After months of heated debates, the Bureau of Organising Overtures for Banal Situations (B.O.O.B.S. for short) finally made the galactic-shattering decision to invite those creatures. The only thing left to do was deliver the invitation.

Customs in the Megalopolis Galaxy vary from planet to planet. But there is one custom that is universally observed: personally delivering invitations. Megalopolons consider it the height of impropriety to do anything else. So as soon as the digitised seal was scanned onto the TV-sized, titanium envelope, the Megolopolon delegation boarded their ship and set a course for Earth.

Megalopolons aren't particularly known for their manners. In actuality, they have more in common with Black Friday shoppers than people at a formal dinner party. For example, bursting through someone's door at suppertime on Earth is considered rude, especially when you weren't invited. But this type of behaviour was perfectly normal for the creatures barrelling towards Earth at blistering speeds.

As such, the earthlings were grossly unprepared for what was heading their way.

Adrián Espinoza stepped out of his apartment building ready for his first day at the prestigious De Hoyos y Aviles law firm in the heart of Mexico City. His black hair's sheen was only matched by that of his shoes, and his new, navy blue suit made him look courtroom ready. He was about to descend the steps into the subway when something in the sky caught his eye. The metro card he held his teeth slipped out of his mouth; the rest of the morning crowd froze while looking up at the strange object growing by the second.

Fear cemented Adrián's feet to the sidewalk, while the other pedestrians scrambled for cover. Within seconds, the triangular-shaped ship landed in the plaza a few feet from where Adrián stood gawking. Moments later, a square hole appeared on the silver surface of the vessel. A conveyor belt extended towards the ground and capsule-shaped creatures floated out accompanied by puffs of white smoke.

The group of aliens hovered towards the trembling Adrián and said: "Hola."

Adrián stopped mid flinch, opened his eyes and just stared. The Megolopolons stared back and then talked among themselves.

"Didn't you say they spoke Spanish in this—what do they call these divisions?" said emissary Logden.

"Countries, sir," replied his aide. "And they do speak that Earth language here."

"Right, right," Logden cleared his throat. "Is the Speech Fixer on the fritz again?"

"No, sir," the aide sighed.

"Then why isn't he responding?"

"He appears to be afraid of us; they all appear to be."

"Afraid? Why would they be afraid?"

"Porque we...think...you want to kill us," Adrián stammered.

"Kill earthlings?" the bubbling liquid inside Lodgen's crystal headgear turned yellow as he chuckled. "How absurd."

Adrián paused to think for a second, then said, "Amigos?"

"Sort of," replied Logden. "This is for you."

The large metallic envelope materialised in front of Adrián's face.

"Que...what is it?"

"An invitation for Earth to join us in the annual Megalopolis Athletics Extravaganza," Logden beamed.