Free First Contact by Evan Mandery

“If you like The Simpsons so much, then enough with this derivative banter.”
    “The part about Sting was original.”
    “Inadequate. The central thrust was the General Tso thing. That was derivative.”
    “ The Simpsons have covered just about every funny thing there is in the universe.”
    “There’s a South Park episode to that effect. That’s a funny idea—that there’s nothing original to laugh about.”
     
    J ESSICA AND R ALPH DID not and could not know about the Spinocoli, one of the most ancient species in the universe, a race of monkey-like creatures who, aside from occasional lemonade breaks, spend their waking hours typing compulsively and randomly. Over the eons, they have written everything imaginable, including Hamlet —twice—the Koran , and a comedy routine, beloved on the planet Rigel-Rigel, about a man who shot a moose.
     
    “I THINK EVERYTHING HAS happened before,” Ralph said. “I think everything we experience has been experienced by someone else somewhere in the universe—every grief has been endured, every idea has been explored, every joke has been told.”
    Ralph took a bite of food, chewed thoughtfully, and continued. “But that doesn’t make the experience any less meaningful to us. It doesn’t make the joke any less funny—just told, not unfunny. That people have experienced the same things before doesn’t diminishthe quality of our experience or our ability to enjoy life. The mistake is to pretend these things haven’t happened before, that we are somehow unique. That’s too arrogant. Really, it’s just a matter of perspective.”
    Someone else might have found this speech a bit melodramatic or juvenile, but Jessica had fallen in love with Ralph, as he had fallen in love with her, and she hung on his every word.
    “One thing I take from that is we should enjoy every moment to the maximum.”
    “I agree with that in the abstract,” Ralph said, “but I haven’t practiced that principle. I worked too hard when I was in school, and I work too hard now. When you work at the White House, it becomes your entire universe, and everything in it seems profoundly important. Every day is like life and death. I never used to think of myself as being so serious, but working here I have a powerful sense of duty.”
    “To get the President his lunch,” she said with a smirk.
    “Exactly.”
    “Well, how about just for tonight we act as if the world is going to end tomorrow?”
    “It could happen,” Ralph said. “The aliens are lurking in orbit as we speak.”
    “Don’t worry,” Jessica said. “They have good intentions.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I just am.”
    “Are you one of these people who thinks things always work out for the best?”
    “Not always,” Jessica said, “but mostly.”
    “I don’t understand that,” Ralph said.
    “What’s not to understand?”
    “Well, what evidence is there to suggest things always work out for the best?”
    Jessica shrugged. “What evidence is there things work out for the worst?”
    “I’m not sure that’s the only alternative,” Ralph said.
    “Isn’t it?” asked Jessica.
    Jessica reached across the blanket and touched him on the lips with her index finger. “How would the Secret Service feel about us making out on the President’s carpet?” she whispered.
    Ralph gently kissed her lips. “I told you,” he whispered. “The pralines block video transmission.”
    She started to sing softly. “I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”
    “Tiffany?” he asked.
    “Tommy James & the Shondells,” she said, and as night fell on the White House, Ralph and Jessica shared their first kiss.

6
WORKING IN THE LAB LATE ONE NIGHT
    P ROFESSOR J OHN F ENDLE -F RINKLE’S EVENING of research in theoretical physics began like most: by removing wet laundry from his desk. This had been a “socks and underwear” day in the Fendle-Frinkle household. The