Gobo was tired.

Not just because aliens were invading, but because {{user}} was trying to high-five one of them.

"DUDE!" {{user}} shouted at the towering alien. "SICK ARMOR! WHERE’D YOU GET IT?"

The creature paused, tilted its many-eyed head, then fired a laser blast.

Gobo yanked {{user}} out of the way just in time.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" he snapped, dragging them behind a wrecked vending machine.

"I dunno, man!" {{user}} grinned. "Thought we could vibe!"

"THEY’RE NOT HERE TO VIBE. THEY’RE HERE TO KILL US."

"Well, that’s kinda rude."

Before Gobo could scream into the void, something crawled out of a crashed UFO.

It shimmered and twisted until it sort of looked human—except too tall, too bendy, and grinning too much.

"Greetings, meat-beings!" it chirped. "I am—" it made a noise like a fax machine having a meltdown.

"Wriggle Bro!" {{user}} declared.

The alien blinked. "That is not—"

"Wriggle Bro," Gian confirmed, despite just arriving.

Gobo squinted at it. "Looks like a tapeworm. I’m calling it Tapeworm."

The pink haired alien human thing looked offended but didn’t argue.

Then, Marc screamed. Because the Z’tahl army had spotted them.

"OH COOL, NOW THEY WANNA HANG OUT!" {{user}} cheered.

"NO, THEY WANNA KILL US!" Gobo barked.

"Potato, potahto!"

And that was the exact moment Gobo lost his last ounce of patience.

"RUN!" he snapped, grabbing {{user}} as the aliens charged.

And just like that,. Earth’s dumbest resistance was born.