Intergalactic Terrorist (New Dimension Book 1) Read online

  The pig alien was awake. And he was even more pissed off then the female. Charlie glanced over to him and gulped. Sitting up in the canister he was huge! He was the biggest bastard that Charlie had ever seen in his life! His three fingered hands were larger than Charlie’s head and could probably crush his skull with ease. In fact Charlie was sure that this alien had crushed many skulls in his time. Perhaps that is why these characters were inside these canisters. Perhaps they were evil criminals and Greebol was some sort of interstellar police officer.

  “You!” the large alien called, one of his thick, orange fingers pointing at Charlie, “Is This Your Doing Pink Skin?” Charlie tried to protest but found nothing but a terrified gibber release from his lips. His pants were damp again.

  “I Will Crush Your Skull For This Outrage Pink Skin” growled the pig alien. Charlie was right. He did crush skulls. He would have patted himself on the back for correctly guessing that one had his back not been firmly against the wall and if he wasted time right now patting himself on the back he would probably find himself with a very flat head.

  As the pig alien moved towards him, instinct decided to pop by and tell Charlie what to do. With one quick movement, and with closed eyes, he swung at the pig alien with the large instruction manual. The attack came as a surprise to the alien who, caught off guard, took the full force of the book on the top of his big, bald orange head.

  Charlie took his chance and swung again, this time connecting the book with the pig’s lower jaw. The alien fell backwards back into the canister. Instantly Charlie slammed the glass lid down and pressed the ‘freeze’ button. The inside of the canister turned blue as the pig creature froze solid, his eyes closing, returning him to the deep sleep in which Charlie had found him.

  “Well…” said the voice of the female alien behind him. She was unable to finish her sentence as Charlie, forgetting that she was there and in a great panic, swung the large book at her too, cracking her across the head and sending her back down into the canister.

  Panicking, Charlie slammed the lid down and once again pressed the ‘freeze’ button sending the lovely looking female alien instantly to the land of nod. At least Charlie hoped they were asleep and he hadn’t actually just killed them both.

  Alone once again Charlie slumped to the ground out of breath. All was silent except for the humming sounds emitting from the canisters. Now this was a story worth telling. He could see the headlines now – ‘Charlie Pinwright – Alien slayer!’ He would be a local hero! His mother would finally remember his face. His ex-girlfriend would fall in love with him and actually mean it this time. Geoffrey George would be begging him to take his job back! Women would want him and men would want to be him!

  On the other hand who would ever believe him? He would have no proof that he had done this courageous deed. He could see the headlines now – ‘Charlie Pinwright – sectioned’ He would be a local weirdo. His mother would finally have a real reason to disown him. His ex-girlfriend would sell strange stories about him to the paper. Geoffrey George would be even more grateful to have seen the back of him. Women would stay clear of him and men would throw rocks at his face.

  Not a very good prospect. Probably best he never mentioned this to anyone. Ever. Especially not to Greebol. He might not understand that Charlie woke up these sleeping aliens by accident.

  Realising how long he had spent sitting by himself in this room, Charlie decided to head back into the main circular area. He didn’t want Greebol to think he had been ‘snooping’. He stepped over to the door, pressed the nipple-shaped button and stepped through.

  Chapter 8

  “Ah there you are! I was wondering where you had got to,” said Greebol as Charlie stepped back into the circular room. He tried not to act suspicious but in doing so made him look like the most suspicious man on the planet. He could have been guilty of the great train robbery or the murder of J.F.K.

  Luckily Greebol did not seem to pick up on it. He was more concerned with a long, thin device in his hand with a simple red button on the end. He entered what appeared to be coordinates into the device then pressed the red button.

  A strange noise that could only be described as a shimmering sound emitted from the end of the device, followed by a glow that also could only be described as a shimmer. The glow stopped at the ground where, to Charlie’s amazement, something was appearing out of thin air. It dazzled and sparked and flickered, but slowly whatever it was grew solid.

  Within seconds there was a large bag on the floor by Greebol’s feet. The alien explained that the device was a Through Interspace Transportation System, or TITS for short. He had basically transported the bag from one place to another by splitting the item into billions of tiny pieces that travelled through subspace to the coordinates inputted by the control device.

  Greebol didn’t seem too interested in explaining this brilliant piece of technology to Charlie right now. He was more interested in the bag by his feet. It interested Charlie also as the bag was about the size of a man. Whatever was inside seemed to be squirming like a man would inside a bag. Also there was a muffled sound, that was similar to that a man would make who was trapped inside a bag. All in all, Charlie was pretty sure that there was a man inside that bag.

  “Been touring the electrical?” asked Greebol.

  “I was looking for the bathroom,” responded Charlie very matter-of-factly and a little too defensively.

  “Oh good,” said Greebol with his usual wide mouthed smile under the moustache that made whoever looked at him rather uncomfortable, “did you find it?”

  “Yes thank you,” Charlie lied.

  “Excellent, excellent,” said Greebol as he placed the bag in the centre of the room. He reached inside his suit jacket and removed a small metal box about the size of the palm of one’s hand and placed it on the metal table. “A funny thing…” he continued, “there is no bathroom onboard my electrical.”

  Charlie went red. His heart missed a beat. He needed to say something and fast. But what? “Then I apologise as I might have just pissed on your bed,” he said and could have kicked himself straight after.

  To Charlie’s luck, Greebol laughed. “When you have got to go you have got to go!” the masked alien chuckled. “You know… I like you. We are going to get along just fine I know it!”

  ‘Going to get along fine?’ thought Charlie, ‘how long are we planning on staying together for?’

  “Greebol?” he said after a brief pause, “I’ll probably regret asking this but… what’s in the bag?”

  “I am very glad you asked Charlie my friend! It is someone who can help us fix our electrical!”

  He knew it! There was a man inside that bag. And Charlie was concerned at Greebol’s use of the words ‘us’ and ‘our’.

  The masked alien stepped over to the bag and untied the rope at the top. Charlie held his breath. Who was it that the crazy alien had abducted now? He had a vague idea but hoped he was wrong.

  Greebol removed the bag. Charlie was not wrong. In fact Charlie was so right that he could have fallen over for lack of balance.

  Sitting in the middle of the circular room, onboard the alien spaceship, hands tied and gaffer tape around his mouth, sat the plump form of Geoffrey George. He was wearing his pyjamas and a nightcap. He looked most infuriated. Charlie groaned. This was officially now the worst night of his life. Probably the worst of Geoffrey George’s life too.

  Geoffrey began to mumble and tried to call out, restricted by the ever resilient gaffer tape. “Looks like he wants to speak,” said Greebol cheerfully. He slid over to Geoffrey and, in one single movement, ripped the thick and durable gaffer tape from his mouth almost removing his lips in the process. Geoffrey screamed. When the pain subsided, Geoffrey George growled, his lips large and throbbing as though he had suffered a long and gruelling night of botox.

  “How very dare you!” he shouted, “This is an outrage! Do you people know who I am? I am a very important person in this city! You will not
get away with this and I promise you, you will receive no ransom money…” he paused as he finally noticed Charlie standing next to the wall looking very sheepish. Like a sheep.

  Geoffrey George’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Charlie with a look of thunder plastered on his chubby face. He took a deep breath. “Pen… I mean… Pinwright? Is that you boy?”

  Guiltily, Charlie stepped forwards. “Hello King,” he said quietly looking down at his feet.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” Geoffrey said confused, “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Well… you see… I… “Charlie had no idea how to answer that question.

  “If this is some lame attempt to get your job back let me tell you Charlie my boy you are gravely mistaken!”

  “No sir… this is not-“

  “This is kidnapping Pinwright! Kidnapping I tell you! This is an illegal offence!”

  For Geoffrey George, this was not the first time he had been kidnapped. True, he had never been kidnapped by an alien before as before this day there were no other aliens in Geoffrey George’s universe. The previous time ‘King’ George was kidnapped was on Christmas Eve. Christmas was a time hated by Geoffrey. It meant giving. Giving bonuses to his employees. Giving discount to customers. Giving a present – usually a cheap perfume set that smelt like old ladies undergarments – to his wife.

  However, one cold winters night three ghosts came to him whilst he slept to show him the error of his ways. A ghost of the past, a ghost of the present and the ghost of the future. In reality the ghosts were three miffed employees dressed all in white who drugged him, threw him in the back of a van and kept him hostage in a basement for three weeks. The whole terrible incident came to a bloody end when the secret service finally discovered their whereabouts and a Hollywood style shootout occurred, which for no apparent reason also involved a high speed car chase, several large explosions and a cop in a vest who just would not die. The three kidnappers were each shot dead and became real ghosts trapped forever in that basement with only each other to haunt. Of course trying to scare a fellow ghost was a difficult task and they would continue to try and scare one another for the rest of time. Some would say a fitting punishment for three underpaid and overworked employees who wanted a pay rise.

  Geoffrey George was later found locked in a cupboard eating his own toe.

  “Charlie think about what you are doing here?” Geoffrey continued.

  “You’ve got it all wrong King,” Charlie protested.

  “I have a wife Charlie my boy!”

  Greebol chuckled to himself. “My first encounter with a Human female,” he said, “a very interesting experience. Hideously ugly creatures your women.”

  Charlie was about to object until he thought about some of the spotty, greasy, black toothed women that lived in his neighbourhood and was forced to nod his head in agreement.

  “She was terrified,” said Geoffrey, “she was screaming!”

  “She is not screaming anymore,” said Greebol.

  Charlie held his breath. “What did you do to her?” he asked slowly.

  “Oh not much really. I just took her voice.” Greebol picked up the small metal box from the table and shook it. “It is inside here now! You should have seen her Charlie, shouting as loud as she could but nothing coming out!”

  “Her voice is trapped inside that box?” questioned Charlie both disturbed and impressed. “Let me guess… another invention of Lousina the prostitute professor?”

  “She really is quite the clever lady.”

  “Indeed. A regular client are we?”

  Greebol beamed. “She seriously is the best in the galaxy. You will have to sample her delights yourself sometime.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Charlie mumbled. “I like my ladies to have two eyes.”

  “It is not the eye you want to worry about,” said Greebol, “it is the three vaginas! To the untrained it can become very confusing!”

  “Charlie… who is this plastic fantastic scoundrel?” questioned Geoffrey nodding in Greebol’s direction.

  “Well… he is… it’s a little hard to explain,” answered Charlie, “I only met him today. You see… he kidnapped me as well! We’re in the same sinking boat you and I Geoffrey.”

  “It’s King.”

  “As I said Geoffrey… he kidnapped me, he kidnapped you. At this moment in time we are equals. Your abduction has nothing to do with me!”

  “Are you trying to tell me this is not all your doing Pinwright? That this isn’t some cheap misguided attempt to acquire your job back?”

  “Finally he understands!” shouted Charlie flinging his arms in the air.

  Geoffrey George frowned. “Then why the bloody hell am I tied up and you aren’t?”

  Charlie stumbled. “Well…” The more he thought about it, the less he could think of a reasonable excuse. Eventually he turned to Greebol and said, “Why is he tied up and I never was?”

  “Simple,” said Greebol, “he looks like he could put up more of a fight.”

  Charlie felt ashamed and slightly annoyed at the same time. Was it just a general impression he gave people that he was not tough, not hard, not a fighter? True, he never did any sort of exercise, unless tapping on the control pad of his computer console constituted as exercise. If that was the case then his fingers must be stronger than an ox. He could probably lift a car with these fingers. The saying ‘I could kill you with my little finger’ came into mind. Something he would have to put into practice one day.

  Geoffrey George on the other hand smiled, even though he was still tied up. Of course, he knew he was stronger than Pinwright. Of course he was! How could he not be? Pinwright was a weed of a man. Other than that pot belly of his he was as scrawny as a poodle. Geoffrey liked to think that he was built like a beast. If he wanted to, he could not only be king of the electrical repair industry, he could be king of the boxing ring! Thunder Fists, that’s the name they used to call him in the school playground. In reality they used to call him Fatty Fists due to his unusually lumpy lard filled fingers, but Geoffrey, being Geoffrey, heard nothing but praise uttered from his spotty classmate’s mouths.

  “I don’t blame you for keeping me tied,” said Geoffrey, “I could rip you in half sir! You and your silly village people moustache!”

  Charlie flinched. Geoffrey George did not realise that behind that village people moustache, behind that plastic complexion, stood a grey skinned alien. He half expected Greebol to pounce at the chubby man and suck off his face. Instead Greebol smiled, that disturbingly wide smile.

  “An excellent response,” he said, “I like your attitude King. You are a fighter. A Human who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Just the type of man I need!”

  “Need to do what?” asked Geoffrey, trying to piece these strange events together. He didn’t understand why this man would kidnap both he and Charlie Pinwright. They had nothing in common at all.

  “I need you to repair my electrical,” beamed Greebol.

  Geoffrey George was gob smacked. “You kidnap me and bring me all this way to fix an electrical appliance?”

  “Not an electrical appliance... but my actual electrical,” corrected Greebol.

  “I don’t fix things,” snapped Geoffrey, “I own the bloody business! I have dogs-bodies to do that work for me!”

  “Now, now Geoffrey,” said Charlie with a sadistic gleam to his voice, “some people might lose their jobs with an attitude like that.”

  Geoffrey glared at Charlie. It was a glare that could have cut the hair off a cats back. However, as there was no cat, it instead made Charlie’s knees knock and his heart decide it wanted to remain still for at least a minute.

  Greebol looked heartbroken. Every feature on his false face seemed to droop. Charlie had to wonder if there was a problem with his Image-Rendering Mask or if he really was as sad as he appeared.

  “So… you cannot fix my electrical?” he asked. There was a troubling sadness to his voice. I
t cracked and was speckled with hints of sorrow. The type of voice that any real man tried to avoid at all cost for fear of having to comfort a blubbering, tearful mess.

  Geoffrey George considered himself a real man. The last time he had to console a crying person, he had been five years old watching Bambi. Gregory George, Geoffrey’s father, had cried for hours. He would continue to randomly break down into tears over the film for the rest of his life. Geoffrey had ended up accusing his father of sexual harassment and had him imprisoned for twelve years as it was the only way to stop him from his emotional outbreaks. Interestingly, since watching that sad family film, Geoffrey had had an obsessive fear of deer.

  “Please… don’t cry,” begged Geoffrey as Greebol’s fake eyes began to water, “I do not work well with crying! Please… tell me what it is you want fixing… perhaps I can help you after all!”

  Instantly Greebol’s waterworks seized. ‘An act?’ wondered Charlie. If it was then it was an act worthy of an Oscar. Charlie was sure that Greebol would even put on his weeping show when collecting the golden statue. ‘I want to thank my mum and my dad.’ The eyes would blister. ‘I want to thank the people of Earth for inviting a strange alien to their world.’ Sniffling of the nose. ‘And most of all… I want to thank God.’ Full scale breakdown. Plumbers would have to be called.

  Greebol slapped Geoffrey George on the back. “Excellent!” he called, “After seeing your amazing television advert I knew you would not let me down! You have such charm about you.” Charlie shook his head. The alien knew how to appeal to a man’s ego.

  “I would need to ask what it is you require fixing. What is this electrical you are talking of?” asked Geoffrey.

  Greebol opened his arms and spun around slowly on the spot. “You are sitting in it.” On seeing Geoffrey’s confused face, Greebol was forced to continue. “My spaceship! It is broken and in dire need of repair.”

  At this point, the vague sense of reality that Geoffrey George was existing in, knowing that he might be able to fix his way out of this current situation, vanished. It was as though his whole world had come crashing down on his head – and King George had a large world full of fixed microwaves, kettles, televisions and fridge freezers. Enough to flatten a man like a pancake.