The Alien Intervention

As the beam took hold of him, Henry knew what to expect. Growing up in the 90s, he’d watched the X-Files and Fire in the Sky. Strapped to a table, some creature with huge black eyes and long, gangly limbs would drill into his teeth and insert tracking chips into his sinuses. But an anal probe didn’t scare him. Any race capable of interstellar travel is bound to have good lube.

Unable to move as the beam pulled him onto the craft. He could do nothing but pray. Petrified, he closed his eyes and waited.

“For pity’s sake!” a voice chastised.

Henry had stopped moving. Struggling to adjust to the light, he couldn’t see the voice’s owner. It was not human, yet spoke with fluency.

“Can we act a bit more professional please?” it demanded.

As the light softened, his reality came into focus. It had sleek, rivet-less metallic walls. Strange, futuristic furniture. A white banner with ‘Intervention’ written across it in red Sharpie.

And balloons. In front of him, three creatures were attempting to blow up balloons.

The shortest entity of the three. A short, wizened, ugly thing with a permanent scowl–from a race notorious for their sensitivity regarding their lack of stature – was furious at its inability to tie the end of balloons off. Balloons were squirting off round the room as if fired from a clown’s gun.

The tallest of the three – an ageless, hairless, botoxed Ted Danson – was demonstrating how to tie it correctly, to no avail. The small one growing more furious with each failed attempt.

The third being, a strange gelatinous blob, viewed the balloons as snacks. Gulping down greedy handfuls, only for them to shoot from its backside as it passed wind. Which was often.

“We need to get our acts together. We’re acting like a bunch of Tau Sagittarii builders here.” The tallest creature barked, identifying itself as the owner of the voice. “We don’t want it to wake up and see us like this. Imagine how embarrassing that would… “. The tall creature turned to gesture at Henry, expecting him to be unconscious, only to find him awake. “Shit.”

The furious, short one followed its gaze. Finding Henry awake, it snorts. “It’s funny looking.”

The blob panics, causing a flurry of balloons to propel from its backside.

“Welcome.” The tall one enthuses, changing tone to something more salesperson like. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for the manner in which you find yourself here. You are not restrained. You are not our prisoner.”

Trying to comprehend his predicament, Henry steps around the room, needing something ordinary to keep him afloat in this world of extraordinary. He finds a window. Outside is space. The most awe inspiring vision of space he’d ever seen, and he has a revelation as to how tiny and inconsequential we are within the Universe. And pee’s a little.

The tall one joins him at the window. “Intergalactic Council protocol states contact should go through more official channels. But, it was agreed that the necessity for intervention was far greater.”

Whether it was the creature’s manner, something subliminal or just its charm, Henry felt no fear or nerves. In fact, he felt comfortable. Like chatting with a friend.

“Ok. But, what can I do?”

“Only you have the power to reach enough people,” the creature says. “Mr President.”

“Please sit down,” The Tall one says, gesturing towards a stool. “You must have many questions. But first, introductions are necessary. My name is Gobkoo. I come from a race of beings from deep within the Lau system. I lead this small group whose purpose it is to initiate more intimate contact with races not yet within the Intergalactic Council.”

It gestures towards the angry one. “This is Aca, a Universal Relations Analyst from the Zenir Quadrant.”

Before turning to the blob, now attempting to absorb one of those hand pumps you can use to inflate balloons. “And Pik-Pak. A political strategist from Ghindrol. One of our finest minds. Our task is to bring you to the Council where we may discuss with you the behaviours of humanity we find alarming.”

“Wow. That’s full on.” Henry says, wide eyed.

“I appreciate this is a lot to take in.”

“It is. But, I have a question.”

“Of course.”

“You said that you needed me because I’m the President.”

“Correct.” Gobkoo affirms. “Your influence amongst other leaders on your world and over the population is remarkable. If we can reach you, then we will set into motion events which may transform your society.”

“Ok, that’s grand.” Henry says, nodding his head. “It’s just that, I’m not the President. I’m not even American. I’m British. A plumber by trade. You picked me up on my way home from a job.”

Despite its grasp of English and casual mannerisms, Gobkoo had still retained an otherworldly air. Yet, the nervous laugh and panicked look it shot Aca and Pik-Pak at that moment was human. It was the unmistakable look of someone realising they’d fucked up.

Advanced races panic with the same lack of grace and dignity as humans. Just with more limbs.

Henry’s statement had thrown the creatures into a wild state of alarm. After casting wild and accusatory insults at one another, wrestling and scratching. They began calling upon all available data. Henry thought about offering help. But realising any contribution he may have would be to recommend they switch it off and on again, he deemed it prudent to keep quiet.

“It’s all here,” Aca says, calling up a particular entry. “We pick him up from Station Road, Southport, United Kingdom.”

“And where were we?” Gobkoo enquires.

“Records show Station Road, Southport.” Pik-Pak confirms.

“So, we’re golden then?” Gobkoo states, looking about for confirmation.

“The President of the United States of America will be in America. Not the UK.” Henry contributes. “Could there be an issue with the locations?”

“We’re beings that have mastered intergalactic travel.” Aca sneers. “We don’t get directions wrong.”

“Search for The White House and see what comes up? That’s where the President should be.”

Seconds later, Pik-Pak answers. “We are due to pick up one Henry Hardicker from The White House this time next week.”

“That’s me! I’m Henry Hardicker.” Henry says, flipping open his wallet to reveal his driving licence.

Gobkoo studies the item and curses. “Nuts! How could this happen?”

“I bet it’s that new work experience beetle they’ve got. The one from Zeta.” Pik-Pak states, now comfort eating a table. “They’ve got it on data entry. Why, I’m not sure, given its lack of opposable digits.”

“It’s from Zeta?” Aca spits. “They’re all useless. Remember that journalist that did the profile on Gobkoo? That was from Zeta. Just used to mash its face into the keyboard. Fortunately it was about Gobkoo, so no one read it.”

“Can we not just head to this other place and pick up the proper guy?” Gobkoo asks, pacing the floor.

“No. There isn’t time. We’re already approaching Gamat Major, then we’re straight in with the leader of the Council.” Pik-Pak informs.  

Gobkoo rushes to the window to see the bustling, futuristic metropolis of Gamat Major looming large and growls in frustration. “It hates me enough without something like this happening! If I turn up with nothing, or the wrong person, I’ll get fired for sure. What can we do?”

Slumping next to Henry, Gobkoo massages its temples. Aca kicks at the balloons whilst chuntering about beings from Zeta. Pik-Pak slurps down the last leg of the table, then stops. “I’ve got it!” It says. “We still take him.”

“But he’s not the President.” Aca states. “We’ve already been through this. Jackass.”

“Correct. I know this. You know this, and Gobkoo knows this. But does the Council Leader?” It shakes its gelatinous head. “It’s an egotist. Remember when it got the leader of the Verqina’s name wrong? It didn’t even realise. It knows nothing. All we need is for someone to pose as the President.”

Gobkoo jumps up, elated, and kisses Pik-Pak. “That’s brilliant! But, who can we get in such a short time?”

The building housing the Intergalactic Council is a monument to civilisations working together as one. Elegant in its beauty. Powerful in the message of peace it delivers. The junction where the physical and metaphysical meet and lead off together as one. But Henry could appreciate none of this as he’s shepherded at pace through the basement.

“Just act Presidential.” Gobkoo states, its arm around Henry’s shoulder.

“And how do I do that?”

“You know, be all… Presidentially. Be confident, but not arrogant. Calm, but assertive. Strong, yet able to bend feebly at the drop of a hat.”

“That’s quite a combination.”

“Rubbish.” Aca begins. “It’s a career politician. It’s used to getting its own way. If you want to get the Leaders’ respect, you need to come out fighting. If I were you, I’d storm straight in there, grab it by the mandibles and state that in no uncertain terms, will you be changing. Should it attempt to intimidate or influence you or your population, you will strike with a swiftness and brutality not yet seen. Then see what it says.”

“Oorrr,” Pik-Pak begins, helping them all to move on and ignore this ludicrous suggestion. “He could avoid saying much at all. The less he can say, the less likely he is to say something which may implicate us.”

“Yes. I like that. Go with that.” Gobkoo enthuses.

“It’s your funeral.” Aca mutters.

Then, with a firm shove, Henry is pushed into a waiting elevator. Although it was unlike any elevator he’d ever seen. There were no controls, no perceptible feeling of motion, and no stench of urine.

“The Leaders going to lecture you about how the path to success is to abandon tribalism and come together as a species. It may ask you a few personal questions, but it’s not listening. It wants to hear that your answers aren’t enlightened. Then, it’ll send you off on the enlightenment journey.”

“Enlightenment journey? What the hell is that?”

“Oh, just some trip to bring about Universal-oneness.”

“That sounds pretty serious.”

“That’s where this can’t fail. When it packs you off, do you know who’s going to take you?” Gobkoo says, waggling its eyebrows. “Me! It’s my job to take the President round the Universe in order to bring about his eternal peace and make him see the error of his ways. In other words, it’s just another Tuesday.”

“Mr President, welcome.” the Council Leader says. Henry had expected its chambers to be huge and opulent. Instead, it was like a dressing room. The Council Leader resembled Burt Reynolds, but with mandibles. It was lying across a couch, naked, but devoid of genitalia. “It is ok to refer to you as Mr President. Isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Henry says, averting his eyes from the unexpected naked form of the Council Leader and looking to Gobkoo for support.

“Excellent. I hope my form does not alarm you. I try to adopt an image recognisable to those whom I have not met. From my research, I believe this to be acceptable to you?”

Henry can only nod.

“Excellent. Now, Gobkoo – Thanks for actually doing your job – But you can leave now. Let the grown-ups talk.”

“If it’s’ ok with you, I’d like to stay.”

“That will not be necessary.”

“I’m fine if he stays.” Henry interjects.

“No. He must leave. Too much as it stake to have someone so junior involved.”

“Really. I’m fine with it.”

“You are too polite for your own good, Mr President. Now if you would care to follow me,” the Council Leader says, stepping up off the couch. “There is much we need to discuss. But Gobkoo will wait outside and you will see them shortly.”

“So, what did old mandible-face want?” Aca enquires.

Henry was now back on Gobkoo’s craft. The atmosphere a relaxed one. The X-Files never had an episode where Mulder and Scully find a bunch of Greys just hanging out. Seeing Aca trim its toenails, Henry could understand why.

“It went like you described. They’re worried about the path humanity is on. It asked a lot of questions, but didn’t seem to listen to what I was saying. Then said that I had to come back to you so that I may experience how transformative the path of peace can be.”

“Textbook.” Gobkoo says, reclining in a chair.

Assessing the correct time to pose his question, Henry waited for a beat before enquiring. “What’s the story with the two of you? Why doesn’t it like you? They weren’t exactly being subtle.”

“Oh, its ancient history.” Gobkoo says, waving the talk away. The subject obviously a sore one. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It just felt very unprofessional. Here I am meeting this advanced race. But they were nothing if not rude. It just didn’t feel right.”

“Yeah,” Pik-Pak agreed. “We’re walking on egg shells every time we’re with them. What gives?”

“And it went through that period when it kept referring to you as Gob-poo in front of everyone.” Aca informs.

Fidgeting, wrestling with internal conflict as to what to say, Gobkoo leans forward. “What I say can’t go any further. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” The group unanimously agree. “Well, it all dates back to school. We were at the same academy. We were both accepted into the council’s elite academy. We roomed together, in fact. Their family has this whole history with the Council. Their parents were high ranking development secretaries, their grandparent’s deputy leaders. So, getting into the Council isn’t just what they’re expected to do. They view it as their birth rite. They’re getting to the top and no one is going to stand in their way. Then you have me. I was there on a scholarship. The most notable achievement within my family tree is death from syphilis millennia after it had been eradicated in most of the known galaxy.

Anyway, so they’re this totally driven, focussed individual. And me, well, I’m less so. I want to do well. But, I’m also there to drink too. I may have had a bit of a reputation. But, I’m killing it in class. There isn’t a single subject that I’m not top, or at least top 2. And they’re struggling. It’s an open joke in the academy that they’re just being kept on because of who they are. Then, at graduation they award the most outstanding student. By any given measure, that would be me. Yet, at the ceremony, whom do they announce? You guessed it. Anyway, there’s outrage. Everyone starts booing, no one is happy. This leads to this whole enquiry that exposes some dodgy internal dealings. There’s a big fuss. But, like with everything, it subsides. Life goes on and we’re forging our own careers. Until we’re both up for promotion. All this history is brought up. People are pointing out that corruption had taken place once before. Is the same going to happen again? It thinks I’m the one stoking up all this resentment and ill feeling to try to get ahead. Anyway, rightly or wrongly, I get the promotion and they’re pissed. Then I do them a favour, by sleeping with the wife of chairperson of the Grand Board. I get busted down, and they get promoted further. Ever since then I think they’ve been looking for an opportunity to get rid of me once and for all.”

     The group nods. Each digesting what they’d heard.

“So, what happens now? What does this enlightenment journey entail?” Henry says, sensing a need to shift the conversation.

“It’s just a cosmic meet-and-greet. Glad-handing with races who show how beneficial the path of Universal peace is.”

“Wow. Ok. So, are we doing this?”

“We could.” Aca says, interjecting. “Or, we could try something a little different.”

“Which would be?” Gobkoo asks.

“It’s just that stuff can get. How do I put this? A little stale.” Aca continues. “It’s the equivalent of a school trip. I’m thinking we do something a little different. We show you what we want you to see.”

“I’m not sure. What if it goes wrong? Weren’t you listening to the story?”

“Don’t worry. What I’m thinking is we show him the real universe. There’s no way in the slightest we’d even bump into someone like the Leader.”

The rules to BarthPharl wrestling are minimal. Someone being punched in the face every few seconds being the only essential component.

Gathered in the arena were races by the score. Laughing and jeering. Caught up in the spectacle. Pik-Pak was more occupied with availing itself of the many snacks on offer. Aca, screaming at the wrestlers, was taking it all too seriously. Henry, however, was conflicted.

“And this is popular?” He enquires of Gobkoo.

Gobkoo double takes. “Yeah. What’s not to like?”

“Well,” Henry says, finding the right words. “It’s just… I can watch this stuff on earth.”

“With the greatest respect, that’s not true. That guy,” Gobkoo says, pointing to a particularly bulky wrestler. “Is 9 feet tall, has 4 arms and can manipulate matter with its mind. This is way beyond anything you get on earth.”

“True. But it’s not that far removed. It’s still people pretending to punch each other.”

“Nonsense!” Aca interjects. “The outcomes may have been predetermined, but the physical peril is very real. There is no pretending there. They should be treated like warriors!”

Gobkoo shushes Aca away and leans into Henry, sensing his unease. “What’s the matter? Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“Look at it from my perspective. This morning I not only found out that intelligent life exists in the universe, but that it’s many and varied. There are all these wondrous things I’ve seen and heard, things that would apparently transform human society as we know it. But just when I’m on the verge of having some of this explained, I end up here. Watching this pantomime.”

Pik-Pak drops a bag of Snarl nuts to restrain Aca. “For everyone’s sake, can we refer to it as Sports Entertainment?” it asks. Gobkoo takes a swig of ale and chuckles.

“Have I said something to amuse you?”

“No. And please don’t take my reaction as an insult. It’s just I’ve seen this before. My question to you would be: What were you expecting?”

Henry pauses, thinks, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Something amazing I guess. Something to make me run back and shake them out of the apathy they’re in.”

“And is this not enough?” Gobkoo says, gesturing at their current surroundings.

A sceptical lift of the eyebrows is Henry’s response.

“Take a moment and look about. What do you see?” Sensing Aca bristle ahead of the potential answer, Gobkoo continues before Henry can answer. “Other species I’ve seen at your point in its evolution all want the same thing. A fantastical, life-altering event that can be used as a stepping stone. What that really means is you want the technology. You want the craft that can travel incredible distances at incredible speeds. You want the ability to do the unthinkable. You want a shortcut to happiness. But that’s not the answer. Technology won’t bring you the peace you say you want. Unless you change your thinking, it’ll just become something to wage another war – the worst war you can imagine. That’s why I asked you to look around. Here, scores of different species and races coming together to enjoy something, as one. There is no conflict. There is no inequality. Unless humanity can learn to put aside its petty differences and not only learn to work together, but with the rest of the cosmos, it’s doomed. That is the path to enlightenment.”

Henry exhales, digesting what he’s heard. Seeing this, Gobkoo places an arm around his shoulder. “You regard us as something strange. Yet, we have more in common than you realise.” It hands him a glass and motions for him to drink. In doing so, Henry smiles at the recognisable kick of alcohol. “But, if it’s crazy stuff you want to see, then maybe let’s have a few more of these first.”

The history books won’t show it, but Henry became the first person in human history to be kicked awake by a non-human intelligent being. It’s a first he doesn’t publicise.

     “You’re alive!” The Leader exclaims, relieved.

     Struggling to focus after being thrust into consciousness, Henry paws at his eyes. Focus comes. As does the hangover. He finds himself naked, wrapped in a blanket underneath a table, using a half-eaten kebab as a pillow.

     “There, there.” The Leader mutters, peeling a limp lettuce leaf from Henry’s forehead. “It’s over now.”

     Across from him, Gobkoo and the others are stood against the wall, heads bowed like chastised children as the Leader paces in front.

“You have a little party last night?” it enquires, strolling around the room, peering at the after party wreckage in very deliberate fashion.

Attempted responses from Aca and Pik-Pak come as the semi-conscious groans and the raspy croaks of the morning after casualty.

Gobkoo wobbles, still drunk, but masks this by adopting its salesperson demeanour. “Stayed up late debating moral relativism. Got very involved. Hence the sore throats.”

It paces the room, casting glances about the debris is if looking for something. “It’s just that we’ve had some reports of some unruly behaviour last night. A few inebriated individuals running amok. So, just wondered if you’d seen anything whilst you were out on the enlightenment journey?”

“No.” Gobkoo says, their voice breaking in doing so. “Nothing. Was very quiet.”

     The queasy retching of Pik-Pak struggling to contain the contents of its vast stomach does nothing to seal the authenticity of these claims.

“Really? Ok.” The leader says.

“What happened?” Gobkoo asks.

“From what I know so far, it started at the Grand Intellect of Efrat. The most pure intelligence for 15 nebulas. This group arrived and preceded to,” it pauses, trying to find the correct phraseology. “Bother it.”

Fragments of memory flash through Henry’s synapses. Of drunkenly stumbling. Of asking it ‘An idiot says what?‘ Of running away giggling.

“From there, they made a detour to skinny dip in the Waters of Eternal Consciousness. Traumatising a group of visiting Quantum Nuns.”

Another memory jolts Henry. The calm, peaceful waters. Complete serenity. Then shouts of ‘cannonball’. Pik-Paks bare backside. The piercing shriek of Nuns.

“Before they took in an exhibition of the Figures of AFFA. Where these most treasured artefacts were… played with.”

Before the leader is finished, Henry has closed his eyes. They had run out of sexual positions with which to put these structures in. Their parting gift being to leave a mound of the figures under a sign announcing ‘AFFA taking it up the Higgs Boson’. They’d been particularly proud of this. In the cold light of day, it may not have been they’re best work.

“The Orb of Entanglement is also missing, and we believe these individuals responsible. They are still at large, so I’m making general enquiries to see if we can help track them down.”

The Leader stops in front of Gobkoo and stares. Gobkoo stares back. Neither giving an inch.

“Terrible business.” Gobkoo says, giving nothing away.

“Let’s cut the crap. I know it was you. I just can’t prove it was you. So, why don’t you save us all the bother and just ‘fess up?”

“Honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on! Look at you all. You’re so hungover you can barely stand. If you weren’t drinking last night, then how do you explain that?” The leader says, pointing to Pik-Pak, now a very sickly shade of green.

“Low blood sugar.” Gobkoo says. “I reckon if we get a fried breakfast they’ll be right as rain in no time.”

“That’s horse crap and you know it. What’s worse is that this is just so totally Gobkoo. You think you can just go off doing whatever you want to do whenever you want to do it.”

“All I’ve done is what I was asked to do. I’ve taken this creature on a journey of enlightenment.”

“What you’ve done is nearly kill the damn thing. I mean, look at it. The saggy, podgy abdomen. The hangdog look. It’s been a while since I’ve seen genitals on a being, but that one is all small and shrivelled. It hardly screams strength and virility. You’ve sucked its life force from it!”

“It’s just cold in here.” Henry offers, pulling the sheet further round him.

“All you had to do was show this poor creature round. I doubt it has the mental faculty to understand any of it, but it’s what we have to do! We have to take these lesser, pathetic races and level them up. Make them realise it doesn’t matter if their genitals are small and insignificant. Pleasure can be given in many ways. It matters not about their inadequate educational systems – This one doesn’t even know how to consume a tomato properly,” The Leader says, peeling a slice from Henry’s cheek. “Because we have better schools. Yet, because you’re Gobkoo, you decided that none of this matters. You just wanted to create a fuss again. You wanted this creature to complain about its treatment. You wanted to undermine me so that you could swoop in and take from me everything I have. Just like you always do.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“But not this time. Enough’s enough. I’m going to enjoy busting you down so far that even if you pop up again after a couple of millennia, you’ll still be on the bottom rung of the ladder.”

“How are you going to do that? You just said you can’t prove it.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way. Trust me. And maybe you’ll be taking your little pals with you too. Just to teach you a lesson.”

The Leader steps back, looking to see how its threats land. Gobkoo struggles to contain a grimace. But, it’s enough. A tell in its usually steely poker face has given it an opening.

“Unless of course you confess. If you confess and take total personal responsibility for all this. Then I’ll see that your friends go unpunished. They can walk away.”

Another grimace. This one isn’t masked. Despite its connections Gobkoo knows wriggling out of this one is impossible. Finding the evidence is only a matter of time. Then the repercussions will be severe. But seeing Aca and Pik-Pak punished too would be most painful. After taking a deep breath, it turns to its colleagues and smiles.

“No.” Pik-Pak calls.

The smile dislodges another of Henry’s misplaced memories. Several in fact. Throughout his time with Gobkoo, that smile had been ever present. That warm, welcoming, non-judgemental smile. The evening had been one of the best of Henry’s life. He couldn’t remember laughing so much. In amongst the strangest of situations he’d met three of the kindest beings anyone could ever hope to meet. They had shown him nothing but, kindness, compassion and friendship. And a night he would never forget.

“Excuse me.” Henry says. Moving to wrap the sheet around his modesty as he stands. “But, you have it wrong.”

Perplexed by this intervention, the leader turns. “Huh?”

“You have it wrong. Gobkoo didn’t do any of that. They,” Henry says, gesturing to Aca and Pik-Pak. “Weren’t involved either. I’m not sure who it was, but it wasn’t them.”

“Oh, sush.” The Leader says, waving Henry away. “What do you know?”

“A lot as it happens.” Henry asserts.

“Why would I listen to you? Your race isn’t known for its intellectual superiority is it? The Ape that lost its fur and discovered the perm. You’re hardly a reliable source.” it approaches Henry and addresses him with the slow condescending tone of someone talking to an elderly relative. “Thank. You. For. Your. Time. Now bugger off.”

“I know you have a problem with Gobkoo, but there’s no need to be such an ass.”

Its demeanour flips. Gentle condescension turns to something more sinister. “Big mistake Monkey man. Do you know how easy it would be for me to make sure your species has a little ‘nuclear accident’?”

“Pretty easy I’d guess.”

“Damn right it is. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Now if I were you I’d shut up.”

“Ok. It’s just I’m intrigued to know how exactly you’re going to pin this on Gobkoo seen as you’ve already said you have no evidence.” It turns, annoyed. “And also because this entire conversation has been recorded. And you’ve just confessed to wiping out another race.”

Henry points to the wall where his phone is positioned. The leader looks from Henry to the phone, and back again. Its mandibles clicking in frustration.

“We were doing Tik-Tok videos last night. I guess I must have forgotten to turn it off. Would be terrible if that got out.”

Advanced races take just as long as humans to weigh up the best options when being blackmailed, with equal amounts of arm flailing frustration and cursing.

“You devious little…” It says, kicking out at a discarded takeaway box, sending a shower of cold fries across the room. Pik-Pak flinches, as if sensing a great disturbance in the force. “I won’t forget this.” It starts backing out the craft, but pauses at the threshold to aim an accusatory finger at them all. “You mark my words I’ll… ” But it takes a final step out of the craft before finishing its sentence.

Growing up in the 90s and having watched the X-Files and Fire in the Sky, Henry wasn’t sure what would happen next. Mulder and Scully had never desecrated places of universal significance, dared a fat blob to swallow a magical orb before blackmailing a prominent political figure. After that final season, he thought, maybe they should have.

The End.