Hank was just sitting at his computer, browsing the latests Facebook entries, when his IM went off. It was Gzinu, a being who claimed to be from a starship cruising the nearby solar systems. It was about six months ago, Hank was cruising the bars and met a guy who was into science fiction as much as he was. He was an ordinary looking guy, much like Hank, slightly above average height and weight, about 20 years younger than Hank's 46, sandy colored hair and blue eyes. After belting back a few drinks, Hank alternating between Dos Equiis and Blue Agave Tequila shots, and his friend switching between Sprite and straight Grenadine, Hank was offered a ride around the block. The next moment, he was looking down on North America from space, a strange three foot tall blue creature beside him. Gzinu flew a single pilot ship, charged with sailing in from a mother ship to check out different planetary systems alone. Hank awakened the next morning with an astounding hangover, a moon rock, and an IM address which kept him in touch with the alien.
HEY, HANK. HOW'S IT HANGIN' was the first message
NOT BAD, YOU?
NOT BAD, BUT THE COMMANDER WON'T LET US TAKE A BREAK FOR 3 WEEKS
HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS
GOT A HEADS UP FOR YOU
YEAH?
YEAH. A GAMMA RAY BURST, COMING YOUR WAY. GETS TO YOUR PLANET IN 8 DAYS.
Hank thought for a few moments and looked up "Gamma Ray Bursts" on Wikipedia. SO WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?
The reply was slow in coming: LOOK, DON'T TELL MY COMMANDER I TOLD YOU THIS, BUT IT WILL BURN OFF YOUR OZONE LAYER, POISON THE WATER, AND BRING ABOUT THE EXTINCTION OF ABOUT 75% OF THE SPECIES ON YOUR PLANET. INCLUDING YOURS.
Hank looked out the window of his third floor apartment in Topeka. Night was settling in on a long summer's day, and the sound of teens running up and down the streets could be heard in a time of low gas prices. SO YOU'RE SAYING I NEED TO GET READY TO MEET MY MAKER.
YEAH, came the reply after a few moments. AND ANYBODY ELSE YOU WANT TO GET ACQUATINED WITH BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD.
Scratching his testicles, he thought for a moment. ANY CHANCE OF A RIDE OUT OF HERE?
WOULD LOVE TO HELP YOU, BUT MY ASS WOULD BE GRASS. WE AREN'T SUPPOSED TO INTERFERE.
SURELY THERE'S ROOM FOR A COUPLE MORE PEOPLE ON YOUR SHIP. LIKE ME AND KATE WINSLET MAYBE, OR ISABELLA ROSSILINI. . .
LOOK, ISABELLA'S TOO OLD FOR YOU AND YOU WOULD FREAK KATE OUT. LOOK, THINK ABOUT THE THINGS YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO DO AND GO DO THEM AS FAST AS YOU CAN. THANKS FOR THE NIGHT AT THE BAR, THE UNIVERSE WON'T BE THE SAME WITHOUT SPRITE. GOTTA RUN, BYE.
Hank shut down his IM and sat back in his underwear. The world would end in eight days. Cruising a bar in hopes of finding another alien seemed like a longshot, as would stealing a shuttle from NASA. He realized that all his usual drinking buddies were people he never wanted to see again, as all the women he'd ever dated. The email chimed and he opened it:
"Hank
Got your last note, you are so damn funny. Loved your last story on Lit., please write another one soon. You make me so hot.
love,
Mary"
Hank had pounded out a few tales of his favorite wet dreams and few extended sexual exploits for a website. A few people wrote to tell how much they enjoyed his stories; Mary sent him several explicit emails describing her admiration of his work and how she wished they would happen to her. She'd only sent one picture, but she was an attractive woman close to his age, blond and beautiful. An inspiration hit him:
"Mary
Thanks for the love. I'm heading your direction, will be there in three days, two if the lights are right. The world's about to end and I need to fuck you. Will write en route.
Hank"
He threw some clean clothes into a bag with some basic toiletries, and ran out the door, taking his laptop, iPhone, credit cards and favorite music, leaving the front door open and starting the call less than 5 minutes after sending the e-mail.
A quick stop at a convenience store secured a supply of stimulants and food, and he was on his way.
As he drove he thought: I don't have to care about how much I spend, the credit cards will never come due. When I get to D.C. it'll be a five star hotel and room service. His iPhone dinged and he checked his email: