Terry felt there was something unusual about his new coworker, Martin. For a newbie, Martin was very good at his job...too good. Terry had never seen a new line cook work so quickly. A ticket would pop up and in five minutes flat Martin would be walking to the front of the bar, two trays of barbeque chicken wings on each arm. Although he was a seasoned kitchen supervisor, Terry wasn’t nearly that fast, and at first he thought that Martin had undercooked the wings to save time. But when Terry bit into one of them, he could tell that the wing had been fried to perfection. The new guy cooked like a pro, but Terry nevertheless made sure that Martin experienced the most repulsive range of deep cleaning work, like bleaching the mop sink, and scrubbing the grease traps - and Martin had performed all these ordeals with much bravado. What’s more, Martin would knock out these chores in a fraction of the time it took Terry to complete them, and when he was done the drains and sinks were so clean it was as if no human-being had ever touched them. The general manager, whose name was Donna, could not resist needling Terry about it. “You better watch out, Terry. The new guy might be gunning for your job!” Terry laughed heartily and so did Donna. It was the type of workplace exchange that, had it been observed by an outsider, would have seemed like some inside joke between them. But there was no inside joke, and for Terry this laughter was only nervous laughter, for Terry had already begun to believe that MARTIN was a REPTILIAN. Reptilians are bloodthirsty extraterrestrials who control most political activity on this planet. Although they are much taller and look very different from people, Reptilians can hide amongst the human population due to their uncanny ability to shapeshift. But there was something troubling Terry - why would a Reptilian assume the form of quote-unquote Martin, a mere line-cook at a bar, instead of, like, the President of a country? He must be a low-ranking member of his species, Terry thought. If I can expose him or get him fired...then surely I will disrupt Their Nefarious Plan, whatever it may be...” Among kitchen staff, it is common knowledge that ice cubes and deep fryers do not mix. If someone drops a handful of ice into a deep fryer, the tiny pockets of air inside the ice will heat up too quickly and the fryer will explode. Had Martin’s extraterrestrial superiors briefed him on this nuance? Terry was not about to take the chance. He waited until Martin’s smoke break and ventured once more to the fryer area. He furtively dropped a scoopful of ice into the basket, concealing it beneath some well-placed chicken wings. He waited several minutes before punching in three orders of fried chicken wings in quick succession. Terry ran outside and screamed, “Martin, get back to work! You have orders! Get in there and drop the basket, okay? I already put the chicken in there for you!” Snickering, Terry went back to the front of the restaurant and counted to thirty. Then he found the manager, Donna, and ushered her into the back. “Martin, did you put ice in the fryer?” Martin stood there, red-handed, next to the fryer. Literally--his hands were puffy and red. Dozens of half-melted ice cubes sparkled like diamonds on the greasy kitchen floor. “No, I swear!” he said. “Someone else did that! I’m the one who got them out for chrissakes!” The manager looked from Terry to Martin to the fryer and back again. “Well, good,” she said, and walked out. As soon as she left, Martin ran to the sink and turned on the cold water. “Fuck, fuck!” he wailed in pain, but Terry saw through this act. After all, what human-being would reach into 300 degree cooking oil just to avoid being fired for his perceived negligence? If Martin had been human, he would have fled as soon as the oil began bubbling up. But as a Reptilian operative, Martin could not afford to lose this job... Terry would just have to try something else.

I don't want to go...to your show...maybe go away...if I get bored...pull it every day, stone from sword...cuz what's beautiful will be unmoored.