Meanwhile, out on a far-off desert ridge, a man in a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts peered through an old battered telescope as he sat atop the ridge. Off to his side were a tape recorder, a camera, a pencil and pad of paper, and a bottle of bourbon.

"So, this is how they want to play things, is it?" he said to nobody in particular. "They think they can just send good old Davey Kessler out into the New Mexico desert hunting aliens because the trip to Moonscar Island was a dud? Don't those morons know that ever since Roswell became a tourist trap, all the aliens started landing in Arizona?" He sighed. "Besides, the chances of anything coming from the stars are a billion to one."

Right on cue, a bright green light streaked through the sky overhead, nearly sending Kessler tumbling back in shock at the sight.

"But still, they come!" he proclaimed as he scrambled to his feet and made a mad dash for his car.


As far as Daphne was concerned, this night was perhaps one of the worst she had experienced on the road, courtesy of a perfect mix of Velma's snoring, the specter of the Mystery Machine's radiator going kaput in the middle of the desert, and just flat out being too tired to sleep. All she could do for the time being was to look out her window and hope that she might possibly see an interestingly shaped rock formation or something out there in the vast, empty expanse of the Sonoran.

Look on the bright side, she thought. At least it'll be over in a few more minutes, and then it'll be off to sleep on a proper matt –

Just then, a crackling noise rose up from the CB radio, derailing her train of thought in an instant.

"What the?" she whispered as she grabbed the mouthpiece. "Hello?"

"Bzzt…were plants and birds, and rocks and things…" came the staticky reply.

"I'm sorry, but could you please repeat that?"

"The heat was hot…bzzt…"

"I say again, 'could you please repeat that'?"

"I've been through the desert on a horse with no name…"

She scowled. "Okay, what's going on? Because if this is some kind of joke, it's not funny."

"In the desert, you can remember your name…"

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?! Because if you are, you could at least dignify me with a response!"

"Cause there ain't nobody…bzzt…to give you…"

And with that, the static fully engulfed the transmission before finally fading away, leaving behind nothing but dead air.

"Jackass," she grumbled as she hung the mouthpiece back up. "Who do they think they are, anyways, hogging the airwaves like that?"


Kessler's eyes were laser-focused on the green streak coursing through the sky on a seemingly downward trajectory. Already, the thing was beneath cloud level, and the light itself appeared to be getting brighter and brighter.

C'mon, baby– just a little bit closer! All I need is one good snapshot, and then ol' Davey can show his face in a Bureau office again! Just one, solitary snapsh–

Just then, the light suddenly flared, and he veered off to the side of the road. As he waited for his vision to clear, he could swear he saw a large, disc-like object hovering a mere couple thousand feet above him before it darted off into the darkness.

"…a flying saucer," he said to himself. "An actual, honest-to-God, flying saucer." He sharply exhaled. "I swear, who or whatever's flying that thing is either clueless as all hell or trying to make me look like a fool whenever I submit the reports back to the higher-ups."