Letters from an Alien Schoolboy

Letters from an Alien Schoolboy — page 5 — Our unsafe arrival 6

Letters from an Alien Schoolboy — page 6 — Flyzoop crossed eighty-two galaxies on the way here without once watching where he was going It’s amazing we got here at all We were all trying to relax in the spacecraft’s comfort zone and make the most of our last few days as Faathings before we had to put on our Earth disguises We were eating the remains of a toasted flaaark we’d picked up at that fuel station just to the left of the Crab Nebula playing pong ping flexing our suckers and twirling our antennae when dozy old Flyzoop screamed METEOR ATTACK FIRE ALL MISSILES Me and my sister Farteeta looped over to the vision zone and there it was a huge blue meteor heading straight robot Bertiolboomflinglebuntusdyoliusfloopfloop I’ll just call him Bert from now on went crazy for us Our in-flight 7

Letters from an Alien Schoolboy — page 7 — Thats not a meteor that’s Earth you he said And it’s not heading for US WE’RE heading for IT Bert rolled down the central aisle smashing up all the seating and ripping our pong-ping net to shreds I’ve never seen him move so fast He tore the controls out of Flyzoop’s suckers and zapped all twelve ABORT buttons Too late one missile had already launched We watched it zooming towards Earth That’s our mission finished before it’s begun said Papa It turned out Flyzoop’s aim is as hopeless as his piloting The missile shot past Earth and exploded on an even more insignificant dot called Pluto I don’t think Pluto is inhabited said Papa At least not by intelligent life as we know it But then neither is Earth Editor’s note This book may be read by younglings Please insert the word nincompoop 8

Letters from an Alien Schoolboy — page 8 — ANTI-GRAVITY BLASTERS ON ACTIVATE ANTI-MATTER SHIELDS INITIATE REPULSION MAGNET MOBILIZE HOVER MODE Bert was a blur of flashing lights and robot arms spinning in all directions It was just as well we’d brought him with us because Flyzoop was crouching in the cockpit with his suckers covering all seventeen eyeballs and moaning We’re going to die I want my moms Earth hurtled closer a horrible sight Back in the days of the Eighth and Ninth Quadratic Wars there were real pilots who could land a burning battle cruiser even if two of their heads and most of their arms had been shot off said Papa But this flurfling apology for a pilot even forgot to switch on the anti-matter shields He messaged back to Faa Mission aborted We are about to die Goodbye 9

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