Crop Circles

A short funny story about a group of aliens...and a mission in jeopardy.

EXCERPT:

The huddled group in the car nearly stopped breathing as they tried to make out the image. One member scribbled notes in the faint light from the moon: height, shape of the head, suspected total numbers of the group.

Then the strange beings turned slightly, hands still up by their shoulders, revealing what they were carrying.

One of the watchers snorted. "Is that...a board?"

-

"No. No, this is not acceptable. A board? My people do not make crop circles using...using...farming implements."

"Shhh. Shut up, Gamma. We're trying to figure out what to do here."

"It's very clear what's going on here, Delta. Some kids are out there in the field insulting my people with their terrible impression of a design appreciated and beloved across the cosmos."

Phi snorted. "Yeah, uh, circles are real hard to do, Gamma."

Gamma reached over and tried to smack him. Phi grinned and darted out of reach.

Delta stared ahead. "The two of you need to close your air holes before we get cau-"

The figures on the screen began to move again. He held up a hand. "Quiet. Look."

Phi snorted at Gamma's horrified expression as the beings began to mash crops into the approximation of a circle.