Writing Prompt: Thousands of years ago, aliens dropped humans off on earth. We had one job to do here.
Humanity, the original Couch Surfers of the Galaxy.
They had no home, the human race, no planet to call their own. That was, of course, entirely their own fault.
Once upon a time Humanity inhabited a planet known as Eden; a fruit-filled, blue skied, green grassed, generally beautiful paradise. A paradise brimming with bird song that offered in abundance all that was required to sustain human life.
It was by some miracle, or cruel twist of fate, that Humanity managed to blow Eden up. Gods only know how! As far as the wider Universe was concerned Eden had absolutely no military potential. To be able to create even a simple explosive device should have been impossible. Humanity, however, managed not only to create a simple explosive device, but managed to create a simple explosive device capable of destroying the entire planet on which they lived.
It was by yet another miracle, or cruel twist of fate, that Humanity (unfortunately) survived.
What are the chances of that?
“Nothing but fruit bats and snakes.” they’d said (the Universe that is), “Absolutely no harm can come from Eden, Humanity is safe.”
Well, they’d been more than a little bit wrong now, hadn’t they? In fact it would later become an expression among the stars that: you’ll never be able to – insert task here – as well as a human being can construct a bomb from next to nothing. Example: you’ll never be able to skin a tuna fish as well as a human being can construct a bomb from next to nothing.
The decades following Eden’s demise were a grueling test of patience for those Worlds that had been closest to Eden (Eden that was, and is now a husk of smoking ruin). All planets known to sustain life in just such a way for Humanity to thrive (the right balance of breathable atmosphere, juicy gossip and sun rays that tan) were ordered to offer sanctuary to the poor, homeless creatures. It was only right, after all, that they helped one another along.
The general response had been – sorry kids, there’s no room in the inn – an expression devised by those few humans that had subscribed to the idea of a benevolent God. These same humans also believed that their blowing Eden up was in some misguided way an act of enormous thanks and endless appreciation to said benevolent God.
In the end at least eighteen different alien species gave respite to Humanity, and of them all it was the Ophlagorki that suffered most at the hands of hospitality. The Ophlagorki housed Humanity for the longest recorded span of time, though that span of time amounted to only seven days (what would later be known as the Week from Hell).
In that incredibly short amount of time Humanity managed to:
- Successfully tarmac over every known field on Ophlagon Hive, the Ophlagorki’s home planet.
- Pick every living flower from the root, selling the now dead remains back to the Ophlagorki who hoped they might be able to salvage the seeds.
- Replace every quaint little Ophlagorki shop with a grotesque looking building that was either labelled a Bank, a Post Office, or a Charity Shop; all of which were a means by which to take the Ophlagorki’s money by either: promising to keep it safe, losing it in transit, investing it in stocks, outright stealing it, or guilt tripping the poor aliens into handing it over in exchange for second hand goods they really didn’t need.
- Convert the main populous of the planet to eating meat, which led to the extinction of no less then thirty seven species of Ophlagon wildlife.
- Branch back off into veganism, denouncing the meat eaters and selling the Ophlagorki vegan friendly foods – that is to say the exact same foods that the Ophlagorki had already been eating before Humanity arrived.
So it’s safe to say Humanity weren’t the most popular species in town.
The decision was then made that an expedition would be launched to find Humanity a new home, and to this end there was no cost too high. Just get rid of them! Or words to this effect, were widely spoken by many an alien species, none more so than the Ophlagorki.
In just forty two minutes the wider Universe had located a suitable planet called Earth. The approximate cost of finding Earth was eight hundred billion lives (three of which were human), twice that number in units of fuel and three times that number again in rations of Buckleberry Waffles (the preferred source of sustenance for any self respecting Space Voyager Crew).
Over the coming days Humanity was safely transported to Earth, and left there with but one task to fulfill.
“There is only one thing we would ask of you,” the Universe was on bended knee, practically begging Humanity to behave itself, “we have invested a great deal in finding you this new home, so please, whatever you do, don’t blow it up.”
Humanity smiled, waved the aliens (and the Universe) goodbye, then went about their merry way experimenting with explosives. There was something about making things go bang that simply fascinated Humanity, and the bigger the bang the better.
Some more time passed, and many, many years later (though not nearly enough in retrospect) the Atomic Bomb was born.
I truly doubt this next part needs explaining, but in the interest of bringing our story to a close… Humanity succeeded, once again, in f*cking itself and the Universe right royally over. Only this time the Universe needn’t bother to pick up the pieces, for with the planet Humanity had managed to blow itself up, in its entirety, to the very last man.
Now depending on your outlook on life, and your opinion on glasses of water, you may chose to believe that Humanity either failed miserably in the one task that the Universe had afforded them, or that they succeeded quite spectacularly in the only task they’d set themselves.
As for me? Well, my glass is usually filled with whisky, neat.
I’m not really one for water.
Copyright © K R Perry 2019