Okay, so this kind of has been on my profile since forever. Like it has been in both my document manager and my ' DERP FANFICTION' map for that timespan. All I had to do was make the endsprint. And so I did.

I present to you:

Ou-ou-ou-outer Space, ou-ou-outer Space - MUH MUH MUH MUHHHH-

I'm dedicating this to my readers.

You must be thinking: "OH U. WE DON'T READ YOUR CRAP. WE REVIEW OUT OF PITY!" but I love you guys.

AND WITH THAT, I do not mean the cheap internet/friendly love kind. The kind you get by pressing 3 after a pointy bracket.

NONONO, I mean the sexual healing kind. The sensual seduction kind. The kind I put my soul and penis into.

So have fun with my slow update speed which make every chapter less worth waiting for.

ROBU, ROBU,

Mary-Jane

P.S. LOL tl;dr

Outer Space

Chapter 0: Prologue

Crack!, plzkaythanks.

"Oh, Cleatus!"

"What's wrong, Margaret?"

"Would ya look at that?"

Cleatus, for one, decided to listen to his wife and looked into the direction she pointed.

"What in the name of the Lord is that?"

That question was, of course, strictly rhetorical. The farmer never thought highly of women, and even though he loved his wife to bits, she would always, in his book, be as stupid as a cow's ass. That wife of his had some strange ideas. She claimed to see things that the other villagers couldn't even imagine; strange vehicles in the middle of the night, hearing inhumane creatures speak a language a human could not understand without the proper knowledge.

For years, she had been claiming to know one of these 'Martians' – as she had eventually named them – and for years, she had been known as completely and utterly insane among their little village. The poor man had been ridiculed and chased, shunned or thrown rocks at by the little resident schoolboys for his wife's believes, but after a week of this treatment, he learned that it was easy to ignore as long as he kept his wife's happiness first at all costs. And if his wife was happy the way things were, then he would be too.

But even though he never believed the undeniable facts, sheer logic and rock-hard proof his wife threw at him on a daily basis, his mind started to waver slightly as he looked outside the window. For a moment, there was a bright flash and he had to shield his eyes to protect them against the sudden light. After a period of time he had not counted, the flash subsided and after blinking furiously, he was able to see his surroundings clearly.

"Look, Cleatus! Look! It's one of them!"

Cleatus shook his head. This was not possible. At the exact place the enthusiastic woman appointed, in between the smoke caused by something that was undoubtedly some form of explosion, stood a small shadow. A shadow that slowly started to form into a recognisable form. From where he stood, the strange appearance looked almost human – almost being the key word here. He looked strangely like any normal human being would, you know, besides the awkward tentacles sticking out from his bottom half.

His wife squealed excitedly and quickly went to get her coat.

This was not possible. For years people had ignored them because they feared insanity was contagious, for something he didn't even believe himself!

And after all those years, a real life version of all the sketches the poor woman had drawn and shown him was right in front of him, looking slightly dazed and, dare he say, human.

His wife already opened the door and shamelessly ran outside in her undergarments, which were unsuccessfully covered by her raincoat.

He shouted, but to no prevail.

He chased after her, imagining his wife being eaten alive by the vicious creature erupting from the glow, before him being lifted by his legs by the slimy unearthly and very un-armlike tentacles and being chewn upon by sharp, pointy teeth after him passing out by the foul breath of rotting meat and bones.

But then he opened his eyes and stared right into the cruel, toothy smile of his wife.

"Why, Cleatus! What're ye doin' down there in the mud?"

She walked past him as he slowly cralwed to his feet.

He looked, but the vehicle had disappeared. No trace of smoke, no trail of it ever standing smack in the middle of their field.

"Clatus, you comin'? I made some nice, hot soup!"

He shook his head and turned around, slowly walking towards his steaming bowl of heavenly liquid.

Stupid tourists.