Rock n Roll Babes from Outer Space Read Free Page B

murder and mayhem and advertisements for slimming salons—they’re not exactly signs of higher intelligence. Don’t take it personally. It’s not like you don’t have potential. And anyway, it’s clear you’ve got
something
going for you, or no one could be stuffed making the trip here in the first place. As I was saying earlier, it’s no beatnik. Sorry? Picnic? Damn chip.
    Where was I? That’s right. And you did invent rock n roll. I
love
rock music. Did I say that already?
    Live wild on the edge or die bored in the middle, that’s what I say. The surf’s never up in the great mainstream. They try and tell you otherwise on Nufon. They’re so clueless they wouldn’t know if a shuttle was up them till the astronaut emerged for a spacewalk. They’re as captive to innate Nufonian blandness as they are trapped for life in those wretched bodies. We’re lucky. We’re AC/DC. No, not like the band. Like this. I’m really getting the hang of shapeshifting now. See? Now I’m an alien. Now I’m an Earth girl. Now I’m an alien. Now I’m an Earth girl. We call shapeshifting into Earth girl form ‘slipping into something more comfortable’. Fun, isn’t it? What’s the matter? Something wrong? Why are you on the floor?
    Speaking of shapeshifters, here are the others. This grrrl here is Doll. Doll Parts. And that’s Lati. Lati Dohdidohdoh. Where
were
you two?
    Sorry. Looks like we’re scaring you. Why don’t you just sit down over there, next to Doll. It’s okay. She won’t bite. Not till she gets to know you better, anyway. Ha ha. Just kidding. Sort of. Hope you’re all right. You’re looking a bit pale, you know. Never mind. Sit next to me, then.
    What’s your name, Earth boy? Jake? You’re very cute, you know. Very sexy. I bet you know it too. What’s that on your head? It looks like the wrong end of a sheep. So
that’s
what you call dreadlocks? Hmmm. Very sweet. No, I do like them. Really, I do.
    Jake. Nice name.
    All that stuff about the abductions, the sexual experimentation on Earthlings that produced us and so on is supposed to be fully hush-hush. Oh, I know you’re not going to tell anyone. As if I really cared. Thing is, the experiments weren’t exactly considered a raging success. From the Nufonian standpoint, we’re too Earthish. As we see it, we’re not Earthish enough. Anyway, officially, we don’t even exist. When we’re on Nufon we’re expected to act like everyone else, and we’re not supposed to attempt to shapeshift into Earth girl form or talk about our origins. They get really fucked off with us when we disobey, which is, like, every chance we get. The authorities up there would be shitting bricks if they knew we were sitting here yakking on about all this to you down here. Actually they’d be shitting bricks if they knew we were here full stop. No, I stand corrected. They wouldn’t be shitting bricks because THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE ARSE-HOLES. Fucken anal retentives, the lot of them.
    But no, you don’t want to hear my theories on Nufonians.
    Maybe you’d like to tell us a bit about yourself.
    No? Oioi got your tongue? Ha. Maybe later. But if you’re not gonna talk, then we’ll go about our business. First, however, I’d like to say, on behalf of all of us, how delighted we are to have you here with us on Galgal, rarara. We went to the gig not really knowing what to expect. It was the first time we’d ever heard rock n roll live. Oh, man. I love saying that here—‘oh, man’. It just doesn’t have the same ring when you’re talking to an ayle. Know what I mean? It was so totally grouse. That steaming mash of Earthling bodies, smelling of animal passion and sex. The pounding of the music. The screaming. The excellent t-shirts. The mad energy billowing off the stage and through the mosh. Then I saw you. Climbing up on stage and diving off it into the crowd, and doing it again and again. I looked at you and knew in an instant that you were everything I’ve always