I TAKE A SEAT ON the curb.
I need a second.
A chance for my brain to catch up.
To process the fact that I’ve now, in the space of a single day, met and spoken with not one, not two, but three extraterrestrials—and also, maybe even more mind-bendingly, seen just what one of their terrifying little zap-cannons can do.
“Are you—” Dan starts to ask.
But he’s interrupted by a
Beep-beep BOOP.
Dan digs Bem’s communication device out of his pocket. I guess he stuck it in there before we all rushed out of my house.
Swiping the screen, angling his head so he can get a better look at the message through all the cracks, Dan reads: “ ‘Tonight on The Bean Show, an interview with global superstar Rooparoopamcsewerswapper.” Dan gives the screen a few more swipes to make sure that’s it, then shoves the thing back into his pocket. “Spam,” he says.
I take a deep breath, then quickly catch the others up on what went down with Kermin and Muckle.
“Okay,” says Mikaela, after I finish the part where Kermin told me it was conceivable that I wasn’t as stupid and useless as I seemed to be. “So there’ll be no more zap-cannoning for the rest of the day because of this dog meeting the aliens think is happening. We’ve delayed them, but they’re still planning on zapping the rest of the planet to microscopic smithereens and putting up their billboard tomorrow.”
Dan offers me a hand and pulls me up onto my feet. Together, we all start back to my house.
“So…,” Mikaela says. “What are we gonna do?”
I can only think of two options. One: get down on our knees and beg the aliens to pretty, pretty please let us go on existing. Or two: stand up to them, try to put up a fight against their zap-cannons. Unfortunately, both seem incredibly unlikely to work, so I don’t even bother sharing them with the others.
Judging by the thick, knotty silence between us, I know none of them have come up with any brilliant ideas either. At least not by the time we turn the corner onto my street.
And it’s there that my feet freeze and my brain completely short-circuits.
Because we can see my house.
And see that Edsley is waiting for us on my lawn.
And see, too, that he’s not alone.
Standing beside him is a robot. A robot who appears to have recently participated in the world’s most epic food fight.
And just in case there’s any confusion about who it is, he calls out to us:
“Greee-tings, NIN-com-poops.”