How Zorgon Five stole our most precious resource
The churches, mosques and temples were first to go. The commanders of the invading forces of Zorgon Five were suspicious of these places of worship and their potential to mobilise large numbers of people in a short space of time. So they were obliterated.
It didn’t take long. Neither did much of the destruction of Earth, in fairness. After all, they had invaded on a Thursday. The nerds that control Zorgon Five’s data hubs had researched this for centuries. Nothing much happens on a Thursday, least of all an invasion from outer space. The idiots weren’t expecting a thing.
In fact, something quite strange happened when Zorgon Five’s purple men with yellow spots first arrived on Earth. It was a deadly cocktail of the people of Earth gradually having become slaves to Google’s algorithms and Sky News mistakenly reporting that the visitors were Martians, rather than Zorgonians. So the world typed variations on Mars Attack into their search engines and ended up making Indian Love Call by Slim Whitman the fastest-selling download of all time. That was the soundtrack to the slaughter, boomed out of car stereos and balconies from Braintree to Bangkok. It confused the Zorgonians, of course, who were expecting machine guns or missiles of some kind. As it was, they suffered no casualties during the invasion rather than the millions they had forecast. It was a bit of a bonus, all told.
The commander of Zorgon Five, the controversially unelected Hedraxion Blue Skull, possessed flair and creative thinking that was unusual in interplanetary warmongers. Rather than destroying Earth’s nerve centre upon arrival and cutting the source of leadership, he left the White House for last. Everything else went and the President of the United States was permitted to watch as the world crumbled. Strolling into the Oval Office, Hedraxion Blue Skull stopped for a few touristy pictures and watched the rolling news on widescreen (strangely, the BBC had opted to run the invasion second, behind William and Kate’s visit to a dolphin sanctuary) before addressing the President.
“Mr President”, said Hedraxion Blue Skull. “We have taken over your planet. We have trawled extensively, from the top of Mount Everest to the depths of the Mariana Trench. We have searched for the elixir of life, which is clearly the reason for our presence and which we subsequently found buried centimetres beneath the Earth’s crust underneath a Starbucks just outside Woking. We have also searched high and low for someone of use to take back with us and help to establish Zorgon Five as the galaxy’s master race.”
The President brightened up on hearing this, believing that he was about to be saved and that his canny decision-making had obviously impressed his new visitors.
“We have found nobody of interest”, continued Hedraxion Blue Skull. “And so everybody on the planet must be eliminated. For that is how we roll, Mr President.”
This was a setback for the President. He had coped with the threat of nuclear war from many countries and dealt admirably with countless terrorist strikes from all corners of the globe, but now this purple-and-yellow guy was about to render his legacy completely redundant. The President thought it over. No longer would Wikipedia proudly proclaim his humanitarian work from the first paragraph of his page. Instead, it would all be about how he let the Earth be destroyed despite what he had thought was an inspired decision to embed an MP3 of Indian Love Call by Slim Whitman in every webpage in existence.
“Is there nobody we can offer you?” said Mr President. “No-one at all whose skills or knowledge would make your visit worthwhile?”
Hedraxion Blue Skull pondered for a short while, taking up the time-honoured thoughtful Zorgonian pose adapted from Roy Castle’s ubiquitous stance during the extraordinarily popular repeats of Record Breakers, which dominated Zorgon Five’s television schedules. Eventually, he spoke.
“We have enough oil to last us ten lifetimes”, boomed Hedraxion Blue Skull. “We have perfected the art of chocolate-making, of origami, of pasteurisation, of trampolining, of prising open those ludicrously tightly-packaged earphones without injuring ourselves. We discovered the perfect three-minute pop song. We broke the galaxy record for the 100metres at the last interplanetary games. We can turn horses into glue, sand into diamonds and, of course, as you will no doubt have discovered yourself long ago, Mars bars into radiators. There is, however, one thing which eludes us, something which I believe your planet can offer us.”
The President had nearly given up. He was slumped in his reclining chair, emotionally battered and bruised. How did they miss it all those years? Mars bars into radiators. Of course. But now, perhaps, one last crumb of salvation.
“What is it?”, he said. “We can give you anyone.”
“Well”, replied Hedraxion Blue Skull. “We’ve invested millions in our football team but they can’t seem to find quite the right formula. We’re in the second division of the Interplanetary Super League Brought To You By Wal-Mart these days but even down there, we can’t string two wins together. Even Sven had a go. It’s hopeless.”
The President knew exactly what was coming, but still Hedraxion Blue Skull pressed on.
“Basically, we need the one person on Earth who seemingly has had a drink from the elixir of life. The one person who keeps scoring goals even though he’s now 3,513 years old. If we need an equaliser in injury time away to Bogdan Three Thousand, we have nobody to turn to. Nobody!”
The President wasn’t listening any more. He was already dialling.
“Hello?”, said Kevin bloody Phillips.