Naturally, you’re too late.”

GOR-DON sneered as he stepped toward Alex and Sammi, into the greenish glow of the computerized news projections on the wall.

“Exactly what I’d expect when a real alien attack threatened a bunch of phony superheroes.”

“WHERE’S ALEX?!” Sammi demanded.

“A-HA! You didn’t correct me! That means I’m right! You are frauds, just like I’ve always said! YES! YES! YE—Wait. You don’t know where he is either?”

“No. And FYI, we didn’t say you were right,” Herbert said.

“You’re a slayer short?!” GOR-DON chuckled. “Oh, this has worked out even better than I planned!”

“If you know where he is, you’d better tell us,” Sammi said. “And if he’s hurt, you are not going to have a ‘g’day.’”

“I haven’t had a ‘g’day’ since you three parasites ruined my life! And as for your missing friend, I seem to recall him telling me he was going solo.” He turned to Herbert. “That was your suggestion, wasn’t it? That’s what your blabbermouth bodyguard told me, anyway.”

“Chicago,” Sammi muttered.

“Has it occurred to either of you that maybe ‘El Solo Libre’ doesn’t want you to find him? I mean, I’m a supergalactic mega-jerk, but even I wouldn’t treat my friends the way you treated him. If—y’know, I had any.”

Sammi and Herbert were quiet for a moment.

“All right,” Sammi said finally. “Maybe it’s too late to save our friendship with Alex. But it’s not too late to save the world. So you’re going to call off this attack—”

“Or else what? You gonna use your megamittens on me? I KNOW ABOUT THE VIDEO GAME PRANK! You two are about as good at fighting aliens as I am at baking cupcakes! It’s over, losers, and I have won! Soon everyone who laughed and made fun of me will see that I was always right—the world-famous AlienSlayers are superzeroes! BWAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!”

Sammi thought for a second. “And by ‘everyone,’ you mean everyone you’re letting the Klapthorians wipe out?”

GOR-DON stopped laughing.

“Yes. About that,” Herbert said. “You may want to rethink your evil plot. It has some intrinsic logic flaws.”

“Please. Do you honestly believe I didn’t plan exactly how to use the destruction of this pit of a planet to make myself Supreme Ruler of Gor-Donia?”

Herbert smirked. “Gor-Donia?”

“It’s just a working title. I haven’t made a final decision on the name yet. Although anything would be better than Earth. Why didn’t you just name it ‘Planet Dirt.’ Oh, wait. Now I remember. Because humans are idiots.”

Sammi stared up at the AlienSlayer news projections on the wall. Her eyes drifted down to a framed photograph standing on the desk beside the computer. She recognized the woman in the picture, and read the inscription.

“Okay,” she said. “I’d just hate for you to go to all this trouble and end up with nothing.”

“This room is designed to hold toxic waste!” GOR-DON snapped. “These walls are six feet thick! Whatever those psychotic shrimpazoids do aboveground, I’ll barely feel a rumble down here. Once the Klapthorians have put their killer snail back on its leash, realized there’s no LUNN-CHMUNNY to be found on this rock, then pack up and fly off to wherever they came from, I shall emerge from my bunker, rule all survivors of my species, and enslave all survivors of yours! Questions? Comments? HA! Didn’t think so!”

Sammi picked up the photograph of Marion. “Just one.”

GOR-DON froze. His beady eyes darted from Sammi to the picture and back again.

“Her? Pff. She knows how to reach me,” he said, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, we know.” Herbert held up GOR-DON’s business card. “She gave us your info. Funny, I don’t remember her asking for it back, either.”

GOR-DON looked at Sammi. His chin quivered.

“No, I don’t think she did,” Sammi answered. “Guess she’s not interested in dating someone who’s planning to destroy her planet.”

GOR-DON suddenly snapped.

“I told her I’d protect her! All I asked is for her to come crawling back and help me reign over my kingdom of human slaves! So what’s she do? She runs off—like I’m the bad guy.”

“Women,” Herbert offered.

“I know, right? Can’t live with ’em, can’t eat ’em without getting a bunch of hair stuck in your teeth.”

“Of course, there is one sure thing we girls can’t resist,” Sammi said. She let the words hang out there for a while. GOR-DON stared at her, waiting. Herbert seemed genuinely interested too.

“…A hero.”

“Yes! Which is precisely why my plan to heroically crawl out of my basement bunker and rule the Rubble Kingdom of Gor-Donia is guaranteed to make me irresistible! How could it not? She’d have to have a heart of stone.”

Herbert and Sammi traded looks.

“Let me toss this idea out,” Sammi said. “What if, instead of destroying Merwinsville, you were responsible for, I dunno, saving it?”

“You lost me. No idea where you’re going with this.”

She continued. “Let’s say my colleague and I admit publicly, to everyone, that we aren’t AlienSlayers.”

“Well, duh. I’d be instantly proven right, everyone would worship me, and Marion would think I was the hero instead of you—” GOR-DON gasped. “Okay. You just officially blew my mind. I order you to continue.”

“Let’s think this through,” Herbert said. “Not only will you save face when we tell everyone we’re phonies, you get to call off the Klapthorian attack and actually do what we fake AlienSlayers never really could!”

“You mean I’d—save the world…”

GOR-DON gazed up at the wall of holo-clippings and imagined all the headlines declaring him a hero. He could hear the adoring crowd echoing in his earholes. He could see Marion running into his tentacles. He shut his eyes. He could feel her soft, puddinglike lips kissing his.

Sammi and Herbert stood watching GOR-DON smooch his tentacle for an awkwardly long period of time.

“Ahem.”

GOR-DON opened his eyes.

“We should probably head out if we’re going to do this,” Sammi suggested.

GOR-DON nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Right! Just let me slip on my dress and put on my makeup.”