At five o'clock in the afternoon Fred felt fucked. He had been sent here by High Command to conquer this miserable little planet and all he could do at the moment was feel fucked. He rolled over on the ground where he had been lying for most of the afternoon, groaned as a splitting pain shot through his body, held his head in his hands and began cursing in a steady vindictive flow of Yrrlian cuss words. I think I should explain that Fred was not his real name, he was not human and he had just experienced his first bestial sexual encounter. The beast in question was about twenty-three, stood at approximately 5' 4", had large, firm breasts guaranteed to give any man a wet dream and all the equipment that any guy would die for. Why, I hear you ask, does an alien from another planet who has to be more advanced than the human race find himself in the situation he was. It's a sad and sorry tale.
When Fred had first arrived he had bounded down the ramp from his spaceship, looking sharply around for any sign of the enemy. As he had landed in the middle of the main car park, (squashing two dozens automobiles and a coke machine during his rather erratic landing) of the largest shopping mall for two hundred miles in any direction, finding the enemy was not the problem. Getting them to stand still was. Fred, who was fairly new at this game, (in fact there had been a lengthy discussion by the High Command on whether he was fit for this type of work at all) had pulled himself up to his magnificent height of 4 feet and had shouted, using his best, and newly acquired command voice, "Stop! Stand still! Uhh," he tried to remember the right words. They came to him in a flash. "Freeze you bastards or you're gonna make my day!" He felt quite satisfied with that. He had a good voice at the best of times, or so his pod mother thought, and he had practised long and hard to get it just right.
The trouble was these stupid savages weren't paying any attention. Fred scratched his arse thoughtfully and decided to use his weapon. Now Fred called it a weapon and most things whose last conscious sight, before they were transformed into slavish zombies, and had been looking down the business end of it would have called it a weapon. But it wasn't a weapon in the true sense of the word. Instead of blowing away it sucked things in. The purpose being to give alien life forms the pleasure of knowing that they were now enslaved by the Galaxy wide master race of Yrrlians. In Fred's universe killing was unheard of, and if it had been it wouldn't have been used in conquering the Galaxy. Why, where would all the millions of slaves come from to run the place if nobody was around anymore?
So in his usual professional manner Fred began to set up the weapon. Now again I should explain that this piece of apparatus was not what anybody would call easily portable. It took Fred several trips back to the space ship, pulling and pushing crates (although they weren't crates as we know the word). Up from the storage area, along one of the longest corridors on the ship, out of the door, down the ramp to pile up around the bottom of his only means of access back into the ship (Fred had a habit of painting himself into corners).
By the time he had completed the task he was knackered and he plonked himself on the ground with his scaly back resting against the mini-mountain he had created. He went to get something cold to drink (for it was a fearful hot day) when he suddenly remembered he had left his provision pouch inside the ship when he was making his final trip.
"Unnghhhhnhcch", which roughly translates into "Oh fucking hell", he said, and with that he just sat there, unable to move.
"Wheeeee!". That was the sound of the beast. She came bounding, and bouncing I hasten to add, between the cars that were left after everyone had disappeared in such a hurry, and approached Fred with a big grin, a big wave of her hand and a big "Hello!"