CULTURE
The Intergalactic
Space Chronicle
Cookies, UFOs and the Lost Journey
By Fin Hunting
I was very excited about the first UFO I had ever seen. It was a beautiful round plate-like spacecraft just like what people described from other sightings. I decided that if sharing is caring, then this is the right moment to sacrifice my chocolate chip cookies and milk.
As I ran out of our water pod habitat I realized I wasn’t wearing any pants and it was very cold outside. But I was afraid to miss out on what I was certain to be the event of my life. Maybe the aliens would adopt me and take me to see everything that lays behind that blanket of darkness up above.
Or maybe I would find my best alien friend and we would become telepathic pen pals forever. I figured surely that was worth sacrificing a cookie or two.
As I stood at the edge of our dock and watched the mighty metal beast hover over the water I opened my arms to be beamed up, only to be interrupted by Mother, who ran out in a panic carrying a clean pair of trousers for me.
“What will they think if you’re not wearing any pants? She shouted, “This could be the first direct contact with them and you’re not wearing any pants, what kind of humans are they going to think we are?” She lectured me below the bright UFO light, which then dimmed in an instant and fled away without taking even one cookie.
If there ever was a missed opportunity it would have been this one. I could have been a galactic traveler, maybe even gained some status in the wide galaxy, and gotten them to bring humanity into the loop. I could have, maybe, opened a coffee shop in the unknown, where I would have exposed to different non human species to our jibber jabbering, coffee chugging culture.
Instead, I invented the auto pants, the trousers that will find you and zip themselves up your legs, just in case you don’t have the time to put them on yourself. Just in case you have a once in a lifetime chance to board an alien aircraft.
It’s not all bad though, I have a dog named Road and I’ve traveled to Mars over eleven times. The auto-pants’ business has allowed me to live in leisure (you’d be surprised how many people forget to put on their pants, it’s a thing), so it balances out, I guess…