You people are strange.
Firstly, you are too attached to your bodies. That is, to my people, a bit of a weird trait. We are used to occupy whatever reasonable vessel which comes in our way. I said so when the technicians were dissecting that alien body in the place you call area 51, but they did not understand, for by then, instead of inhabiting that body, I was one of them. The body itself also tried to talk, but the former technician trapped inside it was too slow to learn, and they cut its head off too quickly.
Secondly, and much weirder, is – as I have quickly learned in the short time I have occupied the vessel of that technician – your concept of “marriage”.
No, I shall not go into the details. Suffice to say that I do not want to invade your planet anymore.
I absolutely deny the accusation that I have eaten Mrs. Schwatrz. It is not only grossly erroneous, but also deeply insulting. I do not eat anything living. I despise your concept of vegetarianism, for what you call “plants” are also living beings. I am, in fact, an inanimatarian, which explains a lot about me, including the fact that I did not eat, could not have eaten, Mrs. Schwartz.
In fact, she ate me.
Admittedly, right after that my crypto-cells took hold of hers and digested her from the inside, but that’s legally irrelevant. What’s more, it was not an act of mine, as I did not exist at the time of that takeover, having been previously, as I’ve just mentioned, eaten by Mrs. Schwartz. Prosecuting me is just like prosecuting a newborn baby: not only illogical, but also monstrously unjust.
Therefore I ask this court to release me at once.
Has anyone here had lunch yet? No? Want a bite of me?
We took the forms of humans and cows and dogs and cheesecakes, and thought that this would enable us to infiltrate your ranks, invade your planet and take over. By the time we’ve discovered that this caused our offspring to be only humans and cows and dogs and cheesecakes, it was already too late. So infiltration: success, invasion: success, taking over: failure. Some would say that two our of three is not bad; well, let us tell you: yes it is.
We were outgunned and outnumbered, and so we had to run. We evacuated that universe through a back door. We had no idea where it would lead us, but anything, we thought, would be better than that dreadful existence.
Oh, how wrong we were.
We suspected it would be quite bad, but failed to realize just how much. We never expected to find ourselves in this dump of a solar system. For starters, you have a sun. How old fashioned is that? It is truly offensive to the eye. And that awful, smelly gas covering half of the planets in the system… how dreadful. How… unhygienic.
But all that, distasteful as it is, can almost be forgotten when compared to the real horror we’ve found in your system: the ugly perversion you call “consciousness”. That, for us, was too much to bear. We could no longer restrain ourselves.
And thus we’ve exterminated all life from the atmosphere of the planet you name “Venus”. Then, for a very long time, and despite the fact that we could not get rid of the distasteful atmosphere, all was fine. Until you people came along.
We’ll have to get rid of you too. But not before we turn off that ugly sun of yours.
It was never my intention to invade your planet. Rather, by existing, your planet has invaded my universe. Therefore I can safely state that the offending party is your planet – you people came along only much later, and that did not make matters any better – and thus should suffer any punishment that I choose to inflict upon it.
At the moment, I tend towards using it as a sex-doll, but I might change my mind later. The galactic night is still young.
I will give you only my name, my rank and my serial number. I admit that, being of another planet, that might or might not be this very planet, I don’t actually have a name, a rank or a serial number, but I shall give them to you anyway, as a token of respect for the local folk-lore.
In return I expect that you honor our own custom and, after delivery of said information and before commencing any other exchange, commit immediate termination of all your biological activity.
For I don’t hold with the smell.