Aliens Love Orange Soda

Aliens Love Orange Soda

A Story by R. L. Hill

Sam Solomon is sitting on his front porch nursing a bottle of white lightning. The clear liquid has his head spinning, but not enough to topple him over just yet. “Them crickets is awfully noisy, hmmm, Petunia?” He speaks to his dog like she can hear, but the old thing has been deaf for a number of years. He’s got his foot propped up on a stack of old bricks as he enjoys the summer breeze that flits through the forest surrounding his secluded little nook of paradise. It is not too long before he is beginning to drift towards sleep that Petunia lets out a miserably warbled bark at the tree line. Sam blinks once, then twice, as he sees a bubble-like space ship float down from the sky to land right before the tree line, not but a hundred yards or so away from his little cottage.

 

“What the…”

 

A very tall, male figure steps out from the ship and begins to walk in his direction. Thinking that he is dreaming already, Sam does not fret too much. Aliens are not real, but as the guy gets closer and closer, Sam starts to doubt himself. The male figure is definitely not human, but looks human so it is very odd. He is too thin, but not unhealthy and his skin is an odd shade of pale, but his eyes seem normal enough…a really startling blue.

 

“Please don’t be alarmed…I am what you think I am, but I’m not here to hurt you. I’d just like to talk.”

 

What could a little conversation hurt anybody? If he was crazy, would it matter if he talked to a real alien or a fake one? Heck, he already talks to a deaf dog! So Sam invited the non-human guy to sit on his porch and commune for awhile. He could use the company anyways. Petunia was not much of a conversationalist anymore, and the fact that she did not growl at this alien creature meant he could not be lying about being friendly. Petunia is pretty good and figuring out whether or not someone is friend or foe. He probably was not even real! Just a silly figment of his imagination run wild due to the moonshine sloshing in his belly.

 

The alien sat down, and both men enjoyed a silence for a little while, staring up at the stars. Sam thought it only proper to offer him a sip of moonshine, as per the custom of any mountain man who considered himself somewhat civil, but the alien declined. From a fanny pack he had about his waist, he instead pulled out a can of orange soda, popped it open and took a long swig. With a satisfied sigh, he smiled at Sam. It was all very weird to Sam in the beginning and since he assumed his new alien friend was not sure how to get a proper conversation started, he asked him who he was…

 

“So, uh…feller…what…er…uh…who are you?”

 

The alien pondered the question for a moment and then pondered his companion. It was an unlikely sort of circumstance, but he began anyways,

 

“My name is Garviora Jyn-Kai. I was born over a three millennium ago in a universe trillions of light-years away from yours. In the middle of this universe is the Nekteai Nebulla and in the very center is a massive planet that was given the name Junariam by ancient ancestors at the time of its birth by the great Yel-weia. These ancestors reside in the Santum " their subconsious minds kept separate from withered shells. They rule over my people " a species of great Travelers who have claimed the privilege by Yel-weia to bestow life or death in other universes. We are scientists and explorers with an insatiable hunger to know all physical, spiritual and mental concepts. It is why we observe the universes assigned to us in order to gauge its worthiness of life.”

 

“So, you are like our gods?” Sam was intrigued now. True or not, this guy sure spun a great story. Or perhaps this was all in his head which would make him the great story-teller, but musing on that hurt his muddled brain, so he just listened.

 

“In a sense…” Garviora continued. “Each millennium, a new universe is formed by the great Yel-weai " Founders of the Multi-Verse. And when the universe is formed, they gift life to one planet and place this planet, its inhabitants and its surrounding galaxies under the observation of a High See-er. A High See-er must be of blood descendant of an Ancient, and I am one such See-er, so perhaps we are what you would consider gods…Anyways, fifteen thousand years ago, I was placed on observation of a new planet breathed into a galaxy milky with stars: Earth. I did not give you that name. You named yourselves, as we all do. My first travels were exciting and promising. You progressed so quickly. Where some newest species never excelled beyond a primitive state and were soon destroyed in mercy, I was proud to send my logs and data to the Santum of your progressing in knowledge and health " both physical and spiritual " each hundred years. Before long, you were beginning to advance every decade.”

 

“Mmm…hmm…Some of us more than others too. I’m a proud American, Sir…I can guarantee ya this little fact right here…Americans is where ya find yer best Earth-people.”

 

“Perhaps…Americans do seem to have a proficiency in certain areas of development….But you see, each High See-er, each Traveler finds a particular interest in one aspect of life our assigned planets. For many, their focus lies in science. For others, technology. For some still, techniques of war and religion. Your species is so understanding of all these things. I must admit that for a time I was tempted. You have such aptitude for war! Something Americans seems to have mastered, honestly…I could very well write for centuries on such aptitudes. Such ability for destruction! But, my passions rest elsewhere. All creatures have potential for amplified violence, and I was hoping to not focus on a fact that may lead to your doom. I have grown found of you, you see. The fact that you are gaining proficiency does not matter. What amazes me is your ability to rebuild and with each reconstruction of yourselves, you alter your culture.” Garviora took a long sip of his orange soda and sat for a couple seconds enjoying the flavor before continuing his explanation to this somewhat primitive human. He was doubtful that the creature could really understand all that he was sharing. If he had not been so longing for some type of interaction physically with their species, he may have resisted, but this one was safe; harmless. No doubt, he considered him nothing more than a dream.

 

“Uh huh…”

 

“You see, you change your foods, clothes, hair, faces, bodies, sports. Of course, each species has these things. As a childling, I played games that my ancestors had played. But you " Earthlings " have a knack for spicing things up! In the early centuries, I would come to you only to be surprised, and so much so that I have now found myself a permanent resident in order to not miss the fluctuations. There is so much to learn! I had feared when first being assigned to you. The Yal-weai, in their infinite wisdom, had gifted your air " the foundation of your souls " with a certain darkness that I was sure would destroy you and thus destroy what had become my life’s purpose: studying you. Though the possibility still lingers in the balances, you remain resilient. My time living amongst you for the past century has taught me to most appreciate your food. So many delicacies! Rarely do I crave Borkvorian slug in bakta sauce when I sit to dine on cookies and Orange Soda.”

 

“Orange soda? Come now, don’t jest…No body in their right mind would prefer orange over root-beer or something stronger, ya hear?” Sam jiggled his half-empty shine jug with a sloppy grin on his face.

 

“Well yes, I perceive that Orange Soda may be your redeeming invention. Perhaps, it is your greatest. Now, now, I understand the importance of space shuttles and cars and cellular phones, but the science and love that is involved in the making of Orange Soda maintains my faith in your world to overcome violence and damages of religion. Orange " the bubbles sooth the soul and the flavor is unknown in my world. It is a taste so Devine that I would deny my ancestors and the Yel-weai my devotion if they were to destroy such a marvel. But I must breath in order to prevent blasphemy. You would label such as sinful or “to-die-for”, and I would ardently agree. Until your minds developed the ability to create such delicacy in a liquid state, I had my doubts of your ability to sustain an inhabitable system….”

 

“Wait…so yer saying that you would have destroyed Earth if we hadn’t invented orange soda because it’s yer favorite?”

 

“Mmm…Mhm.”

 

Sam blinked at the alien " a look of curiosity and dumbfounded-ness on his simpleton face.

 

“Well if this isn’t all the damndest things I’ve ever did hear.” He let out a big, snort-giggled laugh and nudged Petunia. “This alien is crazy, Petunia…Simply crazy! Or maybe, I’m crazy…Hahaha, who cares?” With this last exclamation, Sam toppled over in his chair and passed out next to his now-snoring bloodhound. Garviora sat on the porch for awhile after their odd conversation, finishing his soda pop. The bubbles and the breeze were soothing and he once again realized how much he loved the planet he had been assigned to understand. Humans will never cease to amuse him.

UFOalienphotographer

 


© 2016 R. L. Hill



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Reviews

You have a stellar imagination my friend. Truly...brilliant!

:) Julie

Posted 3 Years Ago


Fanta! Sorry, couldn't resist. Fanta is my favorite source of orange soda, though Crush is tasty as well.

Now I wish there was Fanta in the fridge...

Posted 3 Years Ago


Oh how I love this because I think orange soda is amazing.. what an interesting reason to keep the Earth -and us- alive though. Orange soda it makes the world go round! That'd be a really good sales pitch if everyone knew.

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A seeker of the universe needs little more than orange soda to be fulfilled. It's a beautiful thing.

Posted 3 Years Ago


You are so talented my friend.Your stories and poems are always so well detailed and thought out."Thank god for orange soda" is all I can say :)

Posted 3 Years Ago


R. L. Hill

3 Years Ago

Hahaha! Thank god indeed!
Vidya Bacchus

3 Years Ago

Hahaha ................:)
This is a wonderful...amazing little write.
You brought it all to life.
You have an excellent knack for this Quirklet..
Enjoyed it much.
Scott

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

R. L. Hill

3 Years Ago

Thank you hun
Scott Metro

3 Years Ago

:)
Scott....

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Added on January 10, 2014
Last Updated on May 4, 2016


Author

R. L. Hill
R. L. Hill

San Antonio, TX



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"If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it." ~Anais Nin ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.. more..

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