It’s a little known fact that, quite a few of mankind’s scientific advancements were made, not by rigorous science, but by the efforts of enthusiastic amateurs. It’s also a well known fact that alcohol, the drive for utterly stupid male posturing, and the desire to go fast have lead to significant breakthroughs on their own.

Planet Murghral

General Graghd was yanked from his rest by the sudden alarm of the planetary defense grid.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he swung out of bed and stumbled over to his command console, fighting his drowsiness as he went. Tapping a few commands, he pulled up the report, but it was utterly nonsensical. Nothing made sense. Groaning, he picked up the phone.

“Planetary defense sensor array, Sergeant Sargh. How can I help you?”

“Sergeant, this is the general. Explain this report. It had to have been sent in error.”

“Ah. Well, ummm. So. What had happened was…”

“Don’t you ‘what had happened was’ me sergeant! What did we pick up?”

“Sigh. Sir, we appear to have intercepted a modified ground vehicle. Entering the planetary atmosphere.”

“A ground vehicle?”

“Yessir”

“Entering the atmosphere.”

“Yessir.”

“Sergeant.”

“Uhhh, yessir?”

“Are you impaired? I swear to the nine hells, if you’ve taken the watch while intoxicated, I’ll have you court martialed so fast, your exoskeleton will have scorch marks! Ground vehicle entering the atmosphere! I oughta come down there, rip off all four of your legs, and shove them up your spinerettes! I’ll personally march down there…”

“Sir, just watch.”

The command screen flickered, then a video feed appeared, showing a group of planetary defense fighters surrounding what, indeed, could only be a wheeled ground vehicle. With paper maché wings. Taped onto the sides. As the general watched, the small vehicle swerved back and forth in the air, attempting to avoid the nearby fighters.

The craft was decidedly odd. Sleek lines in a cobalt blue chassis, with unique and attractive curves. Two lights shone from the front, in a bright white, another two from the back in a bright red. Some sort of winged, fire-feathered avian creature was emblazoned across the forward dorsal surface, just below the glass viewscreen of the craft. Four large black wheels spun in the air underneath it, and within the craft, the general could just make out two strange faces, screaming in utter terror.

“What in the blue hell?” He muttered. “Sergeant, see if you can get me a transmission inside the craft.”

“Sir, yessir. Translator has been applied.”

-Awww sheeyit, Ernie, it’s the cops! Ah told you ta dump the moonshine out the winder!-

-(unintelligible grumbling) moonshine out ma cold deyad hands godammit (unintelligible grumbling) look lahk no cops I ever seen afore. Hit the gas Andy.-

-iont think we can loose em uncle Ernie. How do ah stop this dang thing?-

-(grunt) ah didn’t think about that. Left the damn chutes in the shed.-

-sheeyit! I’m hittin the breaks, but ain’t nothin happenin’!-

-(unintelligible) bring her down low, ‘n’en do a donut. (Unintelligible) shud stopper raht good.-

-aight, I’m bringin er down. Hope this works unc!-

-better not fuckin scratch my goddam trans am! Nephew or not, I’ve kilt men for less!-

-here goes nothin’! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!-

-AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!-

As the small craft nears the ground, the pilot appears to be rapidly spinning the control to one side, causing the craft to spin in a way that should be impossible, leaving a large circular toroid burnt into the hardtop.

As the patrol craft swarm the craft, lights flashing, two hatches open up, one on either side. Two creatures step out, one taller and thinner, and one shorter and stouter, each with their only two hands in the air.

The general marvels at the sight, they were so strange looking. They were obviously mammaloid, scruffy fur growing from the tops of their heads, and a shorter scruff around their faces. They had only two arms, and two legs, an olfactory organ at the center of the face, with only two eyes above and a fleshy mouth below. They seemed to only wear a blue, shoulder strapped garment that covered the legs and went over the torso, but their feet were bare. The shorter one seemed to be wearing a wide-brimmed hat made of some sort of interwoven plant fibers.

“Uncle Ernie, Ah don’t think we’re in the hills nomore.”