The transportation authority’s office for teleportation mishaps swelled.
The disintegration ray somehow worked on his marriage.
The Wild West show featured aliens for “spice”.
“Dance!” the alien yelled and clapped his tentacles.
The robot went crazy, baking thirty-seven different pies.
What if the aliens gave us their “spam”?
“Intergalactic Senate!” “Three guys and a couch?” “Absolutely!”
She wondered if he’d ever really be real.
“The galactic empire demands recompense for canned cheese.”
Sarah stared at the alien. “You want lawyers?”
Complaints about teleportation mishaps came in small boxes.
The T-Rex stomped the zombies till it feasted.
He jumped between the robot and the EMP.
The robot absorbed the explosion to save her.
The zombie dinosaurs overwhelmed the pitiful human defenses.
“Tourists,” the tentacled ungulate muttered after the human.
Robots planned as they toured the White House.
The orb hovered close, “Want fries with that?”
The lake froze over the spaceship till spring.
She wept. There were no worlds to conquer.