Christy Rozek--Assignment #4--Alien Invasion

As I stepped out of my UFO, I felt like everyone was staring at me. I walked down the ramp, my motorcycle boots making a rough noise on the steel. Before I took my first step on this foreign world, I thought about how completely awesome it is, finally meeting another species, just in our same galaxy. I stepped off the ramp, bowed and said through my universal translator “greetings from Earth.”
A while later, I was cozied-up by a slime fountain, having a cup of bubble-tea with the Plutonian ambassador. She was definitely a woman, which shocked me, because I always imagined that life on other planets would be far different from ours. I said to her “Thank you so much for your tremendous hospitality, we on Earth never could have dreamed of coming to another world only to be greeted as old friends.” She gave a slight nod and thought for a moment. “Well, I suppose we really are old friends in a way, here on Pluto, we’ve known for many generations that our planet and yours started as one sphere. We don’t know why, but 300 millions years ago they split apart; Earth went careening towards the center of the galaxy, and you were gracefully swept into a closer orbit around the sun. Pluto was flung into the reaches of the milky way, only to be brought back and established on the perimeter of the solar neighborhood.” In deep thought, I stroked where a goatee would be if I had one, “This is very surprising to me, on Earth we are able to observe much of your planet, but we can never reach into your history books, or your fables.”
We walked side by side in the Mystical Gardens of the Global Plutonion Conservatory. “Now what did you say this is called, again?” She plucked a flower from a navy blue stem, extending the shimmering peddles towards me so I could take in the aroma “it’s called a Posiemat, they’re one of our most common variety of weed, they’re comparable to the dandelion of Earth.” I looked around, trying to take in every moment of this. I pointed to a flower, which grew, give or take a centimeter, exactly twelve-inches above ground. The ambassador earlier told me about these plants; upon maturation, the petals change color from a tufty-white into a brilliant gold. During the course of precisely 36-hours they spiral down around the crimson stem until they barely brush against the soil. Here there are ants, a lot like the ones back home, and when the petals brush the Pluto, these ants travel to the top of the flower and make their colony in its center. At the same time, we both said “these Antallamora flowers are my favorite.” The ambassador continued, “here on Pluto we have a festival celebrating the Antallamora, it’s quite a bit like the Religious holidays that you told me about on Earth, except this is a far more serious affair.”