines
of every degenerate standing outside in Mold’ponie,
echoed between puddles and trash,
and forced the entire crowd to clench everything they had—
anal, auditory, moral.
A perfect silver disc slowly emerged from the clouds—
smooth, chromed,
shining like your grandma’s dish cabinet
after three liters of bleach.
It hovered over the square.
Silent.
Threatening.
Majestic.
The square froze.
Alien mercenaries screamed.
Humans screamed right after them.
A couple of random idiots screamed out of solidarity—
just in case this was some kind of flash mob.
Blindy stared upward,
mouth open wide enough to catch a small bird:
“Oh, SHIT…
It’s them.
UFOs.
Abductors.
The ass-probers!
Zeros, buddy—GET READY TO DEFEND MY ASS!”
Zeros didn’t even look up.
“You’re all a bunch of undercooked idiots.”
The saucer rotated slowly…
ominously…
or maybe it was just trying to connect to Wi-Fi.
Hard to tell.
A group of aliens huddled closer to Zeros,
shaking like a low-battery vibrator.
One Chortul—Frua’Kellion—raised his six-foot tentacle to the sky and screamed:
“UFH! UFH! UFH!”
Blindy blinked.
“UFH?
What the hell is a UFH?”
A Dremlyx named Kval’Reno whispered, choking on fear:
“Unidentified. Flying. Human.”
Blindy blinked again,
thought about it for a second—
and burst out laughing.
“In the name of the greatest of all greats!
Lord of Space!
Father of Galactic Wisdom!
Neil deGrasse Tyson!…What the hell are you talking about?”
Frua’Kellion nodded, his entire gelatinous body trembling:
“It’s… it’s always been humans!
Flying disc-shaped vessels!
Glowing!
Every time someone saw them—they disappeared!”
And then Grovy Lumlax—one of the Plaxotins—let out a high-pitched squeal…
[Jackie suddenly cut into the broadcast—
like her patience had finally snapped
from listening to Dick pollute the airwaves with nonsense]“Alright, dear gremlins.
Before Dick starts spouting his… as he calling it… uh— his usual speciophobic nonsense again,
let me briefly explain what a Plaxotin looks like.Short. Scientific.
So you don’t mistake them for decorative household items.Skin—semi-transparent, pinkish-peach, gelatinous.
Absolutely adorable.If you look closely, you can actually see lymph circulating beneath it.
Yes, it’s just as weird as it sounds.Head—disproportionately large, almost spherical.
On the sides—soft membrane-like extensions, resembling feathers.
These ‘wings’ serve multiple functions:thermoregulation,
emotional signaling,
and… charming decorative appeal—
that last part is my personal addition…When a Plaxotin is nervous—the wings tremble.
When calm—they’re barely visible.
When panicking—they flap like it’s trying to escape existence itself.Eyes—huge, dark, constantly wet.
Not just because it’s cute,
but because their tear glands operate in permanent
emergency flood mode, 24/7.Limbs—short arms with tiny fingers,
perfectly designed
for clinging to your clothes
and silently begging for help.Legs—barely longer than buns.
Slightly curved forward,
which makes their walking pattern…
biomechanically unstable.They move like they’re trying to balance their emotions—
and always fail.Along the spine—
a semi-transparent dorsal ridge.It rises under fear.
And since Plaxotins are afraid of everything,
this ridge is almost never down.Bioluminescence—
their skin emits a soft blue or peach glow.Useful in nature.
In the city?
They become walking cyberpunk night-lights
nobody asked for.In short:
If you see a small glowing creature
with trembling side membranes,
huge watery eyes,
and the expression of
‘I’m deeply sorry for existing’—that’s a Plaxotin.”
[Dick let out a heavy grunt into the mic]“Thanks, baby.
As always—cute, informative,
and somehow makes me want to exist a little less.”
[He coughed, cleared his throat, and jumped back in]“Anyway—where was I?
Right. Plaxotin Grovy Lumlax.
A creature with eyes so big, shiny, and wet
you feel like an asshole just for standing near him.”
The trembling Grovy Lumlax raised his tiny hands and whimpered:
“My uncle went out for a smoke…
He saw a UFH…
and never came back.They only found his sandals…”
Blindy, still trying to process reality, let out a laugh:
“This is COMPLETE BULLSHIT!
Humans don’t abduct aliens!
YOU—yeah, YOU—are the ones abducting us!
And stickin’… tubes… into our… asses!”
Frua’Kellion shrieked, wrapping himself in all his tentacles:
“DISGUSTING!
What kind of PERVERTED species does that?!
Oh right… Homo sapiens!”
Kval’Reno, choking on fear, sniffled:
“You… you even examine yourselves…
your own… openings…
Why?..”
Blindy scoffed, offended, hand drifting toward his blaster:
“We do NOT examine ourselves!
I—I do NOT examine anythin’!
Aliens do that—uh… did that…
Uh… maybe…
Oooh fuck!
Look—just watch the movie First Contact!
It’s all in there!
Based on real events!”
Zeros finally snapped:
“You rotten piece of shit.
Your movie is lying.”