A Supreme Emergency
Orbulon was getting ready for the party. He had showered—which his species accomplished by dousing one's self in a sickly yellow acid, but left you squeaky-clean nonetheless—and was deciding on which cape to wear to the event.
"What do you think of this black one?" Orbulon asked, turning to one of his bunny-eared underlings. "It matches my sunglasses, but to wear it with my red shoes is just unthinkable, don't you agree?"
"Why don't you put on black dress shoes instead?" the bunny minion replied.
"I can't," Orbulon answered, frustrated. "The earthling shoe store didn't have size 10 and 444444/555555." He pushed some things aside in his closet. "What about a purple cape? It also matches my sunglasses, and I can wear my purple sneakers."
"Sneakers to a party?" the minion queried. "Seems a bit informal, don't you think?"
Orbulon shrugged by raising his eyebrows. "It's not like the earthling unit Wario will be wearing a tuxedo," he rationalized. "Now, all that's left to decide is…"
Orbulon couldn't finish his thought, however. A loud siren began blaring from the main control deck of his ship, and a red light began flashing.
"Good Gralznorks!" Orbulon cried. He dashed to his radio and punched the talk button. "This is Orbulon, report!"
There was a crackle of static, followed by an alien voice shouting, "Mayday! Mayday! This is a supreme emergency! Will anybody available please respond to the settlement on planet Krublach, in sector 5-8 of the Milky Way Galaxy!"
"Sector 5-8… That's where my mother lives!" Orbulon cried. "Oh dear, I hope she's not in danger!" He punched the talk button again. "This is unit Orbulon, I'm on my way." He turned around, "Bunny minions! Man the bridge! We're going on a voyage!"
"Aye, aye!"
Orbulon sat down in the cushy black commander's chair, and began the startup sequence. "Prepare to leave Earth orbit," he said over the intercom. He fired the ship's thrusters and booster jets, and in no time was high above the planet.
"Minion XK-12," Orbulon said, "Inform me when we can make the jump to light speed."
"Nava computers are still calculating," was the reply. Finally, after two minutes, he said, "Okay, you are clear to fire the Uberdrive when ready."
Orbulon reached forward and pulled a small lever on the control panel. The stars in the main viewer became long streaks of white, and the spaceship throttled into Uberspace.
After about twenty minutes of travel, Orbulon switched on the sub-light engines and the ship slowed down to normal speed. Ahead of him loomed planet Krublach, a dark green sphere with an incredibly wide canyon running across its equator, visible from space.
"Hang on, ma, I'm coming," Orbulon murmured, and he brought his ship through the methane atmosphere and landed in the field outside his mother's house. He lost no time in charging down the ramp and kicking his mother's door open.
"Okay, where's the emergency?" He cried, looking about frantically.
"Oh, hello son," said Orbulon's mother, who was sitting on the couch. She looked just like him, but with frilly hair that kept changing color, and she wore feminine-looking reading glasses rather than black shades.
"Ma?" Orbulon said. "I was told there was an emergency here."
"Oh that was just your father, blowing everything out of proportion," his mother said, waving her hand. "You know how he gets."
"Um… so is there any problem at all?"
"Well, you see, I couldn't get the lid off the new jar of pickles, and I called your father to tell him I had a little problem, and the next thing I know, he jumps on the radio and sends out a mass distress signal. I swear, that man…"
Orbulon slapped his forehead. "That's IT?"
"That's all, pumpkin. Would you be a dear and open the pickle jar for me?"
Orbulon sighed. "Yes, mother." He followed his mother into the kitchen where the pickle jar was sitting on the table.
"How's life on Earth, son?" his mother asked.
"It's good," Orbulon replied as he examined the jar. "I'm having a good time working for the earthling Wario."
"Is he paying you good?" his mother asked sternly. "Because if he's not, we can call the Federation and have them pay him a visit."
Orbulon laughed, a sound that resembled glass breaking. "He's paying me fine, mother. Here, the jar is open." He said, placing the opened jar on the table.
"Oh you're a dear, son," his mother said. "Won't you stay for some jelly bean and pickle sandwiches?"
"I can't," Orbulon said, looking at his watch, which had 15 numbers and six hands that were constantly spinning. "Wario's having a party tonight and he wants all the staff to be there."
"You know, when I was your age we weren't allowed to go to parties. We stayed home and knit beetle sweaters like good children."
"Well, this is the zeroes, and things have changed," Orbulon said. "Besides, how often to I get invited to a party? Anyway, I gotta run." He kissed his mother's armpit and exited the house.
"Prepare for takeoff," he said over the radio. "There's a party waiting for me, and it's got my name on it."