The Aliens on the Porch

Last night I dreamed that some tiny aliens came down and landed their miniature spacecraft in my front yard. Two of them clambered up to the porch and knocked on the bottom of my door. They were so small I had to crouch while talking to them. They asked me if people on Earth needed any help.

I said, "No, thank you, not today."

They wanted to leave an advertising flyer and began telling me all about a fabulous housing development they're planning on Mars, but I couldn't read it. As I handed it back, I assured them, "Housing won't be necessary on Mars. Humans will never get there."

The tall one tapped a glowing device and said, "Uh huh."

The short one asked, "Anything else we can do for you?"

I shrugged, but then tried to explain the gesture.

The tall one said, "Uh huh," and decisively tapped its device again.

As the aliens prepared to leave, "Look," I said. "Humans aren't worth the bother. If you come back in a few thousand years, we'll totally be extinct. Whatever is left over then might welcome some assistance, because we're kind of leaving a mess."

"Uh huh," the tall one repeated, with another tap on its device.

They looked at one another and chatted alienly for a moment.

"How excellent," the tall one said. "The cockroaches told us you would cooperate."

I asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind," said the short one. "We'll be back."