Tiny Alien - The Movie- and Episode Guide

Technical Difficulties Being resolved . . . .

Thank you all for bearing with me while I told the Tale of the Tiny Alien

It has concerned me that when I was done I couldn't figure out how you could read it in order so I offer you this credit reel and the following

Tales of The Tiny Alien Episode Guide

Episode 1 - The Arrival

Episode 2 - The Discovery

Episode 3 - Progress?

Episode 4 - Community!

Episode 5 - Step 3 . . . Prophet!

Episode 6 - Follow that Pirate

Episode 7 - Beyond The Horizon

Episode 8 - Attack of the Meme!!!

Episode 9 - The Band

Episode 10 - Machinery

Episode 11 - Finally

Tiny Alien - the Movie - You're right here!

The ability to see it all one long page with the first one starting at the bottom with the last one at the top:

Tales of the Tiny Alien

I hope you all enjoyed it.

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 11 - Finally

When we last left our Tiny Alien, he was being invited to open the Door to the Sleek Dangerous Thing, having been introduced to Hizzoner and the Fixer by the Lead Singer of the Band.  He had knocked on many Doors, he had asked many questions, he knew now that he was looking for something that for him would be the Ultimate Treat and that he would never be asked to go Home again. Is this then the answer to the heartfelt question "Trick or Treat?" Will the Tiny Alien find  way to live in a Land of Tiny Doors where it's only Halloween sometimes, we'll find out  . . . . 

The Tiny Alien followed the pointing wrench of the Fixer and the approving flashes of Hizzoner and made his way through the door at the back of the Sleek Dangerous Thing. Climbing inside, there was a seat at the fron and a seat at the back.  He settled in to the seat at the fron and then the Sleek dangerous thing reared up to twice the height it was before!

The Sleek Dangerous Thing climbed inside his mind a teensy bit and introduced itself, welcoming him on board and asking if he'd like some In Flight Peanuts. The Tiny Alien, never one to refuse a Treat of course said yes, and CLINK! the upper windows shut down and sealing noises squished sealingly and In Flight Peanuts popped up next to him at the same time In Flight Harnesses pulled him back to the seat and the Sleek Dangerous thing warned him that there would be stronger g-forces shortly as they were heading into space, so perhaps he might want to wait to open the peanuts. 

There was stowage for his bag and his raygun and the Sleek Dangerous Thing lived up to its nomenclature by taking the Tiny Alien out for a game of Asteroids with actual Asteroids. 

The Tiny Alien was very impressed and eventually learned enough to use the manual controls to shoot the Asteroids himself. They took a quick tour of the local solar system, since the Tiny Alien hadn't had a chance to sight see on the way in, and buzzed the Empire State Building for Irony's sake, and returned to Hizzoner and the Fixer, although the Tiny Alien was watching the helm readout he still wasn't able to tell how they navigated back or how they were attached to anything on the planet but still it was a good and exhilarating trip. It was so exciting the the Tiny Alien had quite forgotten to open the peanuts at all.

The top cage open and the Tiny Alien popped out raygun in hand bristling with happiness and joy. "That was GREAT!" But the Fixer's head was shaking 

very gently from side to side.

"Are you where you need to be?" asked the Fixer

"I'm not sure what you mean?" responded the Tiny Alien.

"Well then it wasn't the right fit."

"Oh, I think I see. Well you're right, it was an adventure truly and surely and a great game, but it was a little narrow, and the Sleek Dangerous Thing seems like a great playmate, but I wouldn't want it as a roommate, it would probably eat all the leftover roast beast and drink all the water that the Alex supplied without asking first."

Hizzoner indicated, that indeed, the Sleek Dangerous Thing was forever doing things like that.

The Fixer was bustling down a hallway motioning for the Tiny Alien to follow. They stopped in a darkened workshop. There didn't seem to be Anything To See Here.

"You know," said the Fixer, "That the definition of Alien is in effect outsider, and that you enjoy that definition immensely. It is good to be true to yourself."

"Well, it's much better to be a Tiny Alien when everyone else around you is not. Then you don't seem so redundant" The Tiny Alien had reflected on this himself more than once.

"Do you remember what the first inhabitant you met told you?" 

""Please don't spill the Cocoa, it's very hot?'" 

"A little bit later than than that." 

"That 'Everyone here is from someplace else, but it's still nice to have a place to put one's paperwork.'"

"Yes, that's it. Although paperwork shouldn't really take up so much space if you did things electronically or mentally like you should. Please drink this cup of cocoa and then see if you see anything?"

The Tiny Alien wondered where the cup of cocoa had come from because it was just himself and the Fixer, but he took it and was pleased that it had marshallows in it. As he sipped it he felt himself to be back on the stoop with the Inhabitant that had supplied him the Else, his alien equivalent of skin prickeled and chills ran little races up and down his approximation of a spinal column. He was overwhelmed with the same feeling he had felt back in Episode 2. It was an immense Feeling,  something a bit like the opposite of homesickness and not quite the same as wanderlust.  It was so big, that the intensity of it filled the Tiny Alien and went right out of him expanding throughout the entire workshop, filling the available space with it's out-of-sortedness. 

The Tiny Alien watched the Something expand and saw It, and seeing It opened the door himself and went right in. 

It was perfect.

He was happy.

And it didn't talk to him at all.

The Fixer looked up and studied the Tiny Alien in his Exosuit and nodded.

Handing the Tiny Alien a care and feeding manual, the Fixer stated declaratively,"Good Fit."

In all of the worlds, in all of the realities, in the Dreamtime and the Meatworld there is NO Tiny Alien that is as happy as our Tiny Alien is, sitting exactly Where He Belongs. 

And Where He Belongs moves with him.

Just the way it should.

The End 

(Mostly)

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 10 - Machinery

Everything was going to be all right. When we last left the Tiny Alien he was hanging with the guys from the Band. They were going to take him to the only person they knew who could help him and it would either work or not. We join our Tiny Alien as he finds himself on his way . . . .

He had stayed way into the night and things blurred together because that is what happens when you hang out with bands after the moon sets. He found that he was on a bus with living room furniture, and when he looked out of the window it was almost like being in space, aside from the things that weren't like it. The Bassist was driving the bus, and called out formally "East of the Sun - Half Past West of the Moon, Artificer Centricity!" 

The lead singer was by his side. "Are you ready?" he asked smiling ever so slightly. "There used to be a little river with a ferry, because that really amused them, but then they got very clockworky for a while so they created a road paved with pennies to walk on instead. Here, take this bumpershoot. It's reinforced."

The Tiny Alien declined the bumpershoot and activated the shielding on his ray gun instead. Together they walked down the coppery road. "Why do we need this? " asked our Hero. The explanation came on cue from pretty lilac shaped balustrades. Small copper disks spewed out of the lilac trumpets. The disks clinckled as they bumped off the bumpershoot and force shield landing to the side of the paved pennies. It was pretty, but the balustrade was pretty high up and the Tiny Alien would imagine that it could have smarted if visitors were not forewarned. Of course that might be the point. 

When they got to the door it looked like a perfectly ordinary door, answered by a large light red rabbit in Edwardian formalwear. The lead singer had been about to knock, the rabbit had caught his hand. 

"And good day to you sir, I suppose you will be about to try your luck at the shop? Hizzoner will greet you first and then you may take your chances with the Fixer."

The Tiny Alien wondered what type of chances those might be, but he was quickly distracted by the towering gray electrical being that was flashing lights from the inside and swaying on springs on the outside.  The Tiny Alien was't truly sure of how he knew, but he was positive he was being offered a pot of tea. So he accepted. After all tea came with tea cakes and tea cakes were a Treat and one could not deny one's nature, doubly so here. 

Their host pulsed and flashed at them and shared some cakes and some action potential pastries. A pleasant time was had by all. This of course was Hizzoner who graciously opened the shop door (which was quite gracious because it was two stories tall, and would have posed a problem otherwise). 

Inside was a workshop, a wondrous workshop full of wondrous things. All the things you think should be made but are never made anywhere, might still be made here. And if they weren't made here and you really needed it, it would be likely that it would be made for you when you got here. To describe it in more detail would be impolitic, since it is the most wondrous workshop you can imagine and not the most wondrous workshop that we can imagine. It is quite presumptuous to do the imagining for you. So we shall not.

Please commence with imagining the Tiny Alien entering the most wondrous workshop that ever existed. When you are quite ready, and thoroughly impressed with your own brain for imagining such things, please take another moment, breath deeply and enjoy it. Then, gently, hopefully with a slight smile on your face, continue reading.

The Tiny Alien was there for real and did not have to imagine such a wondrous workshop and he gawked and stared and saw things -- the very things that everyone who ever thought about this workshop had imagined. He was so busy being impressed with such ingenuity that he almost missed the only being that might be able to help, standing on a hydraulic thingie with a giant silver wrench and a determined air. The lead singer made the introductions.

"Hullo there, I've brought you a present." The lead singer sort of pushed the Tiny Alien in front of him.

"Yes, he's quite present." The only one who could help seemed to be made of moon and copper, his goggles were gold and his skin was dusty bisque. There was no way to see his eyes but the Tiny Alien was quite certain he was being stared at. He was not sure if he was being squinted at or if imaginary eyebrows were being raised. Possibly both. 

Hizzoner blinked and flashed: "He is the one who fixes things so that they may be maintained." 

"Which things?" asked the Tiny Alien.

"The things that need it." answered the Fixer. 

It was then that the Tiny Alien noticed what the Fixer was fixing. It was olive green and very intimidating but sleek with all sorts of knobs and dials and weaponry. It seemed to be fidgeting under the ministrations of the Fixer. There were driver's seats but the Sleek Dangerous Thing seemed to be talking to the Fixer directly in twirps and tweets and electrical bursts. It was understood somehow by all that the Fixer was repairing an area where the rain was getting in confusing the poor Thing. 

The Tiny Alien thought of all the things that brought him here, all of the desire and crankiness and watches  and tricks and treats and Indie Oracles and hanging out with the Band and Speaking to Old Men on docks and thinking about how much that was really a grand set of things to bring him here. He still wanted something, like a piece was missing. And he told his story to Hizzoner and the Fixer the best way he knew how. With a plaintive look and a slightly lowered ray gun, he looked upward and held out his bag and said shyly, "Trick or Treat?"

And the Fixer looked down from the Hydraulic thingie and clicked a button that opened a door that was on the top of the Sleek Dangerous Thing.

"OK." Declared the Fixer and he turned to the Tiny Alien and gestured with the wrench. "Come on in."

What does it all mean. Is the Sleek Dangerous thing a Trick or a Treat? Is the Tiny Alien a thing that needs Fixing? Is it really the end of the Vision Quest? The answer to these and other questions in the next and possibly final episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien . . . . .

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 9a - The Band- Encore

By Popular Demand here at the House . . . . 

An appearance of The Moon's Fire Eating Daughter in concert.

Apparently, lack of concert pictures took away from the last Episode, according to some residents. The text for Episode 9 is right under this post, if you haven't read it yet.

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 9 - The Band

When last we left our Tiny Alien he was being escorted to the Band having been given a Pass by the a Ninja In Fake Pants.  He had been in the tiny basket on the very tall pole, he had survived the Bad Puns and the Meme, and ignored the cries of an underinsured  Director. He was on his Way. .  . 

Together they travelled from the Corner of Sky and Sea. It was quite the adventure with sailors with curved swords and seamonster fixations,  and sea saltwater taffy, and various storms and various calms. When it was over they finally arrived somewhere on the coastline of what might have been Ireland, except for the fact that it wasn't.

In all the time they had travelled together, it had never occurred to the Tiny Alien to ask what a Band was. Possibly that was because the Ninja reminded the Tiny Alien of the Alex, but without the whole "what happened to the law of gravity" effect. The Ninja never altered physics, but he also didn't speak much and the Tiny Alien wasn't about to disrupt that, because secretly he was afraid that if he did, the Ninja might change time and space too, and really, one being like that per story is enough. However, the side effect was that the Tiny Alien found himself at building with a shiny laminated Pass that had his picture on it, in front of a Door with two giant beings that were dressed in black canvas and stretch cotton sporting bicepts the size of the Tiny Alien's head and a lot of decorative skin dye. 

He stood tall and declared "Trick or Treat, or Else!"

"Aw gee, aren' you just the cutest thing." One of the large beings bared his teeth while looking down with a clipboard. The Tiny Alien knew that the tooth baring was friendly, but where he came from clipboards with papers on them did not bode well. The one with the clipboard nodded at the other one, who opened the Door. The Tiny Alien then noticed that while the Ninja had gotten him right up to the two black clad beings there were long queues of other beings snaking around the building some of whom were looking very unpleasantly at him. He also noticed that the Ninja was no longer there.

"Excuse me, but I am new around here, could you please tell me what a Band is?" he asked the kneecap of the being escorting him through a series of bluegray lit hallways.

"A Band is the way that people who've had to put their dreams and identities in quiet safe places get to live their dreams vicariously through the tiny group of people who put the real world and paying bills into a quiet safe place so that they can create music. "

"So the Band is a group of aesthetics?"

"More like functional hedonists, they do everything so everyone else doesn't have to. What kind of Band you like depends on which dreams and identities you have. But each Band that forms and stays together long enough to perform encapsulates someone's dreams, and gives those dreams forms and voices. Or bears witness to their experiences. When a Band makes music, the music makes the audience feel like themselves for a small period of time until they have to go back to what everyone else thinks they are. But in their hearts, they know that the Band knows who they are for real. And if the Band knows, why then they are real. Whichever Band it is. The closer the music is to their inner selves, the bigger fans they are of the Band."

"So which Band is this?" asked the Tiny Alien, wondering if he was real since he had never heard a Band. Then he started wondering which Bands the various people he had met liked. Then he realized he didn't know any Bands, so that was a particularly short-lived thought.

"This Band is called "The Moon's Fire Eating Daughter" which frankly, I don't get, and they've been travelling underground playing local gigs for a while, but this is a big break for them, but they know it's just for a little while. No one who sees them tonight will know them when they go back."

The Tiny Alien thought this was very odd, but couldn't figure out enough of what the Gentleman in Black was saying to ask the right questions. On the whole, it sounded like the Band might be just the kind of thing to help him find the Ultimate Treat. 

Finally the winding but angular hallways stopped. They were let into a room that was beautifully lit and filled with food and candy and couches and video games, but no one was there. The Gentleman in Black opened up another door and there were five beings roughly the height of the Tiny Alien all humming and joking and clearing throats while typing away on tiny keyboards and in the corner was a stressed looking woman pacing back and forth on a miniscule communications device.

"Dude, you made it" said one of the five gentleman with what looked like oversized chopsticks in his hand. They were all wearing black, they all looked very intense but happy. He soon came to learn they were "getting ready for the gig".

It seems that part of the deal for the concert they were about to play was that they had to leave their fates up to the Powers -that-Be, and keep trying Come-What-May. In the course of the leaving and the trying, the Powers-that-be, let them know that there would be an Alien, and he would need to Redefine Things. 

The lead singer sat him down and said many insightful and poetic things to him, the accordion  player who was being stifled by playing lead guitar instead told him about the many ways to compromise when working in a team, the bassist told him about Jazz and the keyboardist invited him to the sound check. 

That was when the Tiny Alien heard the Band, and they were Very Good, but he realized that they weren't His Band. They were singing someone else's dreams, but their songs made him think about that other person's dreams and experiences and the Tiny Alien felt like he could understand that other person in a way he wouldn't have if he hadn't listend to the songs. And that, as the drummer would say, was really rather brilliant. 

After the sound check they went back to the beautifully lit room with all of the Treats and no Tricks to be seen anywhere. They laughed and sang and the Tiny Alien taught them some tunes from his world and he sang the Indie Oracle's song for them and they took copious notes. 

The lead singer told him that after the concert, they would introduce him to the only person they knew who could help him, but after that it would either work out or not. The keyboardist suggested that if it didn't work out he could always write a song about it, because you never know where a song might lead you. And then, just like a dream where time moves too quickly when you are enjoying yourself, it was time for the concert. The Tiny Alien got to watch from the lighting control area surrounded by the comfortable whirrs of technology and randomly blinking lights. 

And if you can remember the very first time you heard live music played well with a whole bunch of people who were there because they liked the music, then you should think about that time. Then it will almost be like you were the Tiny Alien, who was listening to live music with other beings for the first time ever, and living in that moment so completely that he might almost be you. That first Band might not have been your Band, but they will have changed a small piece of you forever, in an opening sort of way. 

Almost like you were a Door. 

And when it was over, the Tiny Alien hung out Backstage and was able to talk about the music, and the Band got to ask what they sounded like to someone who had never heard a Band before. And everyone got to feel special to the other ones. Which the lead singer declared meant that it was a Good Gig, even when everyone forgets later. But the Tiny Alien suddenly knew that he was never going to forget, even if the Band did, and that not forgetting was one of the reasons he had been given the Pass. 

Settling down into that comfy thought he plumped up a pillow on a random couch an relaxed into it, setting his ray gun on "mild". He would leave it to the Band. Whatever else was going to happen next, it was probably going be OK, since he was with the Band.

Stay tuned for the next Episode when the Tiny Alien meets the only person who might be able to help. Will it work out or will our Tiny Alien have to take a class in music composition? We'll find out in the next episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien. 

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 8 - Attack of the Meme!

Trouble was coming - E-Ticket Ride Trouble . . . . .

When we last left our Tiny Alien, he was following the Vision Quest, his way having been smoothed by the connections of the Oracle and the Alex from the Land of Tiny Doors. They had travelled to the Wildes of Brooklyn, and there instead of the ship he had expected, he found a Fake Pirate with a raft. He had been warned that there was Trouble, and he was expecting it. As our story continues, we find the Tiny Alien atop the Crows Nest, secure in all he surveys . . . . .

It occurred to the Tiny Alien, once he was safely ensconced in the tiny basket on top the the long pole, that everyone he had encountered so far seemed completely sure of things. The Old Man on the Dock seemed even more sure than the Oracle. The Oracle wasn't always sure, but on reflection he felt that this was more because of her proximity to the Alex. The Alex seemed very sure, but not terribly reassuring, especially with all those odd variations in the laws of physics. 

The Tiny Alien had a lot of time to think about things because he was on Watch, and as everyone knows the problem with being on Watch is that you are waiting for things to change, and they very seldom do. 

Things were in the process of not changing. So he waited, and while he waited he thought and while he thought, the Fake Pirate steered. Things continued not to change. The Tiny Alien then thought about the weaknesses of being on Watch, like waiting for things to stop looking like sky and sea. Then he thought about the fact that he was on a raft and all he could see was sky and sea, and while space was his regular bailiwick he was pretty sure that this was not the way rafts were supposed to travel. He confirmed this observation with the Fake Pirate.

"Oh you're quite right, this isn't the way normal rafts are supposed to travel at all, this is a Life Raft, pun intended I'm afraid." The poor little Fake Pirate looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Druids love puns, can't get enough of them I'm afraid. Convinced they are the highest form of humor. So um, yes this is a Life Raft and you're on a  Vision Quest and Oh dear, can we please just leave it there." The Parrot on the Fake Pirate's shoulder chuckled. 

"Is that a Fake Parrot, too?" asked the Tiny Alien politely.

"Oh no, he's a Real Parrot, and rather cynical at that. He does love the puns though."  

And the conversation continued that way for quite a while. Things still refused to change for quite some time and then the conversation stopped for a bit and the raft rocked back and forth attempting to lull the Tiny Alien into a false sense of security and have him go to sleep. 

And it would have worked too, except for the fact that Tiny Aliens didn't sleep having evolved out of it when a baby boom caused a surplus of Teenaged Tiny Aliens that outnumbered the Adult Tiny Aliens 5:1. After the Unlicensed Nuclear Accelerator Parties became all the rage Adult Tiny Aliens just never went to sleep again, and when that crop of Teenaged Tiny Aliens came of age, they all remembered the Trouble they got into and couldn't sleep because they knew there were still more generations of Teenaged Tiny Aliens to come and those Teenagers would be playing with Wormholes. Sleep was just not a valid survival mechanism when someone needed to Keep an Eye on Things.

So here he was was many millennia from the Baby Boom Evolution Events and far away from his Home Planet but still knowing that Sleep = A Nice Game of Global ThermoNuclear War, and thus he was not rocked into a soft dreaming sleep.  Which left boredom, and boredom led to puns. The puns thought of will not be recorded here, but you may use your own imagination and start out with all of the things that you could use a Life Raft for. 

And when the Tiny Alien ran out of puns, he thought of all of the great and not so great Doors he had knocked on and then he moved on to the Honorable Way of the Knocking, and the Assessment of the Doors. And finally he moved on to the ultimately complicated recitations of the Poe. Then his mind was blank and the Horizon still unchanged.

Then finally  . . . . BAM! Trouble!

The Trouble was Epic, The Battle ensued, there were strait swords, and curved swords and shurikans and wire work !!! 

There were ray gun blasts and gymnastics and Parrots throwing around one-liners! 

There was sweeping cinematography and impossible camera tricks and absolutely no computer effects whatsoever. Everyone was doing their own fighting and no insurance company would have covered this!

Then Finally the Tiny Alien and the Fake Pirate were able to see what was causing All the Trouble. It was a Ninja! The Battle ensued in earnest.

Through the cycling of the sun, and the turbulence of the storm, and the announcement of the Puns and the desperate calls of a director Somewhere, yelling "Cut, Cut I tell you - that wasn't in the scene!!! There's no insurance covering this!!"

And did that stop them? No, no it did not. So what pray tell did? 

During the Fight the Parrot landed on the Tiny Alien's shoulder and whispered in his ear, and the Tiny Alien thought about it for a Brief Second and agreed, using the Holographic Projector in his ray gun he summoned an image of a referee on the sail of the Life Raft and the Parrot whistled and the Tiny Alien called out "TIME OUT" and then all was still. 

That was at least partially because the Alien had also used the Time Out Ray and the Life Raft was also in the corner. No one was really sure what corner, since it was the Corner of Sea and Sky, but one thing was sure, no one was going anywhere until they said they were "Sorry".  (The Time Out Ray was how you disciplined Tiny Alien Toddlers, so it was a very powerful ray since it had to be able to override all the tiny training ray guns that Tiny Alien Toddlers had.) 

"What is all this about?" Demanded the Tiny Alien in his best Grown Up Voice.

"It is my honor, to take part in the greatest debate of all debates, and so I have come to test myself and my profession and continue in the Brahman of the Meme." said the Ninja, and he bowed low to the Fake Pirate. 

The Tiny Alien was confused, but the Parrot was laughing uproariously, "Silly Ninja, that's not the Real Pirate, that's just the Fake Pirate."

"And only for the weekend." added the Alien. 

"But isn't he a Fake Ninja?" asked the Fake Pirate. 

The Alien looked carefully, there were signs, but then carefully again he double checked his readings. "I believe he is a Real Ninja, but he is wearing Fake Pants!" 

"Well then, this doesn't really settle anything does it." Hurumphed the Parrot. 

"Honorable Parrot, most assuredly should you and I engage in either combat or reparte, I assure you that we should meet the most stringent interpretations of the Contest that so Honors the Brahman of the Meme, but we are truly here for the Atman of the Alien. So today there will be no resolution to Ninja vs Pirate, Fake or Otherwise"  All of his weapons suddenly were sheathed on his body. "Most Honorable Alien and seeker of the Way of the Treat, for seeing through the veils, I have now been empowered to let you know that the Band would like to meet with you. Having been found worthy I am now to escort you and these gentleman where you can use this Pass. When I take you to the door you will of course be required to give out the ritual phrase"

And in Unison they said the Phrase together, and all the heavens and seas did know that these four individuals really really meant it from the bottom of their sweet, ninja, pirate and alien hearts and the waters rippled with the perfection of the Joyous Call:

"Trick or Treat of Else!"

Who are the Band? Is the Tiny Alien nearing the end of his Vision Quest? Why does the Ninja remind him of the Alex? How does the Band know the Phrase? What is Brahma?

To find out what happens next join us for the next Episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien!

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 7- Beyond the Horizon

When we last left the Tiny Alien, he was finally in control of his goals. He had seen a Vision of a tiny bakset on top of a very tall pole, and he knew that he needed to be in that basket to get to where he needed to go. The Alex had hailed a cabbie named Crash to take him to the pirates, and the were soon underway to Sheepshead Bay.

"You do realize that here in New York most of the pirates are riding around on office chairs in cubicals with massive quantities of computer power?" inquired Crash.

The Tiny Alien was hardly taken aback by this news. He needed the type of pirate that buckled swash and complained about the lack of rum. He was quite glad to be sure of something for a change, since he had been rather disoriented since coming to the land of Tiny Doors. 

"I do not care about the kind of pirates that raid bank accounts, I need the kind that sail, and none of those cruise ship types either. I need the old fashioned, campy versions. And then I need to sail. " 

"OK, but you know that trans-dimensional trips can get a person motion sick. You should take some Dramamine" and Crash stepped on the gas. Now the Tiny Alien had never been to Sheepshead Bay, so he couldn't tell that anything was out of the ordinary. If you had been to Sheepshead Bay, you would have known that it looked pretty close to the original, and it smelled a lot like the original, but there was an odd Spider Robinson kind of vibe to the one that Crash took the Tiny Alien to. Of course if you've been to the real Sheepshead Bay, you'd also know that any of the things that tipped you off to the change would not have raised a single eyebrow if they had shown up at the real deal, because well, it is Brooklyn and it is a dock, and that's really just the way things are. (Except for Park Slope where they are trying too hard). 

The Tiny Alien noticed that he and Crash were a little small while they were speeding under the human sized cars and such down a long black ribbon with many vehicles called Kings Highway, but when they got to the Port of the Fisher King at Sheepshead Bay everything seemed to be just the right size, and Crash let the Tiny Alien off in front of the dock gate.

The Tiny Alien knew some sort of payment was involved, and tried to pay his way with the candy coins of his home planet, but Crash assured him that with the Vision Quest Service all payments that were due to him would show up in their own time. He did accept a roll of "Smarties" as a tip.

An Old Man waited at the end of the dock, looking the Tiny Alien up and down. The poor little traveller suddenly realized that he didn't know the appropriate greeting for Old Men At The End of Docks. He though about it and realized that perhaps it was the same as the appropriate form of address for off-duty witches. "Hail and well met- Please don't kill me in my sleep." he said, formally.

"I see, you're looking for the Ultimate Treat, and you've been affected by the Indies instead of the Indians for the whole Vision Quest Tour Package." the Old Man rummaged around in his bag that seemed to be full of something active. "Of course they're not really Indians are they, and Native Americans is wrong too, since no one's really native anywhere and there are over 280 recognized tribes most of whom hated each other's guts in various combinations. It would have been like the Israeli Knesset if they'd formed their own government, Indian Nation indeed! Except instead of 30 political parties you probably would have had to invent some new algorithms in order to get a majority government HA! The Mayans would have kicked everyone's butt if you had to form coalition government through math. That would have shown those Apaches . . . . found it, here you go kid." and with that the Old Man hand the Tiny Alien a stick with batteries and some sort of long thing with lights. The Old Man showed the Tiny Alien how to turn it on and make it rotate with a continuous wrist movement. The Tiny Alien concluded that he had made a proper greeting based on the enthusiasm of the OLd Man's Response.

The Tiny Alien made the horizontal bar spin and from random patterns the spinning created letters and words in glowing red dots. It read, "I know why the rum is always Gone".

"You'll have to spin this for a while, probably about eighteen minutes or so, because it's more elegant that way. But your ride will show up and you'll be able to continue on to the Trouble."

"Crash, the cabbie, did warn me that there might be Trouble." The Tiny Alien braced himself and looked steely eyed to warn the Trouble that he was prepared.

The Old Man found that pretty impressive, and they passed some time discussing the various types of Trouble that people on Quests of one sort or another usually got into. With time pleasantly passing, the Tiny Alien never saw the raft with the sharks head and the basket on the pole show up. The Old Man, however, did not miss a beat. 

"You're not the regular pirate."

"Oh no," remarked the rather sweet-faced pirate with the patch."I'm not the Real Pirate at all. I'm just the Fake Pirate and only for the weekend." He pulled expertly to the dock. "I hope that will be OK. Truth be told I really don't even like rum, so if we could pass on the formalities, I'll just be taking the passenger on his way."

The Old Man sniffed the air around his head. "Well you smell legit, so I suppose that's what you are. Off with you, " He patted the Tiny Alien on the back, and whispered into where his ear might be if he had one. "Be careful, he smells of E-Ticket ride, there's Trouble ahead for sure." and he lowered the rope ladder from the dock down to the sailing raft. 

The Fake Pirate showed him around and invited him to climb up to the basket called a "Crow's Nest" for the ride if he liked. The Tiny Alien settled in, ray gun at the ready for the next part of his adventure. As they pulled away from the dock, he could hear the Old Man singing a familiar tune.

"You can't see which way you're going

 Or Which way that Time is flowing . . . ."

What is the Trouble Ahead? Stay tuned and find out in the Next Episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien!

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 6 - Follow that Pirate!

Thank Goodness, things are back to properly abnormal.* When we last left our Tiny Alien the forces of the Universe and the various Powers-That-Be, had turned everything topsy turvy with colors and fire and prophesying.  The Oracle had burst into song and the Tiny Alien suddenly knew what he had to do but he had no idea how . . . . our story continues. . . . .

The Oracle was busy glaring at her brother whom the Jacko's had called "The Alex". In his hand he held a gold wrapped Treat of the chocolate variety. The world had seemed somehow slippery and much brighter, the strange song the Oracle had sung hovered in the air . . .  one line echoing over and over " For the pirates keep on rowing" . 

He had seen space pirates, they didn't row at all but they had ray cannons and you really tried very hard to avoid them. But a vision swam in front of his eyes, and he saw a tiny basket on top a of long pole with a gathered curtain and a one-eyed entity in front of a large wheel. The entity was wearing odd clothing: an eyepatch and a hood, a cambric shirt, pants that really weren't, and shoes that covered no feet.  In the vision, the Tiny Alien was inside the tiny basket looking out and forward surrounded by water and stars and he knew, knew he must find his way into that basket . . . . . 

The vision receded. He was once again in the neighborhood. The Alex was next to him with a tray of chocolate covered apples on sticks drizzled with caramel and coconuts. 

The Oracle was behind the window mixing things with the strange tubes and nozzles and grinders that created brightly colored drinks. The only music was coming from the radio waves emanating from behind a tiny door that that Tiny Alien had not yet knocked on and it sounded nothing like the song that he had heard so clearly a minute ago. There was no sign of the Jackos or the neighbors that had joined them. A light snow was threatening to fall. the lighting and colors had all returned to the proper ambiance for a planet at this cycle of rotation around it's single sun. Everything seemed perfectly normalish except for the energy readings on the Tiny Alien's ray gun that indicated that the Alex was expending an awful lot of some kind of energy pretending to be mostly there. Then the energy reading gave up, and started flashing "Would you like some chocolate, instead?" in Intergalactic Esperanto. 

Reoriented, the Tiny Alien quickly checked his bag, and the rest of the settings on his ray gun. He took a sip of the egg cream the Indie Oracle had made for him. It was delicious and bubbly and milky and chocolaty. There were no eggs.  Thus refreshed he asked. "Where did everybody go?"

The Oracle looked up from the electric blue drink she was mixing. "Oh that was just their spirit forms, except for Alex, but including me. They mostly went back to their bodies. It seems like you are officially on a Vision Quest. Did you have any extra visions?"

"Yes, yes I did!" and the Tiny Alien excitedly told her all about the tiny basket and the odd entity and the line from her song . He was quite pleased that he seemed to be ahead of things for a change. "I must get to look from that basket. I know it. The rowing pirates will be able to take me where I need to go." And with great clarity he realized something and then found himself saying it aloud. "I am going to follow this quest and it will take me to the Ultimate Treat, and when I have this treat I will be completely happy to wait until the Time of Trick or Treating." His heart swelled and he began to realize what the Green Gentleman must have felt like when his heart grew three sizes. There was hope and adventure ahead! He knew it right down to the alien equivalent of the mitochondria of his cell-like structures. How wonderful it was to Know Things! How exhilarating it was to Have A Plan!

He turned to the Alex, who was expending a little less energy on Being There. "I think I need to find pirates, how should I do that?"

The Alex shrugged and offered him an apple with chocolate and carmel and pecans. Without saying a word, he stepped off the curb and into the street. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and a piercing noise cut through the hub-bub of the city lunch crowd. From around the corner, a yellow vehicle with black markings and the word "Taxi" pulled up in front of them as the Alex made a flagging symbol with his hand. The driver was a yellow being with black lettering on his gray clothing.

"Where to!" asked the being. 

"It's for my friend," said the Alex.  

The being looked at the Tiny Alien and what he was carrying. "Oh dear, well let me take the top down if he's going to carry that thing. Better safe than sorry, and I don't want him shooting any holes in the roof!" He got out of the vehicle and started breaking down the top covering and folded it up inside a compartment to the rear. He was whistling softly to himself. It was a tune the Tiny Alien had learned from the Green Amphibian called All Kinds of People In The Neighborhood. The whistling was very pleasant and when he was done he opened the back door for the Tiny Alien. "OK, sir, please remember ray gun or no ray gun, you still have to wear the seat belt, it's the law you know. Now, where to!"

The Tiny Alien arranged himself into the seat in the back and carefully placed his bag next to him, fastened himself into the safety harness, positioned himself for maximum ray gun coverage in case of attack, and declared "Take Me To Your Pirates!"

The Oracle called out from her window, "It's OK , Crash.  Alex got him started on a Vision Quest."

The driver sighed, " I suppose it's better than the last time, when he said "Infinity and Beyond"

Alex finally piped up. "It's classic quote you know." 

Crash looked Alex straight in the eye. "Yeah, but you meant it."

 "I did pay the fare." Alex smiled back. "Do you want some chocolate"

The driver passed, but asked to have some saved for when he got back.He let the Tiny Alien, know that he was starting the meter and that he could relax, because there shouldn't be any Trouble getting to the Pirates, all of the trouble should happen after they got there.

The Tiny Alien took this under advisement, and relaxed a tiny bit until he started thinking about the implications of traveling with a driver apparently named Crash.

Will they reach the Pirates safely? Will the Tiny Alien's Vision Quest lead to the Domination of Trick or Treating? What will happen next and what IS the fare for Infinity and Beyond anyway ? Join us next time for the answer to some, but not all of these questions in the next Episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien.

*The management would politely like to remind The Powers-That-Be that there are rules, and the rules are that you shouldn't go messing around with time and space and color photographs and pretty lighting just to show how all powerful and other worldly you are. Since you are the Powers-That-Be, one would think that it would be far classier to find some way to show such powerfulness by doing something respecting the carefully planned out homage to golden age pulp fiction and and classic 1950's sci fi movies instead of just suddenly colorizing and lighting everything. Not of course that there's anything trite or cliche about it. . . . . we, the management would never conclude that you, the Powers-That-Be were either trite or cliche. Maybe you could just consult us next time or , well no, never mind. Please pay no attention to us at all. 

Honestly, we though better of it. 

Really.

Would you like some chocolate?

"The Management"

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 5 - Step 3 . . . Prophet!

When last we left our Tiny Alien  . . . hey wait, No! Hold on you can't do that here . . . .

What's Happened! The world has turned, the community gathered, things are Strange and the apple water has turned to fire, the Jacko's hum. The Oracle, having just bobbed for her apple, steps back suddenly and sings:

"There's no earthly way of seeing 

Which direction causes being 

You can’t see which way you’re going

Or which way the time is flowing 

Is it starlight?  Is it snowing?  Is a sandstorm gently blowing? 

Not a speck of light is showing 

So the danger must be growing 

Is the burning man a glowing? 

Is the grisly reaper hoeing ? 

Yes! 

Dangerous flowers must be growing 

For the pirates keep on rowing 

And the Ninjas, they’re not showing 

Any signs that they are slowing!"

Boo!

The other worldly light encircles them, it is not an Other World the Tiny Alien is familiar with. The Oracle looks deep and thoughtful. She intones the directions for the Tiny Alien's journey in a deep voice full of the mysteries of ages and egg creams. The Tiny Alien shakes in fear and confusion. Then, with the full wrath of siblings everywhere, she turns her glare on her brother.

"Alex, where did you get the water from . . . . " the implied threat hangs visibly in the orange light.

Alex flickeres in and out. "I went to this waterfall I know. Do you want some chocolate?"

What will the Tiny Alien do now? Join us next time for Tales of the Tiny Alien.

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 4 - Community!

When we last left our Tiny Alien, he had joined a society of Green Gentlemen that would have been secret except that they were all really big hearted on the inside so they didn't bother with hiding themselves much. At their recommendation, he had gone to visit the Indie Oracle, but in his excitement had uttered his standard request instead of the secret passcode that would have gotten him a pronouncement. When faced with the choice of Trick or Treat or Else, the Oracle had chosen "Trick". Now there was going to be Trouble of one sort of another since the Oracle insisted that the Tiny Alien meet her brother. . . . 

The Oracle smiled and pointed to the side of the door where her brother leaned. The Tiny Alien immediately sensed all was not nearly as normal as things would appear. Mostly because it was very hard to keep the brother in his view even though the boy in question was not moving. On the other hand, The Oracle herself was impressively THERE. The Tiny Alien very much doubted that a black hole could move her off the spot she was on,  unless she wanted to travel through a wormhole. He quickly ran through his series of Tricks and settled on slow motion. He pointed his ray gun and announced "OK Trick!" and let the slow motion ray wash over them. 

The Oracle seemed to be slowing down, since she was smirking very slowly, but the brother tapped the Tiny Alien on the shoulder.  He had a quizzical look on his face "You sure?" The brother shrugged, and then went to shake his sister's shoulder a little bit and she shook off the effects of the ray gun. That effect should have lasted a full hour! 

The boy looked like he should be hanging out with a garage band somewhere, but other than that there was nothing really different about him compared to all the other local inhabitants, who were admittedly all very different from each other. Just to be sure, the Tiny Alien checked that the boy's feet touched the ground. They did. Hurumph, no answers there. 

The boy disappeared in front of him again. This was very frustrating! The Oracle appeared to be gloating a little bit, "I tried to warn you, you should probably avoid Tricks that involve space, time or gravity when he's here."

"He's not here now," scowled the Tiny Alien. 

"Yes he is he's right to your left. Now that he's gotten older he hardly ever wears orange anymore so we really have to work at finding him when he's infront of us. The most important thing to remember is that he's always where he is supposed to be. And how about you?"

"What?"

"Where are you supposed to be?

"Wherever I want!" stormed the Tiny Alien.

"Oh," stated the brother. "I'll help." And he would have disappeared except the brother seemed to have been missing in the first place.

The Oracle seemed suddenly grumpy.  "I hope you're ready for help. He's very helpful. You don't really need anything dangerous do you? All the definitions get wavy when he helps. He's right off the charts with that you know." 

The Tiny Alien suddenly got a very very cold feeling in his alien approximation of an esophagus. Clarity descended on his flustered brain cells. A deep and overwhelming desire for carbonation and world balance overtook him and he whispered. "Could you please make me, an egg cream like your mother used to make. And then could you tell me what an egg cream is?'

"Oh dear, now you're really in trouble aren't you." The Oracle turned to the fountain array behind her. "Do you want the egg cream with or without the political metaphor?"

"Without please. I think metaphors might cause me indigestion." The Tiny Alien watched as the Oracle started moving things around, pulling out specially shaped triangular paper cups, opening up secret compartments holding brown jars with yellow labels. He didn't hear the rustling behind him. Or the filling of the barrel, or the disruption in the time/space continum so when the brother tapped him on the shoulder he was once again very startled. 

The brother smiled a ninja-fae smile - "These are the Jacko's, they brought some apples. They'll help."

And lo, there were four robed gentlemen, obviously practitioners of the Honorable Arts. Their Orange faces grinning. The tallest of them greeted the Tiny Alien with the ritual phrase: "Wow cool mask. Do you want to bob for apples?" and the smallest said, "It should be mostly safe, we brought the apples, but the Alex found the water. That might be a bit Tricky."

And the Oracle stirred the eggcream and studied the pattern of the chocolate syrup against the edges of the glass, and declared "Well, it seems if you bob for apples, you'll find out where you want to be. Of course that's according to the eggcream and eggcream predictions are more a part of my brother's playground than mine. It looks kind of tricky to me too."

The apples in the barrel were perfect and granny smith green. They were crisp and cool and surrounded by appropriately spooky orange faces, and the brother seemed so perfectly Almost There that for a moment the Tiny Alien thought the time of Trick or Treating had come early to the Land of Tiny Doors. 

He made his way slowly to the head of the barrelbucket . . . . 

Will the Tiny Alien find out where he wants to be? Is bobbing for apples with Jackos dangerous? Where did the Alex get the water from? What's an Alex? The answer to these and other questions in our next episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien . . . 

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 3 - Progress?

When we last left our Tiny Alien he was considering taking roast beast from strangers, after successfully getting something that he could technically quantify as a Treat. Still he was looking to see if the Green Gentleman was actually some sort of Trick. 

Our story continues. . . . . 

The Green Gentleman introduced himself as a member of Who's Who. The Tiny Alien found that he had once declared an all out war on the local holiday currently being celebrated. To hear the gentleman tell it, the sonic effects of the choral singing traditional to the holiday were enhanced by the particular sonic frequencies of one Cynthia Louisa Who, which cured a congenital heart condition by stimulating it's growth. It seems that the Green Gentleman's four chambered heart was a third of the size Green Gentleman are supposed to have. Much like the Tiny Alien, he was pretty cranky at the time, and really had some rather nefarious plans, which seemed a lot like Trick or Treating but without asking. There was of course no Honor in such a course of action. The Green Gentleman agreed, but admitted that he really didn't see it that way until his miracle cure. The Tiny Alien accepted the invitation to come over for some roast beast and try to figure out what to do next. They were joined by another local who was a green amphibian and quiet poetic about it.

As they sat over their beautifully carved roast beast, they spoke to each other for a while about how best to be true to their own natures. The Green Gentleman admitted that it was still in hs nature to run around and startle people with grandiose schemes and then smile disconcertingly and say "Just Kidding." The Amphibian admitted that he was a wee bit t0o pragmatic and perhaps a bit of a perfectionist, so he was always trying to help others get projects underway but sort of freaking out when it got close to deadlines or something interfered with the ability to complete his task. The Tiny Alien admitted that while the Honorable Act of Trick or Treating was important, he was pretty sure that there were other things to do and see. The Amphibian and the Green Gentleman took the opportunity to explain that the holiday being celebrated was a time of brightening up the darker days caused by the planet's rotation around the earth and that locally it was celebrated by singing, food and the exchange of presents.

A brief analysis on the Tiny Alien's part indicated that the primary differences were that Treats were exchanged without Tricks, only some people wore costumes, and that choirs singing "whahoowarry" could cause spontaneous heart expansion. It seemed nice enough and he certainly enjoyed the roast beast, but the Amphibian pointed out that perhaps dedicating one's life to the pursuit of a single holiday wasn't necessarily the best way to pursue that holiday. He suggested a kind of journey to find out where the Tiny Alien belonged. Not that the Tiny Alien didn't belong here of course. There were all kinds of people in the neighborhood. The Green Gentlemen suggested that one of the people in the neighborhood was an Oracle, or an indie record store owner which was just as good. He was fairly sure that she would know how to help the Tiny Alien figure out what to do next. All the Tiny Alien would have to do is go to the corner store and ask her for an egg cream like her mother used to make, then either she or her brother would probably ask all sorts of interesting questions and tell the Tiny Alien all sorts of interesting things. If the things were interesting enough, she might want to meddle and if she wanted to meddle then the Tiny Alien was sure to have all sorts of interesting adventures after that. If nothing else it would at least kill some time for him until it was Time for Trick or Treating in the land of Tiny Doors.

It did seem to be more of a long term plan than the Tiny Alien had on his own. Also the Green Gentleman explained that the upcoming holiday would arrive with or without bells, whistles, packages and bows, so he would be able to partake of the festivities no matter what (he was however warned about the dangers of unexpected heart expansion.)

The three compatriots agreed to meet again and support each other in the experience of being green in a world where most of the inhabitants were not. One for all and all for one; and that sort of mildly plagiarized thing. The Tiny Alien stayed overnight and left to follow the  instructions promptly at lunchtime the next day. He got to the window and saw the Indie Record Store Oracle serving fountain drinks through it. He drew himself up to his full height and prepared to introduce himself, but the force of habit overtook him and he announced "Trick or Treat, or Else!" instead.

He would have been mortified if he were built that way, but he wasn't, so he was belligerent instead. Having once committed to the act, he threw the full force of his action behind it. The Indie Oracle however smiled a quirky little smile and said "Well if you're going to be that way about it, we'll have to go with Trick, but first let me introduce you to my little brother."

The Tiny Alien suddenly felt a tiny bit apprehensive, the brother looked normal enough but there seemed to be a small problem with the laws of physics in his general vicinity . . . . .

What has the Tiny Alien gotten himself into? Is the Oracle setting him up? What is an eggcream anyway? Was it cosmically significant? The answer to these and other questions will be in the next episode of  Tales of The Tiny Alien . . . .

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 2

When last we left our Tiny Alien, he had travelled through much in order to Dominate Trick or Treating in a Land of Tiny Doors. After calling out the hallowed phrase "Trick or Treat or Else!" a flustered inhabitant offered to find him some "Else". Our story continues . . . .

"Else" apparently ended up being Hot Cocoa, a strange brown drink that did not seem much like a trick and wasn't practical to put in a bag so it most likely wouldn't count as a treat. The Tiny Alien agreed with the inhabitant that this qualified as "Else" and lowered his ray gun to ask what he should do with it. The inhabitant suggested they indulge in the local custom of "hanging out on the stoop". This apparently involved sitting on the steps watching locals go by and discussing life. The inhabitant admitted that drinking Cocoa while doing this was a personal twist of his own.

The first cup of Cocoa was sipped in silence. Apparently the inhabitant had servants or tribesmen behind the door because someone came out who took the empty cups and replaced them with new full cups. These cups had marshmallows floating in them which made the Tiny Alien feel better since it is well known that marshmallows were involved in Treats. As the first cup was slowly sipped the Tiny Alien watched the locals go by. They were green, purple, pinky beige, blue, the same color as the cocoa, jet black and shiny, fuzzy, fluffy, smooth and bumpy, frankly he'd seen cantina's with less variety. It was also very busy, but no one was Trick or Treating.

"What are they all doing?" The Tiny Alien muttered to no one in particular.

"Well, mostly they are going to and from their homes." The inhabitant rearranged his robes, so that there was a little extra padding to sit on. The Tiny Alien stared intently at the inhabitant.

The Tiny Alien took terrible offense. "I have no intention of going anywhere called Home!" started brandishing his ray gun in order to underscore the point. He was very careful not to spill the Cocoa though, because it would be a terrible waste of marshmallows.

"I'm terribly sorry." The inhabitant moved his Cocoa out of the way of the ray gun placing it on the long flat bannisterish part of the stoop.

"OK then," grumped the Tiny Alien, settling back on the steps. He explained that as tiny, Tiny Alien, he was constantly being told how wonderful it was to find one's place in the universe and settle down and become a productive member of society. He then went on to explain how such speeches gave him a great deal of indigestion since they always seemed to be to the benefit of beings who stayed in one place and didn't have much to offer for beings who wanted to See New Things.

The inhabitant admitted that his job had him frequently Seeing New Things and Meeting Interesting People, but it was nice to be able to have a place to keep one's paperwork. This was how the Tiny Alien discovered that almost everyone he was seeing was from Someplace Else. And very quietly inside the Tiny Alien something clicked into place. The something was a bit like the opposite of homesickness and not quite the same as wanderlust. The inhabitant, while obviously not a native, had found a sort of portable Home Base. That was not what the Tiny Alien wanted but he knew he wanted something . He also knew that whatever it was that he wanted it was certainly NOT to go Home. He pressed his host for more Trick or Treating information.

The inhabitant explained that they were in the middle of a holiday where people give gifts and he could try knocking on doors to see if that worked. After all it had scored him his third cup of Cocoa and more marshmallows, so the strategy while not perfect, was proven. A little more conversation proved out that Trick or Treating did indeed happen in the neighborhood but it was next scheduled for ten months. The Tiny Alien became very cranky indeed and grabbed his bag tightly and watched the blinking lights on his ray gun with great intensity.

The inhabitant mentioned that a gentleman who had experienced a great deal of spiritual growth was the expert to consult about local holidays. He provided the Tiny Alien with a slip of paper he called an "Address" and showed him the direction of an alley full of perfectly proper doors where this "Address" was before disappearing behind his own door. Unfortunately, the Tiny Alien never learned the numeric system for the local language and had to knock on numerous doors asking "Is the green gentleman with the dog home?" instead of "Trick or Treat". On the bright side all of the doors had beings behind them. On the dark side, he had forgotten the green gentleman's name. He kept getting distracted by the possible Trick or Treating potential. Thus, when tapped on the shoulder he was unprepared and startled.

He whipped his ray gun around and growled a bit, turning to face a being of the bipedal, green and fuzzy variety, grinning from ear to tiny ear. "Excuse me," the being scoffed, "I believe that you are looking for me, and I assure you, that I am equally agressive when startled, but these are kindler gentler times my friend, and I would like to invite you to join me while I carve some roast beast . . ." The fuzzy green being wiggled predatory eyebrows at the Tiny Alien, grinning a slightly twisted grin. "Surely you trust me . . . ."

Does the Tiny Alien trust him? Does carved roast beast count as a Treat? What is the something that clicked and is it dangerous? The answer to these and other questions may show up in out next Episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien . . . .