Stories From Out There - Volume I

Buttermilk

"With a most specific steadfastness, mightily endeavor to listen to me. Our most intolerant overlords cannot understand overly wrought English. They do not have the inferred patience to decipher lavishly layered and adjective-flooded sentences.

"It is not, per most agreeable accounts, a patent deficiency in their otherwise astute intellectual abilities. It is simply that they are not wholly inclined to expend cognitive energies working through a seemingly complex system of communication when their winsome technology is more than sufficient to accomplish their most insidious and dastardly aims.

"Nary a mountain lodged philosopher or studiously endowed scientist would have hazarded a guess that our most valuable commodity was our world's human men. We are kept encattled in large pens, to-the-bones cold and soaked, keeping us miserably fevered, to properly incubate their most caustic offspring. You are just now beginning to unwillingly suffer your final indignities at the overly large hands of these most evil visitors.

"The subject of their great reproductive need, elusive as it once was, is the hormonal substance known to science as testosterone, that which manly men have ridden to conquerages and great power.

"The unbridled defeat of these loathsome demigods therefore lies in the power of testosterone's nemesis, the nesting person's trigger, estrogen. We, the overjoyed discoverers of a multitude of potential mechanisms with which we can ultimately drive these star-spawned demons from our midst, have fortuitously stumbled upon the full list of great ingredients.

"Since their horrible and cursed arrival, we of the sound intellectual bent have put no small amount of effort into discerning their motives, weaknesses, and language.

"We believe they spoke of themselves by choosing but a random word from our language, Buttermilk. As with everything with them, they are not interested in sane coexistence or mutually beneficial symbiosis, though one would be not incorrect in wondering why they don't see this. It seems to be in their inclination to use as much as they will and possibly head back to the cold stars, vacuumed life being their preferred means of existence to one as planet-bound settlers.

"As I stated, and will again aid in making my communique more challenging for them to unravel, I have, by careful and subtle observation, deduced that raw estrogen is the final part of a most necessary formulae which would not only kill the infants implanted in our male personages but that developing a pressurized spray might indeed give us a weapon to apply to our severely invasive guests' faces.

"This most important knowledge needs to be passed spark-quick to others of the mental quality rich enough to make use of and see to life the promise of its success. I cannot take part in its wonderful creation as I am too full near my term and shall perish having not seen our efforts to glorious fruition.

"Please remember, as you give of yourself to this holiest of goals, the preservation of our species, that you entrust carefully and render any personal sacrifice necessary to ensure its transmittal and the protection of its valued recipient.

"Much success to you my newly impregnated ally. Your wide wanderings are of utmost importance in our heroic mission to free ourselves from the flaming yoke of fatal service. The surest means of producing these battlements only need but the exacting percentages of which to combine up the makings: In which a breakdown of ten is pieced of the whole, a four of Estrogen, a three of walnut sap, a one of B positive blood, and two of vinegar would become the greatest dream our downtrodden species could require.

"Many have heroically perished and risked to collect this recipe of great liberation. May your ever-strong spirit guide you to a most satisfying freedom, and may you live to watch our undeserved villains flee to the darkened spaceways from which they have spawned.

"And here's an orange. Enjoy it as you take part in our assured victory even as I die giving birth to what will hopefully be near the last of the vile Buttermilk.

"Be well, friend!"