"Go ahead, Ted. Do it."
Ted Wilson stood looking down at the basket of fruit at the counter of the Gulp'n Go. He didn't particularly like fruit. And most of it in the basket looked like it was about three days too old. The bananas especially looked as though they had been resigned to showing up in a bread recipe about 48 hours ago. Really, all he'd come in for was the candy bar.
But as much as he was disinterested in the fruit, he was more interested in annoying the Blaarg. The Blaarg behind him was making that "trilling" sound they all made. It was waiting its turn, but it really seemed like it wanted the fruit. Ted hated Blaargs. Was it hate? No maybe not hate, he just didn't trust them. Ever since they showed up in those goldish silvery tube things promising peace and prosperity to the people of Earth, he'd just never had a really productive or satisfying day. This is peace? Nothing has ever fit the same--these alternative-fabric-renewable-cotton-what-the-heck-whatevers that they call clothing now . . . Margot says it's in his mind but they itch, and all the fasteners are in the wrong places!
The little voice in his head spoke again: "So just Do it, Ted. Go on."
The girl behind the counter was a little impatient: "Just the candy? Is this all for you?"
Ted decided to go for it.
"No, I'd like the fruit, please."
"Which ones?"
"All of them."
The Blaarg behind him made a sound like a cat with a bag over its head having its tail squeezed. He was right. It wanted the fruit. Somehow, knowing a Blaarg would be disappointed in this way made Ted Wilson feel extremely satisfied. He was tired of caring what they thought and when he got home he would tell Margot exactly that.
Ted paid for his fruit and his candy bar and left the Gulp'n Go. Outside, his motorcade was waiting. As was Bob, who was ALWAYS waiting and watching.
"Did you find what you needed, Mr. President?"
"And more, Bob. Thanks for the detour. Sorry for the delay--ggaahh.."
President Wilson's final words were choked in his throat by the Blaarg, a bulbous, tentacled species who communicate through a series of whoopee-cushion-like muscle contractions. This one no longer felt like talking.
The Blaarg fleet was also about 17 1/2 times larger than they claimed when they arrived. With much more advanced weapon systems than originally thought. The people of Earth would spend the next 27 years dealing with these revelations, until an alliance with the Gruuun finally ended the Blaarg War.
The Gruuun did not eat fruit.
