“Our star was beautiful, our star was perfect,” said the tiny alien, “and then our great monitoring systems alerted us to the fact that you, Dave Maris, named our star the dreadful name of MOOCHIE GREENFIELD! So you must take us to Ingleside and change the name of our star to something less awful!”
“I’m not sure if I can do that,” said Dave, “I named a star after my cat for his birthday and I don’t think I can change the name…”
“You WILL change the name,” interrupted the alien, poking his tiny spear in Dave’s back with each syllable.
“Ouch! How do I do that? The name has been registered already, I got a certificate, a star chart and everything, how would you know about the name anyway, that star is light-years away!”
“We have monitoring systems to alert us to threats to our star. No threat has been bigger than this. Our researchers have determined that you can change the name of our star and you will! Neither you nor the cat, Moochie Greenfield,” the alien growled, “will be released until you take us to Ingleside and change the name of our star!”
At this the rest of the aliens cheered, waving their tiny spears in the air.
“How do I do that?” said Dave, “I’m all tied up and I can’t move! I don’t know where this Ingleside is, anyway.”
“We will untie you, but you will be guarded at all times, but your cat will stay here until the name of our star is changed and we can go home to live in peace.” stated the alien as another cheer rose from his fellow aliens.
February 5th, 2012
It all started one stormy February evening when Dave came home from work after a long hard day with his arms full of grocery sacks. He had stopped off at the store on the way home because he had run out of cat food just that morning and knew he would be greeted with a loud meow (much like Simon’s cat) as soon as he walked through the door. Imagine his surprise when as he entered his apartment, it was eerily quiet, with no sound of his beloved cat anywhere. He was about to call out when suddenly he tripped and fell, bags flying everywhere, causing him to laugh at his own clumsiness, until he was hit over the head and darkness enveloped him.
When Dave came to, he realized he was unable to move. For a moment he thought he was paralyzed, but then he felt tiny feet walking on his back and realized he was tied up with what seemed to be a silky twine. “What’s going on!” he shouted and was poked in the ribs by something sharp.
“Silence, prisoner,” a tinny voice said, as Dave looked through the kitchen only to see that his cat was likewise tied up with what looked like a ball gag in his mouth, “you will take us to Ingleside”
“What?!?” exclaimed Dave.
“You are Dave Maris.”
“So? Why am I tied up?”
“You named our star Moochie Greenfield.”
Dave’s mind was a bit hazy, “Moochie Greenfield is my cat”.
Suddenly a half a dozen tiny aliens jumped off his back surrounded the tied up cat in the kitchen, tiny spears all pointing at the cat shouting “Destroy the horrid Moochie Greenfield!”
“No! don’t hurt my cat!” shouted Dave.
“You named our star Moochie Greenfield,” said the tiny alien on his back, “You will take us to Ingleside and change the name of our star.”
February 1st, 2012
This blog is a sort of story and sort of thought experiment. The idea came to me driving to work when I heard a commercial for the star registry and the thought came to me, what if the aliens know what there star has been named, and what if they aren’t happy about it. Hopefully this becomes somewhat interactive with the audience adding suggestions on how the story goes. Right now I plan to make it up as I go along, but hopefully it is somewhat entertaining.
February 1st, 2012
