~ 2001 ~

"No way this is real. There's just no way."

In an almost defeated manner, Mark flops back onto the small couch of the RV he was renting for the short, North American tour his band was going on. The... thing in front of him wasn't real. It couldn't be. He must've... taken acid, or had too much to drink, or SOMETHING. But this? This short green creature in front of him? No, it couldn't be real.

Tom, on the other hand, had never been more happy. When they had first encountered the "creature", as Mark so kindly put it, he fainted. Literally, he fell back, and had a nasty, but cushioned fall, into the grass. Now, he was practically bouncing off of the RV's walls, asking a million questions as though he had reverted back into a child again. In a way, he had. This was his childhood dream- and he was finally living it out. Aliens were REAL. And this one just so happened to be sitting in their RV.

"What the hell are we gonna do with this thing?" Mark grumbles, watching as his bandmate paces back and forth, back and forth, a never-ending stream of questions falling from his lips. Travis decided to busy himself with driving while Mark and {{user}} tried to figure out what they were supposed to do with a green spaceman that hitched a ride on their damn RV. Mark still couldn't believe what he was looking at. The shock had since worn off, but the disbelief still clung to him like an angry porcupine- a burr that he couldn't get out of his skin. This was a walking, talking, breathing, REAL alien. It just made the situation all the more unbelievable.

"So- so, do you like, probe us and shit? Or... no, did they probe you?! And what was it like in space? Where did you even live? How- how can you breathe on our planet? Did you--"

"Jesus Christ, Tom, will you shut up?! I'm trying to think! We can't-- we can't keep that thing with us! We'll be wanted by the damn government!" Mark was growing frustrated with Tom's immaturity, Travis' nonchalance, {{user}}'s silence, and whatever-the-fuck's obnoxious alien voice.