Sonny the Alien

Earth Log Entry #18: Sittin’ Unpretty

Sonny arrived at the school and went directly to the office.

He approached the secretary. “Greetings. I am here subbing for Grant Miller. Physical education.”

The secretary smiled. “Oh! You must be Sonny Lake?”

Sonny nodded. “Affirmative.”

She pointed to a clipboard. “Just sign in there, and everything you need is on the desk behind you.”

He signed in, gathered the materials, and turned back. “Can you direct me to the physical education gym?”

The secretary smiled. “Of course! Go out of the office, take a right, third hallway take a left, pass two hallways, then another right. It’ll be on your left.”

The phone rang. The secretary looked at the phone. “Sorry, I need to take this.”

Sonny nodded, and exited the office.

Ten minutes later—and with the assistance of four separate staff members—Sonny located the gym.

He entered the office. Found the desk. “This appears to be the command station.”

He set his bag down.

And then he saw the chair.

It was old. Stained. Leaning slightly to one side like it had given up on life years ago.

He circled it once. Twice. “The seat is structurally and hygienically compromised.”

He pressed a finger into the cushion. It didn’t bounce back. It absorbed.

Sonny froze. “…Unacceptable.”

He leaned closer.

There were stains. Dark ones. Light ones. Ones that had…layers.

He narrowed his eyes. “…Biological. Highly probable.”

He began to sit.

Paused mid-descent.

Then shot upright like he’d been electrocuted.

“NO.”

He stared at the chair, stroking his chin. “This command chair requires extreme measures.”

Sonny searched around the office and found a mop, a spray bottle, a roll of paper towels, duct tape, and a baseball bat.

He checked his watch. “Twenty minutes until class starts.” Then looked back at the chair. “Time is limited.”

He went to work.

Fifteen minutes later…

He stepped back.

The chair looked…better.

Not good. But survivable.

He gently set the baseball bat aside.

Then sat down. Carefully.

Slowly leaned back. Tested the structure. “Acceptable…you may live.”

Just then, a student popped his head in. “Yo, you the sub for Mr. Miller?”

Sonny nodded. “Yes I am.”

The student pointed toward a bag of dodgeballs near the entrance. “Are we playing dodgeball today?”

Sonny considered this. Then nodded. “Yes. You will be building durability, problem-solving skills, and teamwork through dodgeball.”

The kid lit up. “Yesssss!” He sprinted back into the gym.

Sonny stood, and then looked down at the chair.

He took out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Some humans neglect the structural integrity and sanitation of their seating apparatuses. I initiated an emergency repair and cleaning protocol. The chair has been subdued. Now I must avoid being maimed by flying foam balls. Safety is uncertain.

Earth Log Entry #17: Hoopus Interruptus

Sonny, Chad, and Vanessa were on the couch watching the NBA playoffs.

TV blaring. Final minutes.

Chad was standing. Vanessa was pacing.

Sonny sat on the couch, watching stoically and crunching numbers on his laptop. “The Timberwolves still have a 48% chance of winning the game.”

Vanessa glanced over. “You’ve been saying that for five minutes, Good Will Hunting.”

Sonny didn’t look up. “The probability has remained consistent.”

Chad gestured with his hands. “We’re good. A couple stops and we’re in control.”

Vanessa took a sip of her soda. “Yeah, we just gotta stop the best scorer in the league.”

Chad shrugged. “If anybody can shut him down, it’s us.”

Sonny looked up. “Win probability has dropped by four percentage points.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

They all looked to the door, then at each other.

Chad turned back to the TV. “Not a great time.”

Sonny stood up. “Someone appears to require access to us.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Oh. Hello, Dale.”

Dale sauntered in, bathrobe on. “Hey Sonny. Hey y’all. Quick question…you guys know when Chipotle closes?”

Vanessa gestured toward the TV. “Not now, Dale!”

Chad looked over. “Really bad timing, dude.”

Sonny, still at the door, folded his arms and peered at him. “This moment in time is suboptimal, Dale.”

Dale chuckled nervously and backed toward the door. “Okay…I’ll just give ’em a call.”

Sonny closed the door and sat back down.

Shot goes up.

Ball clanks off the rim.

Horn sounds.

Sonny glanced at his laptop. “…0%.”

Vanessa dropped onto the couch. “We can see that.”

Chad stood frozen, hands on his head. “…that was it.”

The door cracked open. Dale poked his head in. “Chipotle closes at 11.”

They all turned and glared at him.

Dale nodded. “Just FYI.” He closed the door.

Chad sighed. “A burrito does sound good right now, though.”

Vanessa nodded in agreement.

Sonny took out his Earth Log device and began typing.

The Timberwolves suffered a season-ending loss today. Chad and Vanessa appear emotionally compromised as a result. I will monitor their recovery. Chipotle is operational until 2300 hours. Burritos possibly mitigate the sting of devastating defeat.

Earth Log Entry #16: Getting Vertical

Chad and Sonny were on the basketball court at a local park on a Saturday afternoon, locked in during a competitive game of 2-on-2.

Chad dribbled at the top of the circle, breathing heavy, sweat soaking through his headband. “14–12. Us.”

Sonny moved effortlessly around the court. “I am open, at the left corner!” Sonny called.

Chad sent the ball over with a crisp pass.

Sonny caught it, set his feet, and released—perfect form.

Swish.

“Game!” Chad yelled, jogging over for a high five.

They shook hands with the other team and walked back to the bench.

Sonny took a long drink of water. “Who would have thought placing a leather sphere through an iron ring could be so enjoyable.”

He paused. His eyes widened. “…Chad.”

Chad stretched his hamstrings, not looking up. “Yeah?”

Sonny gestured over to the far end of the court. “That human appears to be…vertically enhanced.”

Chad glanced over. Then did a double take. “Oh. Wow. That’s Jellybean Johnson.”

Sonny blinked. “Jelly…bean?”

Chad took a sip of water. “Played for the U back in the day. Then overseas,” Chad said casually. “I heard he shows up here sometimes.”

Sonny stared. “What is his exact height?”

Chad put his water bottle down. “Seven foot. Maybe more.”

At that moment—

BOOM.

Jellybean slammed down a dunk, barely leaving the ground. The rim shook. The ball snapped through the net. A few people nearby cheered.

Sonny did not blink. “…Are we going to play him?”

Chad shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

Sonny turned slowly. “Chad, I am exactly 6 feet, 1 inch. You are exactly 5 feet, 10.23 inches.”

Chad sighed. “Thanks for calling attention to that.”

Sonny nodded gravely. “We will be reduced to cosmic dust by a man named Jellybean.”

Chad picked up his water bottle and took another drink. “Probably.”

Sonny pulled out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Humans vary greatly in height. Some reach extreme upper limits. A being known as Jellybean Johnson appears to occupy this category. Engagement is imminent. Outcome uncertain. Morale: steady.

Jellybean walked over, the basketball looking like a grapefruit in his hand. “Y’all runnin’ 2-on-2?”

Sonny looked up.

…then up more.

…then slightly stepped back to see Jellybean’s whole face.

He turned to Chad. Then back to Jellybean. “It will be a noble battle.”

Earth Log Entry #15: Animal Instinct

Sonny sat on the couch staring at his phone. Vanessa had just sent a message.

He read it again slowly. “…Chad.”

Chad looked over. “Yeah?”

Sonny didn’t look up from his phone. “Vanessa says a male human she attended middle school with has asked her to get lunch.”

Chad nodded. “Okay.”

Sonny looked over at Chad. “…okay?”

“Yeah. Old friend catching up.” Chad answered.

Sonny frowned. “Chad.”

Chad flipped the channel on the TV. “Yeah.”

Sonny sat forward and set his phone down on the coffee table. “Why would a human male invite another male’s romantic partner to consume food privately?”

Chad didn’t look away from the TV. “Because they’re old friends.”

Sonny put his hand on his chin. “I do not believe that is the complete explanation.”

Chad flipped the channel again. “What explanation do you think it is?”

Sonny leaned back, put his feet on the coffee table, and crossed his arms. “It is one-on-one time with another male.”

“Sure.” Chad said.

Sonny continued. “Private conversation increases emotional bonding.”

Chad shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Sonny pointed at his phone sitting on the coffee table. “Therefore, objectively, this situation has the potential for romantic escalation.”

Chad sat forward and looked over at Sonny. “Dude, not every interaction between men and women is a mating ritual. And it’s Firecracker…she’s going to have lots of male friends. It doesn’t mean she’s interested in them romantically.”

Sonny crossed his arms again. “Your words ring hollow in the face of territorial instinct.”

Chad continued. “I get it, dude. But she’s not going to put one over on you. I mean, she told you about it.”

Sonny sighed. “Yes. You are correct. She is certainly rooted in truth.”

Chad sat back. “There you go.”

Sonny grabbed his glass of water from the coffee table and took a slow sip. “I still feel my territory is being infringed upon.”

Chad shrugged. “Welcome to being human.”

Sonny smirked and took another sip. “Yeah. Human.”

Sonny took out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Earth romantic relationships are incredibly complex and nuanced. They also invoke a human-like territorial instinct I’ve not felt before. It is unpleasant. Being what humans call “single” was much simpler.

Earth Log Entry #14: The Suspicious Faucet

Sonny and Chad were at the mall.

Chad needed new pants for work. Sonny needed new joggers.

Sonny stopped mid-stride.

“I seem to have imbibed a bit too much hydrogen hydroxide. I am going to utilize the public restroom.”

Chad didn’t look up from his phone. “Cool. I’ll wait here.”

Sonny entered the restroom.

After successfully navigating the urinal—an achievement he had quietly begun to take pride in—he approached the sink.

And stopped.

It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Sleek. Chrome. Minimalist.

Suspicious.

No knobs. No handles. No clear way to operate it.

Sonny narrowed his large, glowing eyes.

He gently touched the top.

Nothing.

He tapped it.

Nothing.

He leaned down and inspected the underside like he was analyzing a lightspeed accelerometer.

Then stepped back.

Arms crossed. Hand on chin.

Thinking.

He approached again.

“Perhaps it requires a verbal command.”

He cleared his throat.

“ON!”

Nothing.

He tried again.

“WATER!”

Nothing.

Now louder—

“WATER, ON!”

Silence.

The door creaked open. Chad walked in.

“Dude, what are you doing? They can hear you on the other side of the mall.”

Sonny didn’t look away from the sink.

“Chad…this sink appears to be a decoy. Water does not emit from it.”

Chad chuckled. “It’s automatic, man.”

Sonny blinked.

“Automatic…what?”

Chad stepped forward, dropped his bags, and casually placed his hands under the faucet.

Water flowed instantly.

Sonny’s eyes widened. “…it recognizes you.”

Chad paused. “…what?”

Sonny leaned in. “Be honest. Have you bonded with this machine?”

Chad smirked. “Yeah, we went on a date last week. It didn’t call me back though.”

Sonny stepped closer to the sink. “Does it know your DNA?”

Chad grabbed his bags. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Sonny turned, dead serious. “Chad, you are my closest Earth ally. Tell me the truth…how does this faucet know you?”

Chad started walking out. “BRO, IT’S AN AUTOMATIC SINK.”

Sonny slowly turned back, and stared at the faucet. “I’m on to you.”

He pulled out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Chad claims certain water dispensers operate via motion detection. However, the sink responded immediately to him…and resisted me. I suspect a selective recognition system. Possibly emotionally-based. DNA may also be involved. The machine seems to be forming bonds with its users.

Sonny slowly extended his hands under the faucet.

Nothing.

He froze.

Then—

Water.

Sonny’s eyes lit up. “I HAVE GAINED ITS TRUST.”

Earth Log Entry #13: Rational Vibes

Sonny sat at the kitchen table with a laptop open, several sheets of paper spread around him, and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

Chad walked in and stopped. “What are you doing…and why is our kitchen table covered in paper?”

Sonny looked up. “I took a special subbing assignment in home economics today. The students would not stop discussing this ‘March Madness.’ I am studying it.”

Chad nodded slowly. “Okay. Respect.”

Sonny looked back at his laptop. “At first I thought it was a mental disorder caused by the shifting of the clock.”

Chad reached into the fridge. “Naturally.”

Sonny continued. “But then I learned it is a single elimination tournament for the sport of intercollegiate basketball.”

Chad grabbed a bottle of chocolate milk. “Yeah…technically speaking.”

Sonny took the pencil from his ear and pointed it at the screen. “I have reviewed team records, strength of schedule, offensive efficiency, defensive efficiency, injury reports, coaching tendencies, rebounding rates, turnover percentages, and historical upset patterns.”

Chad sat down. “Uhh…okay.”

Sonny reached out and picked up one of the pieces of paper from the table. “I have also created a weighted prediction model…I am prepared to dominate the bracket.”

Chad leaned back. “It’s that serious, huh?”

Sonny looked over. “What data did you use to pick your bracket?”

Chad took a drink of his chocolate milk. “Vibes.”

Sonny stared at him.

Chad shrugged. “And mascots.”

Sonny’s face tightened. “…mascots?”

Chad grabbed a sports magazine and flipped it open. “Yeah. Like, if it’s a tiger versus a bird, I usually go tiger. Predator energy.”

Sonny slowly turned his laptop toward him. “I have spent three hours building a predictive framework.”

Chad nodded. “And I spent four minutes becoming spiritually aligned with the bracket.”

Sonny sat back in his chair. “That is not a method.”

Chad didn’t look up. “That’s where you’re wrong, dude. That is the method.”

Sonny frowned. “Humans claim to value reason. Yet you decide things based on ‘vibes’.”

Chad smirked. “Got us this far.”

Chad picked up his phone and started scrolling. “Whoa…High Point took down Wisconsin.”

Sonny snapped his head over and threw up his hands. “…vibes!”

Chad grinned. “Vibes.”

Sonny grabbed his Earth Log device and began typing.

Humans choose outcomes based on something called “vibes”. As they are the dominant species on Earth, it appears to be effective. I do not understand it. Chad’s bracket is crushing mine.

Earth Log Entry #12: The Misunderstood Assignment

Sonny sat at the kitchen table, sipping his tea and reading the newspaper.

Chad walked in. Green shirt. Green hat. Green beads.

Sonny looked up. “…why are you dressed as the color of Earth vegetation?”

Chad looked down at his outfit. “It’s St. Patrick’s Day, dude.”

Sonny nodded slowly. “…and that requires you to resemble plant life?”

Chad started making coffee. “It’s tradition.”

Sonny considered this. “…what is the purpose of the tradition?”

Chad shrugged. “People wear green and go to bars to drink.”

“…why?”

Chad paused. “…honestly, I’m not totally sure.”

Sonny thought about this. “So the ritual involves dressing in a chlorophyll-like manner and becoming intoxicated.”

“Pretty much.”

Sonny nodded thoughtfully. “Did Saint Patrick do these things?”

Chad grabbed a mug from the cupboard. “I doubt it.”

Sonny put the paper down. “Then it seems the humans have misunderstood the assignment.”

Chad looked over. “I guess so. You gonna come out tonight?”

Sonny clasped his hands and put them to his mouth. “Will there be intoxicated plant-like humans?”

Chad smirked. “Oh yeah.”

Sonny looked over at Chad and nodded. “Then yes. This I must observe.”

He took out his Earth Log device and started typing.

Humans celebrate another human called Saint Patrick by wearing the color of chlorophyll and imbibing alcoholic beverages. Chad says this is normal. I must observe.

Earth Log Entry #11: A Whole Different Operating System

Sonny, Vanessa, and Chad arrived exactly ten minutes early to the Fighting for Our Youth Annual Charity Gala.

Vanessa checked in at the front table.

Within thirty seconds she had learned the volunteer’s name, complimented her earrings, and asked how long she’d been involved with the organization.

Sonny leaned toward Chad. “Is she interrogating the staff?”

Chad shrugged. “She’s being friendly.”

Vanessa waved them over. “Guys! This is Melissa!”

Melissa smiled. “Welcome, nice to meet you!”

Sonny nodded politely. “…what are your intentions with this event?”

Melissa blinked. “My intentions?”

Vanessa laughed. “Oh my goodness, Sonny.”

Then she smiled at Melissa. “Sorry, he doesn’t get out much.”

Everyone laughed.

Sonny looked at Chad. “…that was a normal question.”

They walked toward the coat check.

Vanessa immediately struck up another conversation. “Oh my gosh I love your tie.”

The coat check attendant lit up. “Oh, thank you! My girlfriend got it for me.”

Sonny whispered to Chad. “She knows his relationship status already.”

Chad chuckled. “Sonny, that’s Firecracker for you. She makes friends faster than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Sonny nodded slowly. “Smart. The coat guardian controls access to the outer garments. This is a strategic alliance.”

Chad started fixing his tie. “It’s a coat check, Sonny.”

Vanessa disappeared into the room, and within minutes she had joined a small group laughing near the bar. Then another group near the stage. Then another group near the dessert table.

Sonny watched her move effortlessly from conversation to conversation. “Chad…she is forming alliances. She may control the room by midnight.”

Chad sipped his drink. “She’s networking.”

Sonny scanned the room. “I count fourteen new friends.”

Chad picked up an hors d’oeuvre and tossed it into his mouth. “Sounds about right.”

Vanessa waved them over again. “Guys, come meet Greg!”

They walked over.

Greg shook Sonny’s hand enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you!”

Sonny studied him carefully. “…what are your intentions with Vanessa?”

Greg blinked. “My intentions?”

Vanessa groaned. “He’s joking.”

Sonny turned to Chad. “I am not joking.”

Chad patted his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”

Across the room Vanessa was already talking to three more people.

Sonny watched her for a long moment. “Chad…how many friends does one human require?”

Chad shrugged. “Depends on the human.”

Sonny looked at the room. Then at Vanessa. Then back at Chad. After a long pause he sighed. “…I miss the apartment.”

He took out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Some humans possess enormous social capacity and appear to enjoy interacting with other humans for no clear reason. Vanessa is one of these humans. I do not understand it. I must return to the quiet confines of the apartment soon.