Free Intergalactic Terrorist (New Dimension Book 1) by J. F. Monahan Page B

bones. His eyes blurred. Saliva drooled from his mouth like a slobbering dog. It wasn’t just his mouth that began leaking liquid. Every orifice in his lardy body began to leak with a number of unmentionable and unthinkable fluids. Boils rose and burst on his skin. His eyeballs burst. His testicles burst. His head burst!
        Charlie watched in grotesque horror as Geoffrey George, King George of King George’s Electrical Repairs, began to melt before his eyes. Thick blobs of Geoffrey slopped onto the floor, dripping like fat from a burger. Soon all that was left of the once successful businessman was a quivering mass of fluid on the floor, bubbling and steaming. Charlie’s mouth hung open in the shock of what he had just witnessed. It was like putting a child’s plastic doll in a microwave… or a playboy bunny.
        “What the hell was that?” Charlie shouted as Greebol picked out a large shovel from the small drawer and began to scoop up the remains of the man. “What did you do to him?”
        “I have turned him into fuel!” beamed Greebol.
        “Fuel?” Charlie screamed. “He was a man! A man Greebol… not bloody fuel!”
        “One person’s pet pig is another person’s Sunday dinner.”
        “What?” Charlie continued. “What do pigs have to do with anything? True Geoffrey George was a bit of a pig both in looks and attitude but he was still a man! And you didn’t eat him… you melted him! I could understand it more if you ate him!”
        “Please,” chuckled Greebol, “I am a vegetarian.” The grey skinned alien opened the tube at the side of the room and poured the liquefied remains of Geoffrey inside. At once they merged with the green liquid within and power returned to the electrical. The lights all flashed and the room lit up like that bright light the dentist uses to stare inside your mouth.
        Charlie covered his eyes from the lights and headed towards the door.
        “Let me out!” he shouted. “Let me out of here right now you crazy, sick, cycle short wearing freak!”
        Greebol was stunned. The last time anyone had spoken to him like that was his ex-wife. She called him sick as well. Greebol never really understood why. He thought the things he was doing with Lousina the one-eyed prostitute were quite beautiful and moving. Some would call it art. However his ex-wife was a May’orn, a species that didn’t believe in the joys of love making. It is said that they conceive at opposite sides of the room when the male shouts ‘catch!’
        “You cannot leave Charlie,” Greebol almost begged, “we are friends! I thought you might… you know… stay!”
        Charlie tried to hold back a choke but failed and choked. “Stay?” he gagged. “Stay here? On this pile of junk ship? With you? There are too many reasons to mention why that is so not a good idea! The main one being that you are an alien!”
        “I don’t appreciate being called an alien Charlie.”
        “Another reason… you just killed a man!”
        “The word alien really hurts my feelings Charlie. You have to understand… I am an emotional being.”
        “And then there are those three frozen people in the back!” Charlie stopped. He had said too much.
        “So… you have been snooping?” asked Greebol.
        Charlie panicked. “Not snooping,” he said, his voice shaky, “I just got lost.”
        “Ah yes… when you were looking for the bathroom .”
        “That’s right,” Charlie lied. The guilt was written all over his face. Obviously not literally as that would have been a foolish thing for a liar to do.
        Greebol stepped over to Charlie and leaned in, until his large nostril almost touched Charlie’s nose. “If you wanted a tour of my electrical,” he said, “all you needed to do was ask.”
        “I’ll remember that… for next time,” the scruffy haired man stuttered. The curious side of his nature took