The giant stands before us sneering and growling and gnashing his teeth. At least, I think he is gnashing his teeth. I've never physically seen anyone actually gnash, so I'm speculating.
"Shit," Tony says. "What do we do now? How are we supposed to take care of that thing?"
"I say we shoot the sumbitch!" Kelly Clarskon yells and leads a barrage of Multiblaster fire from her, Mom, Dean, Kevin, and Randi. Even Kenzie joins in. The blasts bounce off the alien and manages to annoy him more than anything. He takes out the frustration of being shot by throwing the Christmas tree against the far wall. This prompts the kind of screaming from innocent bystanders that one might expect from them after a giant alien monster has destroyed a Christmas tree.
I draw a breath. I need to go to my informational happy place. Nanotech, don't fail me now. I study the orange beast closely, except for the pantsless area because I'd rather determine all I need to know about him without looking at his penis. I'm not a prude. Nudity doesn't bother me. Blah, blah, blah, and all that. I focus on his eyes. The wild rage. The specific hue of green. The nano sparks and tells me this beast is a Mrop. Hot damn.
My consciousness pulls me away from the scene and I'm floating through the library of alphabetized white three-ring binders. I weave through the shelves of binders to the section with the one that gives me information on the Mrop. I skip through all the information about origin, cultural history, and evolution, because time is of the essence. I flip ahead to the section on weaknesses and find this:
The Mrop is particularly susceptible to N'jilarian nectar. Mrops possess a low tolerance to any form of alcohol, but N'jilarian nectar renders them incapacitated. Their love language is receiving gifts, to they will accept the drink without question. One sip is all it takes. But, that stuff is extremely rare due to its notorious side effects, so good luck scoring some.
Bingo.
I snap back to reality and grab my bottle of N'jilarian nectar and run to the Mrop who is now eating presents. Mom screams at me to get away. Tony just screams incoherently.
"Hey!" I yell at the beast and he looks down at me with a grunt. "Here."
I hold the bottle up to him as the room falls silent. His expression softens and his eye brighten. He reaches down and takes the bottle and lets loose with a deep belly laugh. It's the jolliest damn thing I've ever heard. His laugh is so infectious that we all have no choice but to join in, including the previously terrified bystanders. He bites the top off the bottle and empties the contents into his significant mouth. He swallows and licks his lips and stares. His pupils dilate and his eyes glaze over.
"Everyone scatter!" I yell as the orange Mrop slowly tips over and crashes onto some tables. After a few tentative, tense seconds, the Mrop rises up and laughs again before passing out cold.
"Is it dead?" Tony asks.
"No, but we'll be able to take care of it now. Mom?"
"Kenzie," Mom says, "can you contact our folks in the lab for a clean up?"
"Hey!" Randi yells out and we all turn to see that the Head Honcho has Dean Larson around the neck. She draws her weapon.
"Let me walk out of here and we can all have it a happy holiday," the Head Honcho says. "Otherwise, this guy with the impeccable hair and rugged jawline gets hurt."
His threat is met with a shot to the head by Tony's Multiblaster. The blow allows Dean to wrestle away, creating an opening for every one of us to unload on the Head Honcho. He oozes to the floor in a slimy, gooey mess. This prompts more screaming from the innocent bystanders who are going to need their memories wiped or they will end up in extensive therapy after witnessing all of this. I walk over to the Head Honcho blob on the floor, joined by Mom, who put her hand on my shoulder.
"How?" Head Honcho asks. "How did you know N'jilarian nectar would defeat the Mrop? I didn't know that."
"You gotta do better research before carrying out a nefarious plan, dude."
The story concludes tomorrow...