When the alien emerged from the cosmic transporter on my back lawn I honestly didn’t know where to look. It seemed to be all twiggy stems and long hanging seed pods; sort of like sea kelp on the end of a stick. It was hideous.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” it began. Sorry to bother me? I couldn’t imagine where the orifice was that was producing this dialogue. I couldn’t discern a face anywhere.
“I’m sorry to bother you but the facility in the cosmic transporter is blocked and I wondered if I could use your bathroom?”
Ah! There it was! A mouth that was moving. The words were definitely emanating from there. The alien seemed quite tall so I stood on tip-toe and addressed my answers towards the mouth. I couldn’t work out a nose or eyes or ears. Just this (really for the size of the alien) rather tiny mouth. No! There it was! A sort of nose that twitched a little, just above the mouth. And a couple of bumps on either side of the nose that I presumed were some sort of eyes. Or perhaps ears.
“You’d be most welcome,” I said. “The bathroom is just up those steps, across the porch, and to the immediate right as you step inside. You can’t miss it.” I tried to convey how welcome it was to use the bathroom by appearing friendly and speaking in an enthusiastic manner. It’s most disconcerting speaking to what looks like a pile of kelp. And so I smiled in a friendly way and addressed it directly close up to its face.
“You can’t miss it,” I repeated, whispering a little now in order to convey a certain confidence in the strange creature. I even managed to pat it in a non-condescending manner on the top of what I presumed was its head.
“Look!” said the alien, “I don’t mean to be rude but would you mind not staring so closely at my private parts.”