“Look, Tone, it’s as simple as this,” my coworker Dwight told me during a coffee break, ”you either support the planet you were born and raised on, or you’re an alien tail sniffer.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering if in fact it was Dwight who was from another planet. “That simple, huh.”
“Dude! What’s with you?” he replied.
“So the Mels didn’t make a good first impression. They wouldn’t be the first.”
“I’m not talking about what they’re doing on Mars, Tone. I don’t give a damn. I’m talking about the two wars they brought here, to Earth.”
“Fine, Dwight, I’ll give you that. But the robots, and maybe the lizards, could come back at any time. Don’t you think we should help the Mels help us keep them at bay? Don’t you think?”
Dwight snorted. “So you don’t have faith in us humans to deal with them on our own? Man, you really are a tail sniffer.”
“Dude, whatever. These things aren’t simple-"
“Wrong, Tone. These things are simple: those fleabags can leave the planet; and take those robots, those lizards, and you tail sniffers with them. That’s simple enough for a whole lot of us.”
With a wave of his hand he got up and left. Probably served me right for trying to discuss these things with coworkers. It’s like trying to talk about religion, politics, or in some cases: sports.
Maybe I would get a lot of flak for being a Melani supporter/tail sniffer/furry/whatever from there on out. That didn’t bother me.
Whether or not Earth survived dealing with all these threats was far more of a bother...