Sonny the Alien

Earth Log Entry #23: Invisible Weight

Sonny and Vanessa sat curled up on the couch in the apartment, watching The Office.

Vanessa grabbed a chip and popped it into her mouth. “Where did Chad go again?”

Sonny didn’t look up from the TV. “He went up to his family’s cabin in Lutsen.”

Vanessa put the chip bowl on the coffee table. “Oh. Cool.”

After a minute or two of silence she turned to Sonny. “I cried in the bathroom at work today.”

Sonny looked over at her, concerned. “Why? Did someone hurt you?”

Vanessa chuckled. “No, no. Life just gets overwhelming sometimes.”

Sonny still had a concerned look on his face. “Overwhelming enough to bring you to tears?”

Vanessa nodded gently. “Yeah. Sometimes life just beats you into the ground.”

Sonny considered this. “But why would life beat you into the ground?”

Vanessa shrugged. “I don’t know. Stuff has to get done. And there’s so much stuff to do. Nobody cares if you’re happy or not.”

They both looked back at the TV and sat in silence for a while.

Sonny pointed to the TV. “These white collar office workers seem to be in the same plight as you.”

Vanessa laughed. “Exactly.”

Sonny turned to Vanessa and took her hand. “If anyone hurt you, I would handle them.”

Vanessa smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “I know you would, you big oaf.”

Sonny took out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Humans can carry invisible weight. I cannot see it, but it appears very heavy. Vanessa became emotional at work today despite having suffered no obvious injury. I will monitor the situation, and possibly investigate her boss.

Earth Log Entry #22: Parasite Battle

Sonny, Vanessa, and Chad piled into Sonny’s Tacoma after a tough hike through the woods.

Chad took a swig from his water bottle. “I think I lost part of my soul on that hill.”

Vanessa looked back at him. “It was barely a hill.”

Sonny started the truck. “It was a 10% grade.”

Chad leaned his head back against the seat. “I need electrolytes. And like…three burritos.”

Vanessa laughed. “You say that after every hike.”

Sonny pulled onto the road. “Your body appears physically incapable of moderation.”

Chad scratched his arm absentmindedly. Then froze. “…guys.”

Vanessa looked over. “What?”

Chad pointed slowly at his sleeve. A tiny tick crawled across the fabric.

Vanessa recoiled instantly. “OH MY GOD.”

Sonny glanced at Chad in the back seat. “…what is that?”

Chad looked horrified. “It’s a tick.”

Sonny blinked. “A tiny bloodsucking parasite?”

Vanessa climbed halfway onto the dash. “THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW.”

Chad panicked and flicked it.

Silence.

Vanessa threw up her hands. “DUDE!…now where is it?”

Chad looked around frantically. “I DON’T KNOW.”

Sonny didn’t look away from the road. “We have lost visual confirmation of the parasite.”

Vanessa twisted around in her seat. “CHECK THE FLOOR.”

Chad studied the floor of the truck. “I AM CHECKING THE FLOOR.”

Vanessa handed him a flashlight. “CHECK BETTER.”

Sonny slowed the truck. “This situation has escalated.”

Vanessa looked over wildly. “It’s escalated, alright!”

Chad lifted his feet off the floor. “Bro, if that thing gets on me again I’m jumping out of the truck.”

Sonny pulled into a quiet suburban neighborhood and parked along the curb.

Vanessa looked around nervously. “Why are we stopping?”

Sonny unbuckled his seatbelt. “The parasite must be neutralized.”

He carefully searched around the center console.

Then—

“…ah.” Sonny grabbed a nearby empty sandwich baggie and let the tick crawl onto it.

Chad recoiled. “OH MY GOD.”

Vanessa unbuckled her seatbelt and covered her mouth. “Don’t let it touch me.”

Sonny studied it calmly on the street. “…remarkable.”

Vanessa pointed at him. “Do not call that thing remarkable.”

Sonny rotated the baggie slightly. “It is extremely small, yet feared immensely.”

Chad looked closer. “Because it literally drinks your blood!”

Sonny nodded slowly. “Blood is evidently a highly effective nutrient source.”

Vanessa looked disgusted. “JUST KILL IT.”

Sonny continued examining it.

Then—

The tick fell off the baggie.

Silence.

Sonny looked down.

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “…Sonny.”

Chad looked to the ground. “WHERE IS IT?”

Sonny scanned the street carefully. “…it has escaped.”

Vanessa put her hand to her forehead. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

Chad went back to his seat and buckled his seatbelt. “I’M OUT. I’M DONE.”

Sonny slowly surveyed the neighborhood.

Children rode bikes peacefully down the street. A man watered his lawn. Birds chirped softly.

Sonny folded his arms. “…the blood parasite is now loose within this suburban sector.”

Vanessa stared at him. “You make everything sound worse.”

Chad checked his legs frantically. “I can literally feel them crawling on me.”

Vanessa looked down at herself and brushed her arms. “UGHHH.”

Sonny nodded. “Yes. Psychological destabilization appears highly contagious.”

Chad pointed at him. “You lost the tick!”

Sonny looked genuinely disappointed. “…correct.”

Chad sighed. “…Whatever. Let’s get out of here. I need to shower and scrub my skin off.”

Vanessa put her seatbelt back on and nodded. “Yeah.”

Sonny took out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Today I encountered a small parasite known as a “tick.” The organism feeds on blood and spreads disease. Chad and Vanessa responded with immediate psychological destabilization. The parasite escaped containment and now appears to be operating somewhere within a residential neighborhood. The residents should be prepared for battle.

Earth Log Entry #21: Speed Kills

Sonny and Dale sat on the couch, watching old UFC fights.

Dale pointed to the TV. “Ooooh, Griffin/Bonnar. You’re gonna love this one, Sonny!”

Sonny took a sip of his ice water. “This sport is barbaric. Primal. Real. I approve.”

Just then Chad walked in and dropped his briefcase. “They got me.”

Sonny sat up, concerned. “Who got you, Chad?”

Chad started taking off his shoes. “They got me for going 9 over on Maple Street.”

Dale took a sip of his beer. “Got him on a little fundraiser.”

Sonny set his water on the table. “You were going over the posted vehicular speed limit?”

Chad reached into his briefcase and pulled out the ticket. “Everyone does.”

Chad handed the ticket to Sonny. He went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of chocolate milk.

Sonny studied the ticket for a while. “You were going 44 MPH in a 35 MPH zone? Chad, that’s well above the upper limit.”

Chad took a sip of his chocolate milk. “Everybody goes over the speed limit.”

Dale shrugged. “Yeah. But if it’s the end of the month, or the cop’s having a bad day, you’re toast.”

Sonny handed the ticket back to Chad. “Why is it a limit then? Why not a suggestion?”

Chad shrugged. “Because then nobody could technically get in trouble.”

Dale put his feet on the coffee table. “They got my cousin going 104 on 35 in a Miata. Took his license and everything.”

Sonny put his hand on his chin. “A speed limit means the number is the upper limit. There must also be a lower limit. Traveling beyond established operational parameters appears unsafe.”

Chad shrugged. “I guess people interpret it differently.”

Dale chuckled. “Tell that to the judge.”

Chad peered over at him. “Why are your feet on the coffee table?”

Dale ignored him. “My uncle’s got one of those radar detector things.”

Sonny froze. “Humans build machines to detect law enforcement?”

Chad sighed. “…Basically.”

Sonny slowly nodded. “So the objective is to travel as fast as possible without attracting enforcement attention.”

Dale pointed at Sonny. “Now you’re getting it.”

Sonny stared blankly ahead for a moment. “The roads are governed by vibes.”

Sonny took out his Earth Log device and started typing.

Humans set a limit on speed for vehicular transportation. Most humans do not adhere to this limit. They instead attempt to determine the maximum socially acceptable velocity before law enforcement intervention occurs.

Earth Log Entry #20: Sweet Talkin’

Sonny and Vanessa went to a local coffee shop on a Saturday morning for coffee.

They stood in line waiting to order.

Sonny studied the menu overhead. “Why are there so many different varieties of this beverage made from coffee beans?”

Vanessa scanned the crowded coffee shop. “Because people love their caffeine.”

Sonny looked at her. “Do they not know it’s an insecticide?”

Vanessa stared at him for a moment. “You’re an insecticide.”

It was their turn to order. Vanessa smiled at the barista. “Hi Dane! I’ll have the mocha Frappuccino.”

Sonny cleared his throat. “I’ll have a plain black coffee.”

The barista tapped on his POS system. “That’ll be $14.68.”

Sonny slowly pulled out his wallet and paid. “…Steep.” He muttered.

The barista chuckled and handed them the receipt. “They’ll be right up on the counter over there.” He gestured to the left.

Vanessa smiled brightly. “Thanks Dane!”

They made their way to the pickup counter.

Vanessa handed Sonny her purse. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Sonny nodded once and took the purse. “I will guard it.”

Vanessa smirked. “I know you will.”

She walked away.

Sonny stood at attention near the counter, holding Vanessa’s purse with both hands like a security detail guarding nuclear launch codes.

A woman approached and grabbed her drink.

She glanced over at Sonny and smiled. “Cute purse. I have the same one.”

Sonny looked down at it. “It is not mine, it is—”

The woman winked. “It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

Sonny blinked. “…What secret?”

The woman extended her hand. “I’m Krystal.”

Sonny shook it firmly. “Sonny.”

Krystal laughed. “Sonny? That’s my friend’s dog’s name!”

Sonny smirked slightly. “Your friend has excellent taste in names.”

Krystal took another sip of her coffee. “You’re cute.”

Sonny crossed his arms. “I do not believe ‘cute’ is the correct descriptive term.”

Krystal grinned. “Oh my God, you’re funny too.”

She began digging through her purse. “Can I give you my number?”

Sonny cocked his head to the side. “…For what purpose?”

Krystal laughed harder. “You’re silly.”

She pulled out a pen and started writing on a scrap of receipt paper.

At that exact moment, Vanessa returned.

She slowed as she approached. “…Who’s this?”

Sonny immediately handed Vanessa her purse. “Vanessa, this is Krystal. She is attempting to give me her telephone number for unknown reasons.”

Vanessa looked at Krystal. “Oh, really?”

Krystal awkwardly lowered the pen.

Vanessa slid her arm around Sonny tightly. “Sorry, honey. He’s taken.”

Krystal’s eyes widened. “Oh my God—I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Vanessa smiled. “It’s okay.”

Krystal quickly shoved the pen back into her purse. “Well…nice meeting you.”

Then she scurried away toward the exit. They watched her leave.

Vanessa looked up at Sonny. “So.”

Sonny blinked. “So?”

Vanessa crossed her arms. “You’re getting girls’ numbers while I’m in the bathroom now, Casanova?”

Sonny shrugged calmly. “I did not realize she was evaluating me as a potential mate.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

The barista called out from behind the counter. “Drinks for Sonny!”

They grabbed their coffees and headed toward the door.

Sonny pulled out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Coffee shops appear to function as informal human mating grounds. An unidentified female attempted to initiate pair-bonding procedures while Vanessa was temporarily absent. I remain uncertain why holding the purse increased my desirability. I will pass this strategy on to Chad.

Earth Log Entry #19: Broken Portal

Sonny went through the apartment building front entrance. The door shut behind him.

THUD.

He froze. “…That is unusual.”

He turned, opened the door again, and shut it.

THUD.

No click.

He tried again.

THUD.

Sonny stepped closer. Slowly.

He pressed his ear against the door.

Silence.

He pushed it lightly.

It drifted open.

Sonny stepped back, arms folding, one hand on his chin. “…Building security has been severely compromised.”

He vaulted up the stairs to the apartment. Chad sat on the couch watching TV.

Sonny set his backpack down and began removing his shoes. “Chad. Building security is compromised. The front entrance is not locking. We must initiate emergency repair procedures.”

Chad glanced over. “Uh…isn’t that what building maintenance is for?”

Sonny walked to the closet. “It is all our duty.”

Chad turned back to the TV. “I promise you, it is absolutely not.”

Sonny pulled out a tool bag and stood at the door. “Then whose duty is it?”

Chad flipped the channel. “Like I said—maintenance. They even have an app.”

Sonny paused. “…An app.”

He slowly began putting his shoes back on. “That could take days.”

Chad grabbed his chocolate milk and took a swig. “You’re taking this way too seriously. What are the chances anything happens?”

Sonny stopped. Looked over. “It is a chance I am not willing to take.”

Sonny returned to the entrance. He set the tool bag down.

He removed:

• A hammer
• A wrench
• A kettlebell

He stared at the door.

Then knocked on it.

Once. Twice. Then harder.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Another resident walking by slowed down. “…Everything good?”

Sonny didn’t look at him. “Testing structural integrity.”

The man blinked. “…Right.” And kept walking.

Ten minutes later—

Sonny wiped his hands.

He closed the door.

Click.

He froze.

Opened it.

Closed it again.

Click.

He stepped back. “…Mission accomplished.”

Sonny returned to the apartment. Chad was half asleep on the couch.

He set the tool bag down. “Safety has been restored. The door has been repaired.”

Chad didn’t look up. “Good job, Mr. Fix-It.”

Sonny allowed himself a small smirk. “Mr. Fix-It, indeed.”

Sonny pulled out his Earth Log device and began typing.

Doors on Earth may fail without warning, creating immediate security vulnerabilities. Chad does not appear to recognize the severity of these events. The system has been restored. We are secure.

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.”