Now that Monkey Wrench and Elbow had polished off the lunarfish sandwiches and let out a few satisfying burps, they had the energy to put the pedal to the metal … or to push that little lever thingy forward. In any case, the spaceship picked up speed and raced through space toward Earth … and closer to one particular city in Southern California.
“Los Angeles, dead ahead.” In addition to using words such as “commencing,” Elbow thought it would be a good idea to say things like “dead ahead,” which, of course, also look good in a book.
The spaceship was still cloaked. It was invisible to the naked human eye. And let’s be honest, most human eyes are naked. But that didn’t mean it was silent. Well, the engine was, but not the wind it caused by moving at Gamma Speed.
The ship came in low over the ocean surface, causing twenty-five-foot waves from Malibu to the Ventura County Line.
This is what you call surf’s up. This is what you call excellent conditions for hanging ten. This is what you call a good excuse for leaving work early and heading to the beach. This is what you call—
Where were we? Oh, yes—the cloaked spaceship was moving across the ocean, creating some pretty good waves for local surfers. And they weren’t too shabby for local narrators.
“Where do we set this puppy down?” asked Elbow, referring to the spaceship.
“Why not the beach?” Monkey Wrench said.
Yes, why not? They could create more waves so that people could take time off work. And so, just south of Malibu, the cloaked spaceship came to a stop. A few minutes later three aliens appeared, after they finished the last of the lunarfish sandwiches.
* * *
It was a crowded day at the beach—people were sunning themselves, playing volleyball, splashing in the water.
“How do we choose?” asked Monkey Wrench.
Elbow shook his head. “I don’t know. So many victims, so little time.”
He was only half right. True, there were lots of potential kidnap victims. But they weren’t exactly in a hurry to choose.
“Let’s head into the city and see what we can see,” Monkey Wrench suggested.
They did. They went to downtown Los Angeles and began looking around. There were even more people than at the beach. The aliens wandered about, looking for just the right human to capture and bring back with them to their planet. Not only were there too many to choose from, but each one was different—fat, skinny, old, young, cute, ugly, pimpled, nonpimpled.
“Holy I-can’t-make-up-my-mind!” Monkey Wrench said. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
Holy can’t-make-up-his-mind, indeed! What a whiner! Aliens!
Not only was it difficult for the three aliens to decide who to kidnap, it was even harder to agree on someone.
“How about that one?” Shoe would suggest, pointing to a man on a bicycle.
“Nah,” Monkey Wrench said. “Too fat.”
“Nah,” Elbow said. “Too ugly.” This was one of Elbow’s pet peeves. He hated ugly humans. And ugly aliens, for that matter. But let’s be honest—Elbow himself wasn’t exactly a looker!
“Or that one?”
“Nah.”
“Nah.”
Everyone was too something. The aliens couldn’t agree on anyone. That is, until they wandered over to Lair Hill.
“Look!” said Shoe. “Up in the sky.”
“It’s a bird,” said Elbow.
“It’s a plane,” added Monkey Wrench. “It’s … what is it?”
It was Candace and Margaret, that’s what. And the aliens came to an agreement, right there on Bad Guy Boulevard, which runs into Sinister Street and parallel to Devious Drive. “Let’s capture them and get out of here,” Monkey Wrench said.
“Yes, let’s,” said Elbow.
“Immediately,” said Shoe. “Sooner if possible.”
They set their phasers on STUN and pointed them at the two superheroes patrolling the skies above Lair Hill.
ZAP!
Candace and Margaret never knew what hit them. But they felt it.
The question is, did they crash, splat, thud, or kabonk?
You decide.