Found in Translation

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“What is your name?” I asked.

“Failure to fit the pattern of logical and valid sentences which can exist in this universe,” croaked the grey wet blob through the translation grid.

“Isn’t that a bit pompous of you?” I said. “Can’t you just tell me what your name is?”

“I just did.”

“Oh.”

£

“Define and describe your entire atomic structure, thought pattern and history of existence,” sang the fragile-looking alien, slowly raising its weird, sticky appendages, through the language-conversion contraption.

I dripped and soaked and croaked the information at it.

“That is blobbingly miscorrect of you,” it sang. “Can you not please define and describe your entire atomic structure, thought pattern and history of existence?”

“I just did.”

“Oh.”

£

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