"Jesus, what's that smell?" Leon grimaced in the dark.
"It's not me," Marco said. "What did you eat, Gunther?"
"Nothing.yet." Gunther's stomach growled ominously. He was supposed to be
in Central Park by now - not trapped in an elevator with two co-workers.
"Laverne Finkelstein's gonna be pissed," Leon said. "This'll make the third
time I've stood her up for dinner."
"Ain't your fault, man." Marco sighed. "How long do you think we'll be
stuck in here? It's gettin' kinda warm - and the air's not too fresh."
Gunther wiped the sweat off his bald head with a trembling hand. The power
would be out for several more hours. What was he going to do about this
latest screw up?
"Hold on, I think I'm gettin' a Jersey station on this thing," said Leon.
The men heard static coming from the pocket transistor radio and then the
mellow tones of an announcer. He was talking about Eisenhower's trip to the
hospital.
"This just in, folks - history in the making. Nearly the entire northeast
seaboard has suffered a blackout. The FBI and Department of Defense are
investigating the possibility of widespread sabotage as a prelude to an
enemy attack. Some sources fear that UFO's may be responsible for
disrupting the earth's magnetic fields, as there have been numerous
sightings across the nation this year."
Leon made a rude noise and switched off the radio. "Crap, the Russians are
to blame for this if anybody is. Those jealous bastards just wanna make us
Yanks miserable - and they hate New Yorkers the most."
"I don't care who caused it, I just want it to be over," Marco said, his
voice strained. "I'm gonna go nuts in here pretty soon. Claustrophobia,
remember?"
Leon laughed. "Don't worry, if you get too crazy, Gunther will sit on ya,
right pal?"
Silence.
"Right, Gunther?"
The elevator filled with a mysterious greenish-yellow light.
I couldn't help it, Gunther thought. My watch must be slow - stupid,
inferior technology.
"What the hell." Leon backed into a corner. "Gunther, man, you're freakin'
glowin.'"
"That's not the worst part," Gunther said, as his head began to spin. This
wouldn't be happening if he'd been allowed to have a decent meal every week.
Marco screamed like a girl. "We're being attacked by aliens! Gunther's a
Martian!"
The two men jumped over to the elevator door and tried to claw it open.
Gunther grabbed his head and stopped it from spinning. He felt sorry for
his "friends," but he couldn't possibly hold off any longer.
His body swelled to twice its normal human size, tearing his cheap business
suit to shreds. Then the top of his head opened up and two long,
wart-covered tentacles snaked out onto the floor.
Leon and Marco gave up on their escape attempt and tried frantically to
stomp on Gunther's hollow, gray appendages.
Marco was crying.
The tentacles danced around, easily avoiding injury. The men were grabbed
quickly around the ankles and lifted high into the air.
Gunther stared into their terrified, upside-down faces. "Listen, guys, I'm
terribly sorry about all this. It's embarrassing, really, but the thing is,
I can't look human again if I don't eat something right away - understand?
I wish there was another solution."
The alien slung the men against the walls of the elevator until their heads
cracked open. Brains made for a messy meal, but they were the only edible
part of an earthling's body.
Gunther sucked their skulls dry and then pried the doors of the elevator
open with his powerful, multi-purpose tentacles. He had stopped glowing
already.
The hall looked pitch-black to everyone but him. By the time he reached the
empty offices of the McClelland Insurance Company, he had once again assumed
his human shape - albeit bloody and naked - without anyone being the wiser.
Gunther rinsed off in the bathroom and donned the spare suit that hung in
his office closet. Afterwards, he rummaged through the drawers of his
mammoth desk until he found PATTI, hidden in a leather eyeglass case.
In English, the device was referred to as a Portable Automatic Time Travel
Instigator. It looked like a miniscule cell phone from Earth's not too
distant future. The one drawback was that it could only be used to travel
forward - not back. That meant he would have to meet up with the Mother
Ship at some point.
Gunther didn't want to think about that yet.
It was a shame he had to use the gadget again so soon, but he'd broken too
many rules in 1965 to continue his studies.
The next full-scale invasions were due in 1977 and 2003. He'd heard all
about the New York City riots of the '77 "blackout," and figured it would be
the perfect time and place to go. No one would notice his solo arrival. He
could get lost in the chaos.
Okay, what was that new password? He needed it to activate PATTI.
Ah, yes. Now he remembered.
He punched in the letters: R-O-S-W-E-L-L.
Roswell.
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