Unfriendly Aliens

Ralph Green was nodding on that Wintry March night in 1997, the
night that his spouse saw the UFOs, which she anxiously described as
flying saucers, Ralph was snoozing in the farm's cosily Aga-oven heated
environment. He had drifted off in his comfortable armchair with his
newspaper. He held the journal in both of his limp hands, with it
progressively crumpling into his lap. His head made spasmodic jerks,
like a bobbing fishing float, as he half consciously made feeble
unsuccessful attempts to raise the tabloid. These Praying Mantis like
twitches became more severe as the intervals between them became
longer. Within three minutes of the first flicker of his eyes Ralph
Green stopped twitching. His bifocals slid down his nose, the paper
fell from his relaxed fingers then off his lap onto the terracotta
tiled farmhouse kitchen floor, at the same time he gave out his first
deep-throated snore.
Ralph's wife came in from the barn where she had been sorting out their
monthly delivery of fruit, vegetables and a variety of other groceries;
the provisions had been delivered earlier that day. Part of the barn
was fitted out with a sizeable cool pantry and an equally large freezer
section. Living so far out of town they depended on this special
delivery service, since the nearest small shop was fifteen miles away.
That was not the only reason; it was also because the prices at that
small village shop were so prohibitive that they used the shop only
when absolutely necessary. Added to this it was essential to keep in a
plentiful supply of everything, since this part of the dales was
notorious for being cut off by snowdrifts in the winter months.
Liz Green looked down with an affectionate smile at her slumbering
husband of six months, who was now slouched, peacefully in his cosy
chair. She removed the precariously balanced specs from his nose,
picked up the fallen newspaper and gave him a peck on the cheek.
Normally the young farmer's wife would have woken him up but the
lambing season took its toll out of the farmer's normal sleep pattern.
Liz went over to the large window to draw the drapes for the night.
Just as she reached for the curtains she was startled to see what
appeared to be several amazingly rapid flying craft with long flaming
tails, descending from the heavens. "Ralph! Ralph! Quick come and see
this. Ralph look flying saucers they're landing over the hill." The
weary farmer jumped from his chair in shock, rubbing his tired eyes he
joined his wife at the window. "They're not flying saucers woman, it's
a meteor shower. We're passing through the tail of some comet or
other".
Liz clung to her husband's muscular arm as they watched the celestial
fireworks display for a further ten minutes. During that time the
couple witnessed some twenty long plumed meteorites disappear over the
horizon of the hill next to their meadow. "Are you sure that they are
not UFOs Ralph? There was a programme on the telly in which they said
they had found signs of life in a piece of Martian rock?" "Look lass if
you see any little green men with flashing lights on their heads and
they ask you to take them to your leader do not! And! I repeat do not
rouse me."
Returning to his easy chair to crib what he called another forty winks
Ralph almost immediately fell into a deep, but troubled sleep. The
reason for his tormented slumber was a vivid dream or rather a
nightmare, in that bad dream he felt that his body became light and
drifted out of the chair and almost up to the ceiling. Unable to stop
himself he was pulled as if by invisible hands out through the various
house doors, out into the cold March night. Gradually his body
levitated until he was able to look down and see what looked from his
lofty elevation his toy-like farm and outbuildings some two hundred
metres below.
With a hushed whoosh he was propelled over the hill, to where they had
seen the flares from the celestial fireworks appear to be landing. To
the young farmers amazement on the other side of the hill he saw what
seemed to be a large shimmering cigar shaped vessel surrounded by a
number of much smaller saucer shaped craft. All of this apparent alien
armada was, although at rest, floating in the air some twenty feet from
the ground?

Ralph and Liz went up the stairs arm in arm, both laughing at Liz's
fears of an alien invasion and Ralph's' weird dream. Liz stripped and
stepped into the shower while her husband brushed his teeth. After he
had finished he rinsed his mouth and gargled loudly. Picking up an
empty wastebasket, which he placed on his head. He quietly swung open
the steamed up shower cubicle door and poked his wife's shoulder with a
loofah, and in a loud metallic sounding voice he repeated "Exterminate!
Exterminate!"
When the young couple had finished their ablutions, still jesting and
carrying on they headed for the bedroom for an early night. Ralph
needed all the sleep he could get for he had another busy day ahead of
him in the lambing pens?

The alien Theraphosidaen looked through its manifold eyes from its
hiding place in the corner of the large barn that served as a lambing
shed. Looking all around through its multifaceted optics the hungry
creature tried to make sense of this unfamiliar environment. Travelling
here in the huge ship, where it had been comatose in a chilled
container where it had been in a state of suspended animation, there,
there had been no need for food. Now however in the warm barn food was
high on the alien visitor's priorities.
From its hideaway the creature watched the tall being tending and
birthing the ewes, then wrapping the newly delivered creatures in
orange anti-frost body-warmers. This, the alien conceived was the same
as in his world where they too wrapped some of their edible victims in
storage cocoons. To investigate this potential food source the ugly
immigrant crept stealthily out of its shadowy lair. Before it could
reach the pens however it heard a scuffle that stopped it in its
tracks. The cause of the commotion was from a feral cat that was
stalking a large mouse.
Taking the initiative the alien scurried towards the feline predator
and its prey, at which point the cat let out an eerie squealing meow
and fled. The sight of the hideous creature however paralysed the
frightened mouse. Without a moment's hesitation the revolting looking
alien grabbed the rodent and sank its large fangs into the immobilised
mouse and straightway started devouring it.
Screams from the escaping cat and the piercing death-squeal from the
doomed rodent caused Ralph to tiptoe tentatively towards the struggle.
Liz who had brought her man a cup of coffee fearfully followed him
towards the scene of the kill. With the partly devoured furry rodent in
its maw the alien made for its hideout. Ralph snatched up a pitchfork
and flung it at the monster pinning it to a support beam rising from
the floor of the barn.
"Ugh what is it and where has it came from?" Liz enquired of her
spouse. The hairy brute lay there fixed firmly to the timber but lying
on its back with its bristle-covered body and limbs still twitching as
the dark blood pumped from out of its wounds. "I would say it came out
of a bunch of bananas in the larder and if I am not mistaken I would
say it's a tarantula," her husband answered in an exaggerated superior
all-knowing manner, and then he winked light-heartedly at Liz.

by Don Passmore ?