At a UFO convention in Las Vegas, I couldn’t take my eyes of a girl with multi colored hair. She wore a skin tight Star Trek uniform that outlined her curves as Jeri Ryan’s costume did in Voyager.
The girl I eyeballed was smoking hot too as my friends used to say about Ryan. I shuffled over to her on my size 18 web footed snow shoes I had purchased to leave Bigfoot tracks in the snow, but wore now with my one piece alien costume that covered me from head to toe in green and purple splotched latex that represented an alien from a snow covered planet.
“Hi, my name’s Joe.” I said. “Are you from Earth?”
She gazed at me through her purple irises that spun and changed color every two seconds. Never knew they made contact lenses able to spin.
She smiled showing filed down teeth. Must be fake, but they looked real. Then her calming voice washed over me as an ocean wave replacing years of rejection and opened a world of possibilities. Her sharpened teeth became a thing of beauty. I wanted her to bite my tongue. I put a hand to her waist, and she threw me against the wall.
She smiled again and said, “You can look, but never touch.”
I looked for a battery pack, but nothing could be concealed under the clothes she wore. “Damn girl, are you electrified?”
Her hair, it must be hidden there. I raised my drink as if to make a toast and dumped it onto her head. Sparks flew, her face melted, and metal shone through.
The Jeri Ryan lookalike pointed a metal finger, grabbed me with her vice-like-hand, and hung me out of the window on the 25th floor. I kicked and screamed and tried to return inside, but she laughed a sweet robotic sound and said, “Joe, never, never make a robot mad.”
“How can a robot be as beautiful as you?”
Her sharpened teeth took a bite of the glass she held in her free hand. I heard it crunched when she chewed it and then spit out a fine spray that cut through my latex costume and into my skin. I felt her metal fingers that were holding me losing their grip, so I tried to reach safety by swimming through the air. During my struggle the glass she had blown onto me cut into my skin and a stream of blood ran from every cut.
“Look,” she shouted in her robotic voice. She yanked me inside and shook me until my blood flew like drops of water from a wet dog “I’ve found a human,” her mechanical voice said.
The conventioneers surrounded me in a circle when she dropped me to the floor.
“I want to operate to see what makes it tick,” came from an armpit of one alien who had six. “No fool,” came from another, “Have sex with it to see if it can conceive hybrid beings like us.”
A snakelike alien with two heads said, “Be careful, where there’s one, there’s a thousand.”
Fear lit all the aliens’ eyes. I blew the Boy-Scout whistle I wore around my neck and the Disintegrating Swat Team burst through the doors and windows with laser’s blasting and soon only puddles of melted metal and some sparking wires covered the dance floor.
All that was left of my dream was a memory. I’d never know how it would have been to have sex with Jeri Ryan even if she were a robot look-alike.
“You really liked her, huh?” The swat commander said.
“Hate to admit it, but I did.”
“Birds of a feather,” the commander said.
“Made it so you’d bleed and think like a human.”
The commander aimed his laser at my hand and pulled the trigger. My skin melted and blood dripped from my metal fingers.
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