Cincinnati Chili: Ornament
“Herpezoids are looking for a home,” Gwen told him. “They need to blend in on Earth as humans. This is done through DNA morphers.”
“We just want a place, mate.” Legend held the Cincinnati chili to his snout and sniffed. “So, this isn’t a form of DNA morpher, then?
“I don’t think so.” Gwen hung her head.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Grover said. He stood and walked to the center of the room, careful not to get too close to the other Herpezoids who were enjoying the fondue and what looked like a nice punch. “Someone has to try it.”
Grover couldn’t ascertain from where this assertive behavior was coming. He was surrounded by alien life form and, after a few moments of extreme and justified anxiety, he could roll with it. The awe was still, but it was now paired with a renewed sense of purpose. If an alien could transform into a human, he wanted to see it.
Legend stood and addressed the others. “Any takers?”
None came forward. Most of the horde shuffled about and murmured about nothing in particular. One of the Herpezoids fiddled with a medal on his vest that Grover thought looked like a Christmas ornament.
“I’m frightened,” the alien admitted, still messing with the medal. “What if it doesn’t work? Or worse, what if it has side effects like death or an annoying rash?”
“You do it.” Gwen stood and approached Legend. “It may be the only way we can truly be together.”
Grover felt his mouth fall open. “I’m sorry, what?”