The End of the World as We Know It:

The message was clear, albeit delivered in an alien tongue: the world as humans knew it was ending, but that was only the beginning. It was also going to explode very soon.

Panic ensued in all parts of the globe where humans had access to digital technology showing them over and over pictures of the Earth going up in flames. Presumably, things were calm and peaceful in most of Greenland and Antarctica, but that didn't mean much to the 8 billion people who knew they were going to die in a burning, gassy inferno at any moment.

Rebecca decided to spend her last days with the ones she loved. She gathered her beloved around her, crying a little, laughing some, and telling stories. They hid, cuddling with her in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom: Brandy, Gin, Armagnac, Tequila, Vodka, the whiskey cousins from all over the world and a whole flock of baby bottles collected over the years from dozens of hotels.

Something was ringing with annoying insistence under the pile of fur coats she was snuggling on, and she had to dig through them to find whatever it was. A phone. Her phone. It was ringing.

It was ringing! Harold had found a spot for her on the government vessel!

"Harold!" she cried. She was saved.

"Rebecca?" a man asked.

"Harold?" she asked. Hope for the vessel was shrinking rapidly.

"Rebecca, it's Hugh."

"Hugh, who?"

"No time for that, I forgive you for stranding me naked with only my belt and a pair of high heels in the desert, also that time you sold me to the meat market vendor."

"That's nice." All hope of escaping was gone.

"Rebecca, I'm trying to say I still love you."

"Listen, I have to keep the line free."

"I have the Hail Mary up and running," he said.

"I love you, too!" Hope had returned with a vengeance.

"Meet me at the back of the casino, bring only what you need to survive."

***

Captain Hugh Parker studied his motley crew and tried to imagine them capable of getting his vessel off the planet and all the way to the moon. A pilot, a moron, a mechanic, himself and a former human being. It was a stretch.

"The moon is no-go. It will be blown up in 5.8 minutes when we also take out the internet and electricity," Carl informed him, obviously reading his mind. Well, the tape-worm space alien hooked to Carl's spinal cord and lizard brain were reading his mind.

"Tell me again why we are aiding and abetting the enemy?" Roy asked. He fingered his machete that he kept on his person at all times.

"Because he will steer us through the traps these mongrel extraterrestrials have set through the atmosphere. He gets us out of here, and we give him a ride. So you aliens are blowing up the moon first?"

Carl nodded with mechanical precision.

"What does that leave us?" the pilot asked. He shook his shaggy head. "I don't have any coordinates on our Orbiters or security passes for docking."

"Disconnect from external power and switch on the algae fuel cells, before the electricity goes," the captain said.

"That won't be enough for take-off," warned the mechanic. "She won't get her ass off the ground on algae."

"Then reroute energy from the core frame!" Captain Parker yelled.

A man cleared his throat behind them. Flowing brown robes and wide eyes immediately informed the captain he was a member of a strange sect.

"Off my ship, you had no permission to board."

"I come seeking my new master," the weirdo answered.

"How the hell did you find us, anyway? Roy, get rid of him."

Roy pulled his machete. He lived for days like these.

The man waved his fingers in the air. "I am not the man you want to throw off the ship."

"This isn't the man I want to throw off the ship."

"What? You weak minded ninny!" Captain Parker said.

The newcomer turned to him, smiling smugly. "The force is strong in me. I have it. My fingers have it. My kneecaps have it. You...do not have it."

The captain drew his new-line laser pistol. "You won't have it after I blast a hole in your chest."

The man drew a flash-light and turned it on. He made a humming, zzz-zzz noise and swished the light back and forth. "I call it my glow-in-the-dark sword."

"And it looks almost as useful as a bow and arrow during a planetary crisis."

***

Rebecca's crosstown trip took considerably less time to make than in the days of traffic laws and streets. Since the roadways were jammed she used the sidewalks, front lawns, parking lots and parks; avoiding pedestrians for the most part. That last one didn't count. After what the man had called her, he was asking for it. Cunt was more than a little offensive even before she'd downed three baby bottles of Jameson's.

Finding the Hail Mary hiding among the wreckage of other space crafts behind the abandoned casino, she dragged her crates up the ramp and called for Hugh.

When no one came, she went on to the bridge.

Captain Hugh Parker was sexier than any recluse, smuggler captain who survived on a wish and prayer had any right to be. Although, the fact that he had offered to get her off the planet and was subduing a weirdo in hand to hand combat might have been part of the sex appeal.

"Hi, Hugh, honey. I hate to interrupt, but right before the electricity went out, I heard that plagues of locusts were spotted in the area and a three mile-high tsunami wave should be here soon."

"Everyone, strap in, except for you Roy, get the doors sealed," the captain ordered.

Rebecca moved to the front to see out the window, while the religious weirdo snuck into a spot in the back. Carl sat in the seat next to the pilot, hands hovering over the direction pads. The pilot had the rest of the control panel and the mechanic was under it, switching around wires and talking to himself in a Scottish brogue.

"What is that big, black slug thing attached to your back and...burrowing into your brain?" Rebecca asked Carl.

"That is me."

"Carl is the reason we are going to survive this trip," Hugh said. "That slimy thing is one of the aliens, but since he's not in their good graces anymore, he needs us to give him a lift."

"Right-o. Can I switch seats?"

A grey cloud of insects descended on the city, coating the space-craft and nearly blocking the view. Even inside the noise was deafening.

"Phase three of our intervention," Carl announced. "Earthquakes, volcano eruptions, hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis and insects. They are cute, aren't they?"

The ground and ship began shaking and the earthquake opened a crater right in front of them, swallowing half of the casino.

"I've given the command for take-off. Somebody make it so!" the captain said.

"I have to get this power diverted to the thrusters, my God, man!" the mechanic called from the floor.

The crater was lengthening into a deep trench, heading inexorably straight for them. Enough steam to power hell and the Hail Mary was pouring from it. Lava spewed upwards in bursts, grilling the locusts and the smell of cooking insects filled the bridge. Rebecca needed some Southern Comfort which she had very cleverly packed in her purse.

"There's too much weight!" cried the mechanic.

"I've tossed everything I could except for the coffee," answered Roy.

"Wait, what about my crates of what I need to survive?" Rebecca asked. "Did you toss my alcohol?" She cradled her last bottle in her arms.

Now that the insects were burning to black crisps, they could see in the not so distant distance a three mile high tsunami wave coming for them.

"That's something you don't see in Vegas every day," the pilot said. "Thrusters at 80%!"

"Punch it!" the captain ordered.

The wave blocked the light of the sun. Shooting upwards and shedding toasted bugs, the vessel careened up to the crest and broke free of the killer waters. They were in the clear. The men whooped with the thrill of having stared death in the face and then mooning it.

***

Hugh tried to console Rebecca for her loss of the booze, but it was a losing battle.

"Our course, Captain?" the pilot asked.

"The station on Mars is our only option."

"Whoa, the station where everyone went crazy and turned into cannibals?" Rebecca asked.

"Rumors," the pilot said.

"Confirmed! Harold told me all about it during a game of strip poker." She sniffled in remembrance. She was going to miss the spiced rum that went with that game. "Where will the other ships go?"

"There will be no other vessels," Carl announced. He was scanning the screens in front of him.

"Why is that?"

"The traps will disintegrate any other vessels that manage to leave the atmosphere, but I will steer us through them."

"Groovy. Why exactly are you guys blowing us up?"

"Politics."

"I thought politics made strange bedfellows," the pilot said.

"I always thought tequila made strange bedfellows," Rebecca said. "What?" she asked when the men stared at her. "You can't judge me just because I'm the only woman on this ship."

Now they were staring at each other.

"Oh, shit. Wait. I'm the only woman. There have to be other ships to get through. I mean, you can hardly expect me to repopulate the human race. Besides, I'm sure you didn't pack seeds and stuff to grow our own food somewhere."

The captain cleared his throat, "We have enough coffee to last for eight years."

"We need to go to Sweden before we leave," Roy suggested, scratching his chin with the machete.

"Sweden?" the captain asked.

"They have a warehouse of frozen grains...and blondes there. We could pick up a couple."

"We can't make a side trip, there will be life-sustaining supplies on Mars," the Captain said.

"Only if the cannibals didn't run out of each other to eat," the pilot said.

Carl shook his head. "There is still phase four of our plan, where my kind abducts and trains all the human children to be adorable assassins before we launch the final missiles. But we cannot waste any more time. My presence might be detected."

Roy slammed a fist in the control panel. "Because of you we don't get to pick up chicks? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway, telling us what we can and can't do?"

"I am (garble, garble, crunch) the only son of her majesty (crunch, spit, crunch) and I am taking over the command of this vessel," Carl said.

"How will you command with a hole through your chest?" Captain Parker asked, standing and pulling his pistol again.

"Is that the transmitter light blinking?" the mechanic asked.

"You just transmitted that to every open com from here to Jupiter," the pilot told Roy and the Carl.

"Is that bad?" Roy asked.

Moaning, Rebecca took a big swig of Southern Comfort. So much for the human race.

"We have two alien space craft headed our way, Captain. Less than two minutes and counting," the pilot said.

Carl convulsed and fell face first on the control panel. The sluggy alien was ripping itself from its human host, leaving a line of tiny holes and bloody streaks down the man's back. Rebecca screamed as it pulled free. The man from the sect jumped up and turned on his flashlight, illuminating its slimy head and mouthful of tentacle tongues.

It slithered across the floor. Roy and the nut corralled it the best they could with the machete and the flashlight beams.

"Don't let it attach to anyone!" the captain yelled.

"We are within firing range of alien spacecraft!"

"There's not enough power for light speed, Captain, we're trapped like fish in a barrel!"

The captain snapped his finger. "Prepare for a barrel role and then execute the 64th Minister maneuver. This bucket of bolts still has a few tricks left in her and I'll be damned-"

The ship jumped upwards a dozen yards, knocking humans to the floor. The alien streaked for Rebecca who clambered onto the captain and threw her bottle at it at the same time.

The bottle shattered. The nut waved his fingers at the alien, causing it to rear back. Roy dropped an empty coffee bag on it.

The ship continued its upward journey.

"We're caught in a tractor beam," the pilot said, confirming everyone's assumptions. "The aliens have us."

***

"I had no idea a ship this big could be cloaked," the pilot said.

"Doesn't matter now. We've averted an intergalactic tragedy by returning the runaway fiancé to his family and betrothed."

"I can't believe they were going to blow us up. They didn't even ask if we were hiding him, they just assumed," Rebecca said.

"I think they did ask, but had their translators set to humpback whale song."

"Why don't they just speak English like everyone else?" Roy muttered.

"So this is an alien wedding ceremony. If I understood the queen, our friend has to marry his sister," Rebecca said.

"Gross. I'd run off, too." Roy said.

They had been invited to stay and watch after they handed over their prisoner. The attack on Earth was called off and most everyone was happy. Of course, an artificial moon would have to be built, Carl was a drooling vegetable and all of the coastal cities and land in the world were flattened, but other than that, things were looking good.

The cavern-like hall dimmed and the bride emitted a beam of light at her new husband, similar to a flashlight. His head swayed back and forth as though mesmerized until she opened her huge jaws and began devouring his tail. Shrieks filled the air.

"Oh, it's a freaky incestuous, praying mantis, mating ritual. I think I'll need to bleach my brain," Rebecca whispered. "Who else is up for a drink when we get home?"

"First round is on me and the Force," the weirdo said.