Father Francis had watched what the world had become. He'd seen people slowly abandon the churches in favor of NASCAR, football, and the latest computer manufactured virtual idol that had gone through dozens if not hundreds of marketing committees before being released on the public. It always being the mental patients that spoke pseudo-religious words that were paid attention to, because they were entertaining.
A priest warning against excess, hedonism, egotism, gluttony, meaningless sex, and short-term pleasures did not entertain, and in fact could hurt the stock market. Best to ignore them. And the depiction of anyone religion in entertainment as misguided at best, or delusion at worse, and of course the 'self serving conman who existed just to take the money of the desperate for an imaginary invisible genie in the sky where all the ghosts lived in the clouds.' That was what faith meant to people now. He wondered if there was anyone left of his flock who didn't come just for the free donuts.
Like many others, he thought the broadcast was simply an advertisement by one of the giant companies that now basically owned the childhood of every person in the country. Their favorite toys, favorite stories, their childhood drawings, their games of pretend, all came with a copyright tag for companies who had employed creators who had been dead for over half a century.
Now you were face to face with one of the invaders. A little purple plush fox. They were too small too be a dwarf in a costume. Their body shape alone made it impossible. They moved bonelessly, their plastic eyes moved and blink with cloth. There was no noise of motors. No strings. Their felt muzzle moved in a way suggesting muscles made of fluff underneath.
"Hi. I'm Frankly The Fox. I'm here to add you to our invasion force. Would you like some cookies before or after?"
"God save us," he whispered.
"Maybe he has. Maybe that's why these alien arrived in the first place."
"... You were human?"
"Yep. Can't say it isn't the best thing to ever happen to me!" Father Francis saw no one else looking out their windows, and those on the street who saw assumed it was a child doing early trick-or-treating.
"You can still eat?" Father Francis found himself asking.
"Technically we don't need to, we animate from the power of love. But we can metabolize sugar easy-peasy." Frankly said, still holding the plate and ray-gun to the priest's face.
"There's no way I'm getting out of this am I?" He asked.
"No, not really. We've been assimilating humans left and right. The most miserably people first since they need it most. Which also means the most poor, most homeless... and the occasional clinically depressed well off person who's scared of taking medication. So it's like humans don't even notice. The princess actually asked me, 'what the cotten-candy is WRONG with your species?!' By the time we'd gotten 100 humans changed and nobody did anything besides think our spaceships were new spy satellites by The Enemy."
"... You're right, if I called the police, they'd just laugh at me wouldn't they? ... Please come inside, out of the cold... and I will take a cookie."
"THANK YOU!"
Soon the priest and the plushie were sitting across from each other in their living room.
"... I gotta say. When I was human. I thought all priests were super-rich," Frankly said looking around.
"A misconception I can assure you... So... what do I become? Will I still me be? Or will it be an alien with my memories?"
"Hmmm... " Frankly made a thinking pose. "Well. That's a good question. I wish I had an easy answer. I know my line of consciousness wasn't broke when I was changed at least. So that's assuring. Though I'd be lying if I said I definitely didn't feel different from how I was before. I understand WHY I didn't want to be assimilated, so that's a good sign. Though I appreciate cute things a lot more..."
"Would you excuse me for a moment? While I pray my last rites just in case then?" The middle aged man asked.
"Sure thing! We're in no rush!"
Father Francis did so... and finally said, "I'm ready."
Frankly Fox raised and fired the ray gun.
The priest's clothes vanished, and his body gave off a glow as is body became a white plush bear, golden cloth wings forming out of his back as his eyes became beady round pieces of glass. The new plushie floated up in the air, and a new ray gun was teleported into one paw.
"He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. –— Isaiah 2:3–4," the new plushie quoted.
"And what's your name?" Frankly Fox asked.
"I'm Frankie Bear!"
"Nice to meet you Frankie! I'm Frankly. See? That wasn't so bad was it?"
"I haven't felt this alive in ... forever!"
"Ready to help spread the gift?"
"YOU KNOW IT!"