This challenge was to write a story based around “A visitor”. This is my attempt:
“That was a thud!” Eric turned to look at his cat, Isosceles, curled on the sofa beside him and shook his head. “That was definitely a thud,” he said, prodding the idle cat into stirring. It gave the kind of look that if he’d known cat, meant ‘Do that again and I’ll gouge your eyes out’.
Eric stood and made his way to patio window, where he was horrified to see what appeared to be a rabbit hole in the middle of his well manicured lawn with smoke emanating from it.
“Since when have rabbit learned to cook?” he thought. “Honey roast carrot on a bed of lettuce and wild grass for tea,” he mused before sensibility overcame him. “Just how were rabbits supposed to get honey from bees?”
Whatever it was, it certainly warranted closer inspection. No sooner had his hand turned the handle and Isosceles was out the door with a speed reminiscent of some of Eric’s recent dates. Oddly enough, the cat completely avoided the new garden feature in favour of jumping the fence and heading off to where ever cats go when they escape the confines of their owner. Eric had often thought they had a secret hideout they’d all congregate at, exchanging tales of how stupid dogs and humans are, but having tried to follow his beloved cat one evening, he found he’d just gone a few doors so as to be fed again.
With matters returning to hand, the hole in ground had now stopped smoking. It was instead producing a noise that sounded very much like a cross between a dentist’s drill and a woman having her legs waxed. The latter was a presumption based on what he’d seen on TV rather than any real association with women’s legs and wax. The dentist’s drill however was ingrained on his subconscious; such was his love for sticky toffees and Werther’s Original
Eric got himself down on bended knee and tried to peer down the hole to observe, in the first instance, what had made a mess of his beautiful lawn, and secondly, because he couldn’t tell if it were just his mind playing tricks or whether in fact he could smell honey roast carrot. What he actually saw in that very moment still haunts his sleep to this very day. It was so hideous, so gut wrenchingly vile, that it made his grandmother’s hairy wart look practically picturesque, and he reeled away fighting back the urge to part with the contents of his stomach and more recently the macaroni cheese he had just eaten for tea.
They had returned. It was thought these visitors from another planet had all left after their last botched attempt at inter-galactic dominance ended in most of their kind being eradicated vowing never to return, so perhaps this was a stray. Was it indeed lost from its herd and had returned to the place it last remembered? Whatever the answer, the thought of these vile little creatures running amok once more terrified Eric to the point of almost returning to that petrified child sat clinging to the bed sheets as the spider nonchalantly walked all over his duvet. Unable to move, he watched as the creature climbed from the hole in the lawn and waited for its ear-bleeding shriek of a voice to declare its intentions.
“Well now, how the devil are ya? Seem to have crash landed me ship so I have.”
It wasn’t bad enough that these evil little critters had, for so long, hidden the pots of gold that were known to reside at the end of every rainbow, that they then went and secretly invested it all into research towards a space program. Dressed in their shamrock green suits and top hats, sporting wispy beards that resembled tufts of ginger pubic hair, combined with their overly pleasant demeanour it was all extremely vomit inducing for the incapacitated Eric.
“Apologies for the wee mess me boy. I’ll sort ya right out so I will, as soon as I get my hands on some Aridium.”
There was a nod of acceptance, even though he knew Aridium was practically an exhausted commodity on Earth. He just hoped beyond all hope the little guy would leave without singing a yarn, dancing a jig, and do so soon. He was to be disappointed though as his visitor burst into both, and still disappointed further when it seemed his help was going to be needed.
“C’mon ya big oaf. We’ll not find it here so we won’t.”
“Why me?” Eric thought. “I have a good half bag of Werther’s left on the coffee table, and it’s Star Trek tonight. Now my cat’s ran off to get an ASBO, my lawn has a spaceship in it, and I’m being asked to accompany a miniature Keith Richards look-a-like to find a fuel source rarer than a funny episode of Scrubs.”
Tonight was going to be eventful.