The ex-AlienSlayers stood back and watched the massive celebration: people and G’Daliens hugging, dancing, and spraying one another with bright green soda pop.

A pear-shaped figure pushed his way through the gyrating crowd with a big grin on his face. Old Man Alex had taken off the Mexican wrestling mask his Uncle Davey had brought back from Guadalupe, and what little hair he had on his head was sticking out in all directions.

“Did you guys see that?! We sent those shrimp bugs packing!”

“I don’t believe my eyes,” a voice said. “You found him…” Old Man Herbert floated up in his AirChair. “Fraidy-Cat Filby!”

“Uh, sorry if I don’t know your name. I played a mind-numbing video game for fifty years, and I’m slowly regaining my memory.”

“That’s quite all right. It’s good to see you’re well.”

“Thanks! I was gone for a while. Hiding out on the—”

“The dark side of the moon, I know. Did you get the cave-warming gift I sent you?”

“Ah-ha!”

Young Alex stepped up and poked a finger at the elderly inventor. “So you did send him that video game system! I knew it!”

Old Man Alex looked genuinely surprised.

“Why would I do that? Those things rot your brain. I sent him a SuperCheezyFrankOnnaStickerator 3000.”

“You said you had no idea where he went,” Herbert said.

“I didn’t—not at first. But years later, when I heard he ran into trouble and disappeared, I used an early prototype of SarcasmaTron to locate him.

“Then, remembering his love for those nasty stick-dogs, I invented a machine that would keep him fed for as long as he wished to stay hidden, and I sent it to him anonymously.”

“Bio-vapor CO₂ reverse thermo-protein condensenator?” young Herbert asked. The old inventor nodded. “Nice.”

“Wait,” Alex said suspiciously. “If that’s true, why didn’t you just tell me where to find him?”

“I wanted to test my theory of intersecting parallel-event paths,” Old Man Herbert said. “And by finding yourself, you helped me prove that they exist!”

Old Man Alex stepped up and gave Old Man Herbert an enormous bear hug, almost pulling him off his AirChair. “I knew I recognized a friend,” he said.

“Aw,” Sammi interjected. “See? You two are best friends, even in parallel-event paths!”

“Nice story, old man,” Alex suddenly said, pulling his older self off Herbert’s older self. “But it doesn’t explain why you wrote this note and sent it along with that brainwashing AlienSlayer43: Virtual Vengeance game! HA!”

He shoved it into Old Man Herbert’s face. Everyone crowded around and looked closely at it.

“Look at the bottom! ‘Your old friend and neighbor, “H.S.”’ Let’s hear your ‘theory’ on that!”

Old Man Herbert pushed it back. “That’s not my handwriting.”

“Pff.” Alex rolled his eyes.

Sammi peered closer at the note. “No,” she said slowly. “He’s telling the truth. I don’t know how this could possibly be, but I recognize that handwriting. It’s mine.”

Another memory suddenly trickled into Old Man Alex’s brain. He looked at the note, the handwriting, Sammi’s face.

Click.

“H.S.—Hammy Sammi!” he exclaimed. “My old next-door neighbor! Now I remember! We gave each other rhyming food nicknames!” He looked over at the two Herberts. “And Sherbet Herbert! I knew I recognized you guys!”

 

Sammi, Alex, and Herbert said goodbye to Old Man Alex and Old Man Herbert, leaving them reminiscing about old times together.

“Looks like our parallel-event-path selves were friends, too,” Sammi said. “Kinda nice to know.”

“Well, obviously our event path lives are far superior to theirs,” Herbert said. “I mean, rhyming food nicknames? Who does that?”

“Don’t complain,” Alex said. “Alex Shallots? That doesn’t even rhyme!”

The sun was low in the sky over the empty streets of Future Merwinsville as they exited the Flee-a-seum without anyone noticing or caring. They stopped and looked back at the happy, celebrating citizens of Future Merwinsville.

“So if my observations are accurate,” Herbert said, “the entire city of Merwinsville just saved their own AlienSlayers from being horribly devoured by an actual alien.”

“It’s more than we ever did,” Sammi answered.

“Once again, ironic.”

“I guess they don’t need us anymore.” Sammi smiled.

“Let’s face it,” Alex said. “They never did.”