Free First Contact by Walter Knight

to say. “What the hell?”
    “ You were both heaven and hell,” gushed Velvet-Sting, pawing insatiably at Smooth. “I never knew you humans and your machines were so magnificent! You did not even die, like everyone expected.”
    “ Everyone?”
    “ We have gone viral.”
    “ No! Do you have penicillin?”
    “ Database viral, you silly human fur ball,” explained Velvet-Sting, playfully poking Smooth on his arm. A trickle of blood dripped to the seat.
    “ Ouch!” responded Smooth, drawing away.
    As the Toyota Pride sprinted toward the finish line, a large American buffalo darted across the roadway. Reflexively, the rover blasted the buffalo in half with its laser, sliding through the slick gore to victory. Spectators swarmed the Toyota Pride, pounding on the glass trying to get a better look at the driver. A red -sashed scorpion grand marshal carrying a large gold trophy, presented himself to Smooth as cameras zoomed in.
    “ You are disqualified for poaching Smokey the Bear’s pet buffalo, a capital offense here in the Scorpion City Autonomous Region. Human Smooth Johnson, you are under arrest!”
     
    * * * * *
     
    As the Scorpion City National Guard swarmed the Toyota Pride, the grand marshal proudly handed the winner’s trophy to the next driver crossing the finish line. Me.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Smooth Johnson was summarily tossed into a jail cell with one other human, a scraggly looking sort named Alonzo Gore. Gore had obviously been rotting in the dungeon a while. He crouched in the corner, shielding his eyes from the sudden burst of sunlight. Solemnly Gore lit a candle. “Welcome to Hell, fellow traveler,” greeted Gore. “What are you in for?”
    “ Poaching, but I was framed,” answered Smooth, pacing. “You?”
    “ Fire code violations.”
    “ Oh, you’re a Democrat,” commented Smooth, backing away, leery of what those unstable types might do next. “Be careful with that candle. I can’t believe they really let you play with matches.”
    “ I keestered my stash,” advised Gore conspiratorially. “They arrested me for lighting my candle at the death penalty protest. Did you know the scorpions impose the death penalty for most offenses, even poaching?”
    “ Yeah, it’s messed up. How do I get out? I want a lawyer.”
    “ You get nothing. I haven’t eaten in days.”
    “ What? I’m starving. When is lunch?”
    “ Ha! We’re on the menu.”
    As if on cue, two scorpion jailers came down the stairs, noisily clanking their keys. One jailer banged his nightstick on the bars. “Heads white meat, tails dark,” he announced, flipping a quarter high into the air and catching it. “Heads!”
    Gore threw a wooden food dish and liquid at the scorpions as they rushed the cell, stinging Gore into submission and dragging him away.
    “Hey!” shouted Smooth, rattling the bars. “I want my phone call! When can I post bail?”
    “ You will see the judge soon enough,” answered a jailer, smirking lewdly. “Then you will be toast!”
    “ I love human toast,” remarked the other scorpion. “Tastes crunchy like Chick-fil-A.”
    “ Personally, I prefer KFC’s original recipe,” advised his partner. “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.”
    “ I’ll sue! I’ll have your jobs! Hey! You hear me? I have constitutional rights!”
     
    * * * * *
     
    Scorpion City Superior Court was crowded with hooligan defendants from the New Gobi 1000 celebration. I was present with Legion attorney Eugene Depoli because during the post race melee, Private Walter Knight got arrested for possession of Yartsa without a permit, a capital offense in the Scorpion City Autonomous District, and all national parks.
    “ Order in the Court!” announced the bailiff. “All stand! Here comes the Judge, the Honorable Hang ’em High Black-Sting presiding.”
    Judge Hang ’em High Black-Sting suspiciously scanned the crowded courtroom for troublemakers and reporters. There was not much difference between the two, and