is it too late to humbly request an accidental abduction au plz? Also happy birthday!
This is like herding cats. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched his alien sister-in-law pick up every single item of produce, sniff it, and then set it back down. Stan wasn’t much better; thanks to him, the shopping cart was rapidly filling up.
“Angie, please,” Ford said desperately as Angie licked a lemon. She looked up at him. “Honestly, you cannot tell me that this is how you shop on your home planet,” he whispered. Angie cocked her head.
“No, but it’s the typical method on primitive planets.”
“Are you…are you saying that Earth is primitive?” Ford asked. Angie chuckled.
“Of course it is! You didn’t realize that?”
“Yeah, Sixer, get with the program,” Stan said loudly. He had returned from another aisle he’d run off to while Ford watched Angie grope the vegetables and fruits. “Earth’s primitive. Deal with it.”
“Ugh.” Ford frowned at Stan. “What do you have?”
“Beer!” Stan said cheerfully, holding up the case in his hand. “And uh, yeast.” He tossed a small packet into the cart.
“What is yeast?” Angie asked, setting down the lemon and picking up the packet. She frowned at it.
“It’s an ingredient in bread,” Stan answered.
“But what is it?”
“It’s…” Stan looked at Ford. “Wanna help me out?”
“Yeast is a microorganism that performs a crucial step in the breadmaking process by causing it to rise,” Ford rattled off. Angie dropped the yeast packet in the cart, a look of horror on her face.
“You eat microorganisms?” she demanded loudly. “On purpose?!”
“Ang, keep it down,” Stan hissed. “Or did you forget that we don’t want to attract attention?”
“Plenty of people here are loud,” Angie said dismissively.
“Yeah, but none of them are over six feet tall and have pink hair!”
“You said you liked my height and hair,” Angie said. Stan rolled his eyes.
“I do, but it sticks out on Earth, babe. You know that,” he said. Angie’s human disguise was better than Fiddleford’s, but she was still visibly different. Her eyes were mismatched; one was silver and the other was a soft blue. Her hair was a mixture of caramel and magenta, and she towered over both Stan and Ford. In short, if anyone got suspicious of her odd behavior, they might come to the correct conclusion: Angie wasn’t of this Earth.
“Hmph.” Angie shook her head. “The question still stands. You consume microorganisms on purpose?”
“The yeast gets killed when the bread bakes,” Ford said.
“Still! You utilize microorganisms to cook!”
“Yeast is used in more than just baking,” Ford corrected. “It’s also used in fermentation.” Angie’s mismatched eyes widened.
“You- you ferment things? On purpose? And then consume them?” she croaked.
“Well, yes. Without fermentation, we wouldn’t have alcohol like the beer Stan is holding.”
“Wh- Stanley, keep whatever that is far away from our daughters,” Angie said.
“I was planning on it,” Stan said. “Alcohol’s not for kids their age.”
“Alcohol…what do you mean by that?” Angie asked.
“Ethanol,” Ford said. Angie put her head in her hands.
“Humans…consume…ethanol.” She dragged her hands down her face. “I don’t understand this planet! You poison yourselves for recreation?”
“Poisoning is going a bit far,” Stan said. Ford shrugged.
“It’s fairly accurate, actually.” He cleared his throat. “Are we ready to go back to the cabin?”
“Now that I grabbed the beer, yeah.” Stan headed for the door, whistling merrily.
“Excuse me, sir?” Stan looked over. An employee stood nearby, watching him suspiciously. “You need to pay for that.”
“I know,” Stan said, rolling his eyes.
“But…you were just about to leave,” the employee said slowly. Stan raised an eyebrow.
“And?” he grunted. Ford cleared his throat, drawing both Stan and the employee’s attention.
“Stanley, the check-out is over here,” he said. Stan frowned at him. A moment passed. Stan’s face suddenly went slack. He looked down at the case of beer he was holding, set it down on a nearby stand of packaged donuts, and exited the store. Ford scowled.
That was a rather immature response to being caught committing a crime. Angie tapped on his shoulder. He looked over, then up.
“We should purchase our items,” Angie said smoothly. “Lead the way.”
-----
When Ford and Angie left the store, burdened by multiple bags of groceries, Stan was sitting on the sidewalk in front, his head in his hands.
“Are you all right?” Ford asked. Stan grunted wordlessly. Ford sighed. “I understand you’re upset you got caught trying to shoplift, but-”
“I wasn’t trying to shoplift,” Stan said, raising his head.
“What is ‘shoplift’?” Angie asked, politely bemused.
“Stealing from a store,” Stan supplied.
“Ah.” Angie’s eyes widened. “You can do that on Earth?” she gasped. Ford looked at his sister-in-law.
“What do you mean? Does shoplifting not exist on your home planet?” he asked. Angie shook her head.
“Shoplifting isn’t a thing back home,” Stan said. Ford tried to not be hurt by the reminder that Stan thought of an alien planet, not Earth, as his proper home. “Neither is checking out.”
Angie did seem a bit confused at check-out, but I chalked that up to her home planet likely having more technologically advanced registers.
“Basically, when you go in a store, you grab the things you want, and then you leave,” Stan said tiredly. “When you leave, the door scans your items and ID, and automatically takes money out of your bank account to pay for the stuff you got. I haven’t…” Stan ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “I haven’t gone up to a register in years, let alone paid with cash.” Angie let out a soft tsk of sympathy. She took the bags from Ford.
“I’ll handle the groceries,” she said softly. “I am unable to help when he is upset about Earth matters.” Ford nodded. He walked over to Stan and sat down next to him.
“You…forgot how purchases work on Earth?” he asked quietly. Stan closed his eyes. “Stanley, I understand you’ve lived the better part of a decade on a different planet, but you’ve still spent the majority of your life here.”
“Yeah, well,” Stan mumbled, “I spent those ten years doing my best to forget Earth.” Ford’s eyes widened.
“Why?”
“‘Cause…” Stan sighed. “It made leaving Earth easier.”
“You…” Ford paused for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. “You really entrenched yourself in the other planet’s culture, didn’t you?”
“Yep.” Stan dragged his hands down his face. “And I did too good of a job! I mean, sure, I grew up on Earth, but it’s been- it’s-” He grunted in frustration. “It’s like when I first arrived on Angie’s planet. I feel out of place. I don’t belong.” He sighed heavily. “If I don’t belong on my home planet, do I belong anywhere?”
“You’re wrong,” Ford said immediately. “You belong on Earth now just as much as you did before you were abducted.” Stan looked at him with doubt. “You may be experiencing some unexpected culture shock right now, but I’ve seen how easily you slid back into most aspects of Earth life. And quite frankly, you’re not sticking out nearly as much as you think you are.”
“Really?” Stan asked quietly. Ford nodded.
“I suspect you are simply being too hard on yourself like usual.”
“I dunno.”
“The most important thing is that you recognized what error you made, with minimal prompting.” Ford shrugged. “Should something like that happen again, I’m sure you could come up with some sort of fabricated excuse for your lapse. We are not quite old enough to claim the age card, but no one lies quite like you.” Stan grinned.
“Damn straight.” He raised an eyebrow. “How come you’re so good at this?”
“I have three children, one of whom I witnessed hatch from an egg,” Ford said dryly. “I’ve had to provide my fair share of reassurance.”
“Make sense.” Stan rubbed his eyes. “Man, I can’t believe you’re the normal one now.” He sighed again. “I need a drink.”
“I would be cautious if I were you,” Ford said slowly.
“Why?”
“Judging by Angie’s shock in the store, you haven’t had alcohol in almost ten years. Your tolerance will likely be incredibly low.”
“So?” Stan grunted. “All it means is I can get drunk on less. Sounds good to me.” He stood up. Ford stood as well. “…Thanks, Sixer,” Stan said quietly. Ford smiled.
“It was no problem.”
“Yeah, well…” Stan cleared his throat roughly. “We better get back. Fiddleford was left in charge of all five kids. If we take much longer, they might set your house on fire or explode it or something.”
“My children are very well-behaved,” Ford said. Stan eyed him.
“Maybe. But mine aren’t.”
“…Point taken.”
