There was a strange smell coming from the refrigerator. At first Hank thought it was a piece of pizza, but he moved the old jars around and found nothing. Not that it was likely he’d forget a piece of pizza.
Hank took a can of beer over to his favourite chair, sat himself down and switched on the T.V. The fridge hadn’t been cleaned for a while. Sally, his ex-roommate’s girlfriend, would often march around cleaning up, complaining about the pizza boxes, empty Dorito packets and half-eaten Oreos that Hank left around the apartment. He missed Sally sometimes.
Man, that smell was bad, Hank thought, throwing a pretzel into the air and catching it in his mouth. He’d clean the fridge tomorrow, he decided, leaning forward to watch the fighting championship.
Hank forgot to clean the fridge the next day, and the day after. It was over a month later that he covered his nose as he took out another beer. And there, behind the Budweiser, he saw a strange green creature.
“Thank you,” it rasped telepathically, “For providing us with the ideal conditions for arrival on this planet. Take us to your leaders immediately.”
Hank clutched his beer. His jaw dropped as he saw the millions of bizarre aliens who had colonized his refrigerator.
* * * * *