"A man went to a policeman.
He said, 'Sir, help me. Someone is giving me death threats.'
The policeman stood up from his chair—serious, stern, eyebrows doing pushups—and asked: 'Who is it?'
The man answered, 'My girlfriend's husband.'"
I told that joke with full delivery, no stutters, perfect timing. And the Alien? My man laughed like he just discovered cocaine-flavored cookies.
"Hahaha. Good. Good. Good."
He clapped those scythe-hands together like crab claws at a stand-up show.
I basked in the applause.
But the vibe was lopsided. The alien was wheezing. I was smiling.
And Erect? Erect looked like someone pissed in his cereal, then told him Santa was an Alien too.
"What's a policeman, my lord?" he asked, dead serious. Bro sounded like he just heard a new species name.
I sighed. Erect didn't get it. Earth humor was too high-level for him. But the Alien? This dude knew more about my culture than half my own species.
So I turned to him. Time to go deeper.
"You know about Satan?"
"Yes. Devil and all." The Alien nodded like a student who definitely cheated on the test.
"Then why didn't your friend—the one I killed—know him?"
"He was a backbencher. Never paid attention in class."
"You guys have schools?"
"Of course. We had them on our planet. We even built some here too. Aliens need education. Especially sex ed."
That escalated.
I adjusted my sitting position. Criss-cross. I looked like a therapist who gave up on degrees.
Erect stayed standing behind me like an overworked bodyguard who's ready to dropkick someone just for breathing wrong.
The Alien crossed his legs too and finally explained their invasion lore.
"We were chilling on our planet. Just another day of abductions and butt-probes. Then boom—news drops. An asteroid is headed our way. No warning, no trailer, no foreshadowing."
"Damn."
"So, obviously, mass panic. We packed our bags and chose the next closest planet."
"And that was this one?"
"Yep. Planet Moral."
Of all planets, they chose the one named after ethics.
"We arrived here, and everyone started screaming. We panicked and, um… started killing. Humans, elves, vampires, ogres, orcs—we didn't discriminate. Equal-opportunity slaughter."
That was a wild jump from "panic" to "genocide."
"And now," the Alien continued, "we've developed this... hatred. Like, generational hatred. It's in our genes now. We can't help it."
"So... your whole race is hardwired to commit murder?"
"Yes. It's like... instinct. Like cats knocking over glasses."
"That's... concerning."
"But after meeting you," he looked at me, eyes hopeful, "I feel different."
Feel different? I don't want another Beater around me.
The Alien looked at my face.
"You made me laugh," the Alien said.
Ah. That kind of different. Cool.
"I've never laughed like that. Usually, I laugh when I forget my lines."
So my villain theory was right: evil people laugh when they forget dialogue. Just pure buffering energy.
"Thanks for making me laugh for real. You're a good man, Racis."
A… good man?
Me?
Alien appreciation hit harder than human compliments ever did.
"You're also good, Alien," I said, feeling poetic. "I could kill you right now, but I won't. I want to make peace between your people and mine. This war solves nothing."
An eye for an eye makes the world go… empty of contact lenses.
I will end this war and bring peace with my comedy. Yes. I found my goal. And to take the first step towards my goal…
"Show me the por-"
"You can't do that, my lord." Erect interrupted me.
"I was just asking for some por-"
"I don't mean that," he interrupted again, eyes twitching.
"Then what do you mean?"
"You can't make peace with them."
My comedy revolution plan got smacked before launch.
"Why not?"
"Because you might not hate them, but we do. Everyone does. We all want them gone."
He clenched his fist like a side character unlocking a new arc.
"They killed my parents," he continued. "All of us—every hero in this world—lost someone to these things. Soldiers, villagers, children… we don't even call them people anymore. If the Aliens ever weaken, we'll go to their continent and wipe every last one of them."
I looked at the Alien.
"What do you have to say about that?"
The Alien just shook his head slowly. "It's our nature. Our ancestors gave us hearts full of hate. Even if I say sorry, it won't mean anything. It won't change anything."
The tension in the room got so thick even air molecules paused to eavesdrop.
"Yes. That's why we won't rest until every single one of them is dead," Erect said, pulling out his sword like he was about to write a whole tragedy with it.
Damn. This went from open mic night to genocide in 4.2 seconds.
"Wait," I said. "Let me talk."
Erect paused. Barely. His sword was still ready, like he'd stab first and reflect in therapy later.
I stood up.
"Alien, did you kill his parents?"
"I didn't."
"See? It wasn't him. Someone else did."
"That doesn't matter!" Erect snapped. "I want justice. What did my parents do to deserve that? They were innocent! They were just—"
His voice cracked like an overused voice actor. The pain in it was real.
And I got it.
If someone had killed my grandma... I'd be swinging too.
So I made a decision.
"Fine. I'll give you justice."
Erect looked at me with something between hope and murder.
I turned to the Alien.
The only solution my morally bankrupt brain could produce:
"You can kill his parents too. It'll be a win-win for both of you."
I know. That's not how win-win works. But desperate times, y'know?
I don't want an Alien who likes my jokes to die. Who knows he might be the only alien who appreciates comedy. So his parents should be sacrificed for me.
The math made sense in my head:
- Erect lost parents.
- The Alien will lose its parents.
- Now both are even.
- Peace!
BUT THEN—
"He can't kill my parents," the Alien said.
"Why not?"
"My mother is already dead."
Damn. One down.
"And your dad?"
"I don't know who my father is. I'm a gangbang kid."
Oh, for fu—bro.
I turned to Erect.
"You'll have to wait, man. Let me talk to their king and figure something out. I will get you justice. I won't let you down."
I rested a hand on his shoulder like a priest blessing a child.
"You'll always be... Erect."
Erect smiled, his usual resting-glare face softening for once. "Thank you. I believe in you. And… that was a good play on words, my lord."
Damn right it was. Shakespeare just rolled in his grave out of professional jealousy.
I nodded sagely, like a drunk monk. Then jerked my head toward the Alien like I was about to stick my pet gorilla on him.
"You better be grateful. This man let you go. Otherwise, you'd be deader than my will to exercise."
The Alien clapped his scythe-hands together like Edward Scissorhands praying.
"Thank you, Racis. And brave Hero. I appreciate that. I would be delighted if you accepted me as your ally. I want to hear more of your… talks. And together, we will bring peace to this world."
"Hell yeah. We'll end this revenge cycle with our alliance."
The Alien beamed at my words like I just offered him free WiFi and emotional validation.
"I feel like bowing to you. Thank you so much."
Bowing? Cute. Respectful. I'm into that.
"Do it," I said like a Roman Emperor approving a gladiator's TikTok.
He didn't hesitate. Sat down like a folding chair and began the full kowtow protocol.
That's when the horror began.
I saw them—his antennas—slowly descending like twin cursed noodles from hell.
They came closer.
More closer.
I leaned back my head a little but the Alien finally did a full kowtow and his antennas brushed under my nose.
I felt tingly and good god, I realized that I should have not allowed the Alien to bow.
The antennas harassed my nose and even with the best of my efforts, I couldn't help but…
Sneeze.
"Achoo."
I let it out and…
SPLAT!
The Alien exploded like a watermelon under a steamroller.
His green blood painted my feet like Picasso doing acid.
Silence.
A holy alliance, shattered by nasal allergies.
My sneeze… committed murder.
There's peacekeeping.
There's war.
And then there's accidentally assassinating your only pro-comedy Alien ally with a faceblaster sneeze.
Guess I'm back to square one.