This time, when the wombat came in I could tell something was seriously wrong. Last time he was a mess from his fight with the space monkeys. It had been par for the course. This time, he was limping severely and a deep wound by his rib cage was oozing blood. He grumbled angrily as he came around to my desk. I looked at him for a minute, eyeing up his condition, and I was worried that I might have to call maintenance to pick up a wombat carcass from my cube. Unfortunately, my super spatula was in the shop for a recharge and repairs due to an incident at a high-speed flapjack flipping contest.
"What are you looking at," he said.
"You don't look good," I replied and eyed the puddle of blood soaking into the carpet.
"I thought you had the space monkeys taken care of."
"I did, but they came back, in greater numbers, and this time they brought a GSM."
"What's a GSM?"
He looked at me like I was stupid. I gave him a penetrating glare that said I wasn't in the mood, I had deadlines after all, and he explained. "A GSM is a Giant Snake Monster. They come from one of the first planets that the monkeys took over. Their heads are the size of a Volkswagen van and their scaled bodies stretch on seemingly forever. Their reptilian minds are as cold as any machine and they have a nearly unquenchable thirst for blood."
"That's all you can say? 'Oh?' If you saw one you wouldn't have any clean underwear I can just about guarantee that. Besides that, the GSM plays host to any number of smaller but no less vicious creatures from the depth of space that possess the same hunger. I was one of the few that made it back."
At this he slumped down on the floor and I was really starting to worry about the stain, and the smell that wasn't getting any better. His eyes drifted closed and for a minute his breathing stopped. Then, raggedly he sucked in a great lungful and began to snore. How I wished I had that spatula so that I could at least get him outside. Fortunately I still had my Port-o-Genie 3000. I conjured up the fiery demon and told him to send the wombat back to his domicile and clean up the mess. After all, if the wombat was here reporting all this to me, he must have saved the day.
The wombat woke as his form faded away. Panic settled on his face quickly.
"You stupid human! The threat is still hovering above the planet! We got the snake, but its parasites float up there now, and without my help you are doomed."
Then it disappeared and the Port-O-Genie with it since I had just used up the 3,000th order.