Chapter six

headbanger

Deep inside the mind of neighbourhood watchman, Stu Dapples a war of wills is waging. Pale Alien Gav 6.2 is trying to control Stu’s body. Human and alien face off as both attempt to seize control of Stu’s arms, legs and other bits.

“Look mate,’ says Stu, “You don’t want this body - it’s an old dunger. It’s got too many miles on the clock, barely works in the morning, it leaks, the exhaust blows all sorts of horrid smoke…”

“I must have control of your body, earthling! Without it I can’t find the seeds!” insists Gav.

“Yeah… nah…” continues Stu, “but, I get the feeling this mission of yours is quite important, so you can borrow it, like a loan vehicle. You do the steering, and I’ll look after the gears and the brakes - I run mostly on pies and cups of tea - and then, once you’ve found the seeds or whatever, you can box on and leave me in peace, sweet as?”

And so, Gav and Stu try to operate Stu’s body as a team. To the outside eye it looks like Stu is having a slash on an electric fence. His body convulses and contorts - a little like the first time you lick a 9 volt battery, or squirt lemon juice in your eye, or walk in on your Mum and Dad doing… you know <shudder> their end of year tax return.

In the lab, Doc Beerstein and Bitta Froot are watching… fascinated.

“What should we do, Doc?”

“We wait, Bitta, we wait,” says The Prof. “Once the alien has assimilated, we can learn the secret of the seeds of hoptronica, and I can finally make the world’s greatest craft beer! But until then, we need to remove any sharp objects… this transformation is going to be an arm flailing, mouth frothing headbanger.”

“Oh ya, ‘mouth frothing headbanger,’” replies Bitta, “they are my favourite Norwegian death metal band.”