The power in the house started to cut in an out, probably due to electrical disturbances from what looked like dozens of alien spaceships touching down it the street. No doubt they belonged to the shrunken humans’ captors, and indeed they did. The long, lean, blue skinned women disembarked from their ships one by one and each approached a house on the block.
“I think they’re here!” Mary gasped, “We need to hide! Now!”
No sooner had she said that, one Futarian had sliced the front door clean off and waltzed right in. The alien invader held up a strange device that would lead her straight to the humans, no matter where they would be hiding. She traveled up the stairs, listening to the device’s beeps as if playing Hot and Cold.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the Futarian called, “If you come quietly, I will be a gentle owner.”
Mary and Matthew were scrambling around the room, looking for someplace to hide. Mary settled for a pile of laundry and buried herself inside. Now was not the time to be picky about where she was gonna hide, but the overwhelming scent of boy stink was less than ideal, to put it very mildly.
“Are you hiding in this room?” the Futarian entered, the device beeping faster. Mary held her breath as the alien slowly waved the device over the room. The beeping got faster as it waved over the laundry pile. “Ah, so you do hide! Naughty you are, human. I will punish you for this!” The alien reached into the dirty clothes and started tossing them aside, searching for Mary. The second the human was exposed she tried to book it.
Mary only got as far as the door when she was suddenly grabbed by the alien invader’s pale blue fingers. Her grip was tight, and struggling seemed futile. She was brought face to face with the alien, who started at her with those creepy blue eyes.
“Running away will do you no good,” the alien stated, “You are my toy now. You are having a name, yes? What is your name?” Mary didn’t answer. She continued trying to escape the alien’s grip. The Futarian of course was not amused. “Tell me your name, dickgirl. You will tell me your name, else I will find out what sound your skull makes when I squeeze it.”
Mary stopped struggling, and with a defeated sigh she told the alien her name.
“There. Was not that hard, was it? I am being called Prickta, but you must call me Master, Mary. Now let me play with you.”