The Day That Aliens (Nearly) Ate Our Brains Page 2
Suddenly there was a huge
“What on earth was that?” Freddy yelled, rushing to the window.
Sal, Freddy and Sergeant West ran out into the road. There, in the middle of the street, lay a steaming pile of solar panels and electric wires.
“Don’t go near it!” Sergeant West warned.
“It’s a satellite. It’s only a blooming satellite,” Freddy said, looking up.
“It could be a coincidence…?” Sergeant West said, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Freddy looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He had a talent for raising an eyebrow but rarely got to do it, and this felt like the perfect situation for eyebrow raising. “Well it could be!” protested Sal’s uncle.
“Whatever this is, it’s from outer space,” Sal said, pointing. “Look…”
On the side of the satellite was a big American flag and the words:
PROPERTY OF NASA. IF FOUND CALL THIS TOLL-FREE NUMBER:
021304531298754312
“Well at least we’ve got a phone number for them now.” Freddy smiled, writing it down quickly.
“Quick! Inside before anything else lands on our heads,” Sal said. All three hurtled back into the station. Sergeant West grabbed the TV.
“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?”
he screamed at the screen. There, calmly doing his nails – all three of them – was Alan.
“YOU SILLY NOGGIN MAN. YOU ASKED ME TO PROVE A PROOF TO YOU, SO I DID. NOW YOU ARE LAUGHING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF YOUR MANY FACES. I NEED TO BE DOING THE NAPPING BEFORE THE INVADING OTHERWISE I’LL BE GRUMPY. I WILL SOON HAVE THE RECIPE FOR THE PUDDING RICE WHEN I NIBBLE ON YOUR BRAINS.”
And with that he was gone again.
“OH WELL FINE, WE WOULDN’T WANT YOU TO BE IN A BAD MOOD WHEN YOU KILL US ALL!”
Sal yelled sarcastically.
At that very second the office phone rang. Sergeant West picked it up. On the other end of the line was what sounded like a very angry man. “Yes I know Captain McGill, we heard the crash too. A satellite’s gone down. How do I know?” Sergeant West looked at Freddy and Sal. “I think it’s best if you sit down, Captain.”
Five minutes later Captain Phil McGill was at the police station. He was a gruff-looking fellow, with thick arms and a neck that flopped over the collar of his tight shirt. He had tiny angry eyes and he smelt of coffee and dusty rooms.
“Now what’s all this about an alien invasion? Have you been on the Stilton again, West?”
“No, it’s true!” Sergeant West said, “I was sceptical too when my nephew and his mate burst in here, but then this creature appeared on TV and said he was going to shoot down a satellite. And then, well, he did.”
“First things first, I don’t believe in little green men; second of all, I don’t care if it was Lady Gaga who shot the satellite down – I want this person arrested. It must have been a navigation satellite, because I have just seen a lorry carrying underpants spill its load onto the road. The imbecilic driver was clearly trying to fix his Sat-Nav rather than look where he was going. I had to swerve to avoid all the pants. No one’s going to want pants with my skid marks on are they?”
“BHAHAHA!” Sal laughed.
“OH, GROW UP!”
the Captain bellowed back.
“Sorry,” Sal muttered.
“Right, now what are we going to do about this satellite?”
“Well, I have an idea,” Freddy said. “Let’s call NASA.”
“Yes, hello, is that NASA? My name’s Captain McGill. We’ve got one of your satellites lying here; an eye witness informs me that it’s been shot down by an alien. You’re putting me through to your supervisor? Yes, well I thought you might … oh yes, hello. Yes that’s what I said. Aliens, yes. Yes, we’ve made contact, well I haven’t, a young man has. I’ll pass you over.”
Freddy held the phone to his ear. “I’m putting you on speaker-phone,” the voice told Freddy. “Now tell them what the Captain just told me, kid.”
“Hello, can you hear me?” Freddy asked nervously.
In a huge room, far away in America, the air hung heavy with heat. This was Mission Control, where they launched rockets. Real space rockets that actually went into space. The room was filled with technicians, astronomers and scientists of every kind. They were all listening silently. A man in spectacles took them off and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“We can hear you kid, go ahead. My name’s Jim, I’m the director of NASA.”
“Okay, well it all started when we were trying to watch the wrestling.”
“Well it’s Wrestlegeddon Smack Down, I don’t blame you,” Jim agreed.
“Yeah, well, we couldn’t get the feed on our TV, so I hooked up a satellite thingy I’d made out of some tin foil and used a basic TV output unit to double the strength of it. I guess pointing it at next door’s satellite doubled the strength again, and because that one was pointing into space eventually all the satellites must have magnified the signal or something…”
“Meaning that the satellites all linked together to act like a giant antenna, shooting a signal into deep space…”
“Exactly!” Freddy said enthusiastically.
“Smart kid.”
“Before I knew it, there he was. He calls himself Alan, from the planet Twang. He said they’ve been watching our TV signals as they drifted into space, but they didn’t know where we were. It was only when I sent up a signal, unintentionally, that they found our planet. Alan said they want to take over our world and learn from us, but the only way to do that is by eating our brains.”
“Oh my,” Jim said.
“Yes, I know, I’m sorry. He says his planet is full of warriors and that there’s only room for one planet like that in the universe. I think that’s what they do, they fly from planet to planet killing everyone in their wake!” Freddy said, exasperated. “You have to believe me.”
“Oh, I believe you kid. Whatever took down that satellite wasn’t from earth. We also tracked some kind of spaceship from deep space. We didn’t have time to hook onto it though; it’s travelling too fast. Tell me, Freddy, what’s he like, the one called Alan? Is he intelligent?”
“Hmm, depends what you mean by intelligent,” Freddy said, scratching his head. “He’s sort of clever, in an annoying-little-brother sort of way. You know, if your little brother spoke weirdly and was obsessed with rice pudding. He said we’ve got until 10 p.m. tonight.”
The words hung in the air for all to hear.
“I think we need to get the President involved. Will you hold the line, Freddy?” Jim asked.
Freddy looked at the others. There was silence, you could hear a pin drop … although technically no one can hear a pin drop; you can hear one land, but that’s beside the point. What is the point is that it was very quiet.
Then the phone line crackled back into life. “The President’s in a meeting in Paris, give me a moment,” Jim said.
“SMILE!” Sal suddenly shouted, pulling out his phone. “Extreme selfie time!”
“What are you doing?” Freddy barked.
“I was bored, what’s happening?” Sal nudged Freddy in the ribs.
Freddy put his palm over the receiver.
“They’ve gone to get the President.” he mouthed to the others.
“Oh…” said Sal. “The President of what?”
“OF AMERICA!”
Freddy, Sergeant West and Captain McGill yelled back.
“All right, all right – that’s what I thought. I was just checking. You know, it might have been a different one. The American President lives in that house … oh, what’s it called … you know, the really white one?”
“THE WHITE HOUSE!”
everyone shouted out once again.
“No need to yell, I’m feeling very got at. I’ve had a rough day, my head still hurts from being a human satellite dish and falling off that chair you know.”
“What?!” Sal’s uncle snapped.
“Err … nothing
that’s important,” Freddy said, trying to change the subject. “Shouldn’t we be doing something? They’re calling the President. Shouldn’t we get in touch with, I dunno, the authorities or the prime minister, someone who’s got the power and menace to stop this sort of thing?”
“You mean, Hilda the lollipop lady?” Sergeant West piped up.
“Or like a General in the army or something?” Freddy suggested.
“I’ll make a call,” the Captain said.
“I still think Hilda would be better,” Sal’s uncle sniffed.
“Freddy, you still there?” came Jim’s voice from down the phone.
“Yes, YES, I’m here.”
“I’ve got the President on the line. You ready?”
“Yes, I’m ready.” Freddy gulped.
There was a pause, a crackle, then a booming voice came down the phone line. “FREDDY, IS THIS RIGHT, AM I TALKING TO FREDDY?”
“Yes, Madam President. Do I call you Madam President? It does seem a bit weird, I mean you’re not French, are you? I know you’re in France, but that doesn’t make you French, but Lady President sounds weird, as does Mrs President. You know what, I should probably shut up and let you talk, I’m just a little nervous and babbling, and yet here I am still talking, it’s like I can’t stop, please someone stop me!” Freddy said desperately.
“It’s okay, Freddy,” the President responded. “You can call me Frances if you like, it doesn’t matter. What I’d like to say first of all, is that you’ve been very brave and from what I hear, very clever too. You are the first ever human to make contact with another life form. We now have the answer to the question that has troubled mankind since the dawn of time … are we alone? I just wish it was under better circumstances, that’s all. It looks like these individuals are not friendly. They intend to do us harm. Freddy, here’s what I need you to do. I want you to go home, wait for—” there was a pause as Freddy heard the President ask Jim something— “seriously, he’s called Alan? Okay, Freddy, I want you to go home and wait for this Alan to contact you again.”
“Yes, Lady President, Madam Frances, President, Sir … woman. Yes.” Freddy’s head slumped into his shoulders in embarrassment.
“Thank you, Freddy,” the President chuckled. “I had no idea I had so many names. I need to ask one more thing of you before you go. This is very important. Please do not tell anyone about this. The last thing we want to do is spread panic. So keep the news to yourself and those who are in the room. We will be at your house as soon as we can.”
“Yes, Mrs President. Goodbye.” Freddy hung up the phone. “Brilliant, now she thinks I’m an idiot,” he said, shaking his head.
“Nonsense, you’re the person who discovered aliens. You’ll go down in history!” Sal looked at his watch. “Well, for the next six hours, until every human on earth gets their brains eaten, but you know, beggars can’t be choosers – send!”
There was a
sound as Sal pressed his thumb on the phone.
“Right, here’s what we have to do,” Freddy began. “We have to go back to mine and wait for Alan to make contact again. The President—”
“Is that Mrs Madam Lady Frances President Woman?” Sergeant West chuckled.
“Yeah, okay, okay! The President said – and this is very important—” suddenly, Freddy stopped talking. He turned slowly to Sal. “What did you just say?” Freddy asked, his eyes narrowing. “You said ‘send’. There was a whoosh sound.”
“Oh, yeah, that was just an extreme selfie I posted online. Got to keep the followers happy.” Sal smiled.
“What, what did he say?” Captain McGill barked, looking confused. “None of those words made any sense to me!”
“Please tell me you didn’t tell anyone about this?” Freddy asked, panic in his eyes. Sal handed Freddy the phone. Freddy read out what Sal had written.
We’ve just discovered life on another planet!
#extremeselfie #aliensfromoutofspace #theendoftheworld #Wolverhampton #Freddyshouse #eatmybigbrain…
Freddy put his head in his hands. “She just told me not to tell anyone!”
“WHAT THE RUDDY NORA IS A HASHTAG? WHY IS NO ONE SPEAKING ENGLISH ANY MORE?” the captain bellowed.
“I’ll delete it!” Sal said, grabbing the phone. “Oh dear…”
“WHAT … WHAT?!”
Freddy cried.
“Out of battery.”
“We’ll have to sort it out later. We need to get back to mine – the President is on her way.”
“It’ll be fine.” Sal said. “I’ve only got three followers: my nan, my cousin in Manchester and the local takeaway.”
“What? The cousin that’s been on TV, the famous one?” Freddy asked, looking worried.
“Oh, oops…” Sal laughed nervously.
Freddy, Sal, Sergeant West and Captain McGill dashed out of the police station and squeezed past the still-smoking satellite that lay on the road. Just at that second a truck crashed into a tree on the other side of the road.
“Sergeant West, get on the radio and put out a message to tell people to stop trying to fix their Sat-Navs and start looking where they’re going. Someone’s going to get killed!” McGill snapped.
“Yes, Captain!” Sergeant West replied, grabbing his radio.
“LOOK, THE TRUCK!” Sal shouted. “IT WAS CARRYING DOUGHNUTS.”
Everyone turned round. Sure enough, there were doughnuts lying all over the floor.
“The driver’s fine,” Freddy added, as he watched the driver get out of the cab, looking rather annoyed that he’d just ruined his delivery.
“Doughnuts … my favourite, just lying there,” Sal said.
“Sal, we have to go, we have orders from the President,” Freddy said, looking at his watch.
Just then, an ice cream van came round the corner and bashed into the doughnut truck. There were now warm doughnuts and ice cream everywhere.
Sal whimpered. “Ice cream toooooo! Literally all my favourites.”
“Sal, we have to go! We don’t have time for doughnuts and ice cream!” Freddy cried.
Just then a lorry full of spoons came careering into the back of both trucks.
“OH COME ON!”
Sal yelled. Captain McGill grabbed Sal and ushered him down the road towards Freddy’s place.
“But the doughnuts…”
“But the end of the world!” McGill yelled back.
“This is so confusing. I want to save the world, but I don’t think you know how much I really like doughnuts and ice cream,” Sal kept whining as he was dragged round the corner and the doughnuts and ice cream disappeared from view.
Back at the house, after avoiding the many crashed cars that were littered along the way, Freddy found his keys and opened the door. All of them dashed upstairs to his room and burst in.
“Right!” Freddy yelled, taking control of the situation. “Nobody touch the satellite dish—”
Sal coughed.
“Okay … nobody touch the cone covered in tin foil that the dog had when he had his bits done. That’s how we picked up the signal. If we move it, we might not hear from Alan again. Sergeant West, could you be in charge of making sure no one touches it? Who knows when they’ll get in contact again. Perhaps Alan’s already tried.”
“There’s only one way to find out!” Sal yelled, heading over to the fish bowl.
“NO, SAL, PLEASE NO!” Freddy called out.
“Perkins, has anyone from another planet been in touch on the magic light box we call the TV?” Sal said, puffing out his cheeks like a fish and getting as close to the bowl as he possibly could without getting in and having a swim.
“West, what’s the matter with your nephew? He appears to be talking to a fish.”
“It’s okay, Captain, he just thinks this fish can talk that’s all,” Freddy tried to explain.
Sergeant West just looked embarrassed and shrugged his shoulders. “Kids, they can be so creative!” he chuckled.
“That�
�s not creative, that’s just weird, West,” Captain McGill barked in his no-nonsense way. “You have a weird nephew, West.”
“So creative…” Sergeant West muttered under his breath, ignoring the Captain.
“Everyone, we’re getting distracted,” Freddy said. “Sal, once again. Fish. Cannot. Talk. Can we stay focused? We only have a few hours to save the planet. We need to work as a team.”
“He’s right,” Captain McGill agreed.
Just then, the room began to shake. Books shifted on their shelves and the light fitting rattled. There was a distant roar that began to build.
“This is it; this is the end of the world!” Sal put his hands over his ears. Everyone fell to their knees as dust from the wall cascaded down. Freddy grimaced and looked at his watch again.
“WAIT, IT’S TOO EARLY!” he yelled, but no one could hear him. Suddenly, Freddy recognized the sound. It wasn’t the end of the world at all. He struggled up and looked out of the window. He smiled with relief. “It’s all right,” he said to the others, “it’s just a helicopter!”
But his jaw dropped as he looked out onto the front lawn at the huge green and white helicopter, which said in bold letters:
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
The doors of the helicopter swung open, then a couple of burly men in dark glasses jumped out. They took a quick look around before a small woman headed out. They all ran towards the front door.
“The President’s here – that was her helicopter!” Freddy shouted. Slowly but surely everyone got to their feet and dusted themselves off.
“I wasn’t scared…” Sal said, wiping his brow.
“I WAS. I NEARLY FILLED MY PANTS!” Captain McGill yelled. “That cheese and onion pasty I had for lunch nearly shot out of my bottom. Open a window, Sal.”