Current Events > Better than Alien Covenant: a strangely erotic fanfiction

(+) Yeah! (+)

The air was moist, uncomfortably moist. It was also musky, pungent with the strident, aggressively masculine scents of the Engineer. Dribbles of rain ran down his magnificently sculpted, impressively callipygian and alabaster-skinned self like a wet caress. He was standing stark bollocks naked at the edge of a waterfall because that was what one does, when one is a big boi.

Hurrrrrh, he announced to the world in general. He was alone, but only as alone as a truly handsome and prodigiously endowed alien could be, for he carried the love and adoration of billions with him wherever he wandered. This was Engineer speak for: Aha! Now I have arrived on earth in my giant, half eaten pretzel it is time to execute my fiendishly sexy plan!

He shrugged the rivulets of water from his gloriously muscled shoulders in a spray of now-homeopathically sexy water droplets and wandered back to his giant half-eaten pretzel to grab a towel.
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After a quick shower to remove the crushed grass and dirt from his delectably toned calves and feet, the Engineer towelled himself dry. He was methodical, making sure that every crevice and cranny was thoroughly dry.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and padded into the navigation room. There he fiddled about with various knobs and buttons until a holographic display popped up showing the location of the macguffin he would need for his sexy plan to work.

The holographic display was blue, of course.

There. He zoomed in, then zoomed in some more until the holographic display was dominated by an almost organic seeming view of a city.

Lung dung he murmured, rolling the human (and so quite alien to him) phonemes around on his tongue. Not the worst thing to have ever passed his lips, to be sure, but strange for all that.

The Engineer would need a disguise.
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The Engineer went to his fancy dress wardrobe. It was quite capacious, since every decent space ship should contain sufficient materials to hold small-scale amateur dramatic productions or burlesque revues.

The Engineers home planet had for a number of decades received transmissions from Earth, courtesy of a satellite in orbit around the humans pale blue dot cunningly disguised as a freeze-dried cosmonaut. So, the Engineers as a species were well versed in the culture of the Earth. Or, at least, those elements of the Earths culture that had been broadcast and syndicated. Thus it was that the Engineer came to dress a cast member from Jersey Shore.
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He parked his giant half-eaten pretzel in the middle of a small patch of woodland and grass within the urban sprawl city like a chloroplast within a photosynthetic protist.

The engineer was worried that he would be horrendously conspicuous. Thankfully, it seemed that nobody wanted to even look at a person slathered from head to toe in enough fake tan to make one resemble a roast chicken; distressed jeans complete with artful rips, stencilling, embroidery and a smattering of studs; and a salmon polo shirt with the collar popped. Not to mention the wig with frosted tips. Never mention the frosted tips.
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leverageblargh posted...

Who's gonna narrate the inevitable audiobook?

Nancy Pelosi.

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A miserable pile of speakers
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The Engineer wandered through the city. Utterly lost in the maze of streets and seething crowds. It was sensory overload. Sounds, sights and smells brutally misused his sensory organs and left them aching and sore. Being London, it started to rain. A dirty, oily rain that made his hastily applied fake tan run in filthy rivulets down his face. It stung his eyes. He doubted he could find his way back to his ship.

He was miserable, and began to sniffle.
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I fully endorse this topic.

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The Engineer was sobbing. It could have been spaceship-lag, or maybe he was overly hormonal, but he was nonetheless crying. Huge, racking sobs that started somewhere around his abdomen and forced their way mouthwards. Before he knew it, his body had of its own volition collapsed onto a doorstep (mercifully free of vomit). At which point, he began bawling like a baby. Passers-by, intimidated by his size, his salmon pink polo shirt with the collar popped and his wig with its frosted tips steadfastly ignored him. Once again, functionally invisible, just for a different reason.

His miserable funk was interrupted as something cut across the sound of the incessant traffic, both motorised and pedestrian. It was someone ranting, raving and generally carrying on.

Show them! The voice yelled. Damn right Ill show them.

Through his veil of tears, the engineer could see someone charging up the street, arms flailing as they ranted. Like they were tilting at the windmill of their self. The Engineer couldnt help but stare.

The wildly gesticulating madman noticed.

You! He yowled. You can see me!

Hurh, the Engineer replied, between sobs.

Ha! The madman screamed. They say Im not here, but Im here. Im totally here. Youre my proof!

Hurh, the Engineer agreed. In his confusion, he had forgotten he was upset.

Hot damn! I cant wait to post about this!

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