Hey there Spec Tac. I do love the challenge of these questions! I've decided to incorporate the theme of the 40th anniversary moon landings - with a twist, of course - into the mix as well. Enjoy!
~
A large blue orb floated into sight. Streaked and splattered across the surface were patches of fluffy white, and here and there a green patch showed through. Taking the expeditionary craft down closer, the two sentient beings within looked at each other nervously.
Seventeen trillion light-years. Now, here they were, as far away from home as any had ever been, and really, REALLY in need of a toilet stop. This planet seemed to be the most habitable in this godforsaken corner of the milky way, and so it would be the subject of the First Landing. No doubt a matter of extreme political significance back home. Well, as long as these two beings managed it before the other beings that would no doubt be representing their communist rivals.
Anyway.
The azure halo of the atmosphere came into view and swallowed the craft. Various pieces rattled with the strain, and glimpses of flame edged the craft. On the outside, even though the aliens had no idea, the blue-and-white striped flag with the fifty red stars was being stripped by the friction.
They avoided the treacherous-looking white fluffy rocks that covered most of the planet, and landed instead in a grey-green patch of land in the northern hemisphere. In a cloud of flamboyant smoke and political victory, the two beings stepped out.
For the newsreels back home, Kneel Tentaclestrong muttered something about it being a small slither for him, and yet a rather large slither for the species in general. With all six eyes peering out from behind a visor, he looked around.
A ribbon of black roughness stretched towards the horizon on either side, followed by a persistent line of masts joined by slack black string. Most of the land seemed to be composed of tall, brown waving grass and occasional divisions by means of low fences. In front of him, a rectangular structure squatted in the burning sunshine. A tattered flag advertised the nationality of the building ("Beyond Petroleum"). It fluttered and snapped in the light breeze. Set before the building were four machines, with symbols in the top, and coloured hoses hanging from the sides. Evidently the proprietor of this... location... was a patriotic one - the national flag was repeated upon each of the machines.
A noise stirred within the building, and suddenly a creature burst out. It was a medium-sized biped, wearing a faded check shirt, tattered jeans and a worn straw hat.
"Oh, lord," it said. "Jeez, Mary, its aliens!"
Kneel Tentaclestrong extended a tentacle. "We come in... accord. No, wait, armistice. Union? Err... neutrality?"
Buzzed Cauldron snatched the Earth dictionary from his hands. "Peace. We come in peace."
"Aw, christ. They're really prawper goddamn aliens! They all say that in the pictures!" said the biped. He wiped his hands on his jeans and looked up. "We-ell, I guess I'd better show you aroun', whatcha reckon?"
Without waiting for a reply, the man lead the aliens (slithering tentatively) towards the building. On the way, he pointed to the machines standing stoically in the forecourt. "These 'ere are gas pumps," he said. Then, remembering his newfound status as Earth Ambassador, he repeated himself in over-loud tones reserved for the hard of hearing. "Gas Pumps!"
The aliens looked at eachother. Kneel picked the hose from one, and snapped the nozzle off. An oily liquid dribbled out. He looked at Buzzed. "These bipeds must be fairly primitive. This is clearly Liquid, not Gas," he whispered conspiratorially. They then slithered quickly to catch up with the biped, lest he notice the damage they had done to his Liquid Pumps.
When they were inside, the man set about showing to them the wonders of Earth by picking up whatever he could find. First, he showed them his old shoes that he kept by the door. They had a hole in, but they got across the general point that Humans Wore Things On Their Feet. He clattered towards the till from which the humans purchased their Liquid, and picked up a small stick-like object.
"This 'ere is a mechanical pencil. Mechanical Pencil. Ya write with it," he said, holding the small marvel aloft. He twisted the end, and nothing happened.
"Gosh, they haven't even invented the lead for it yet," said Kneel, through his radio so that only Buzzed could hear him.
"I know!" he replied. "And that shoe? It had a hole in it! They aren't even good enough to make decent footwear to stop the water coming in!" They both shook their six-eyed heads disappointedly.
Meanwhile, the man, who had given up in sheer exasperation with the mechanical pencil, turned the dusty screen of the till computer towards the aliens. The screen was mainly white, with coloured symbols and some boxes beneath. The aliens looked in confusement at each other.
"Google," proclaimed the biped triumphantly. "Goo-gle. With this we can find out ANYTHING." And with that, he typed 'recipe for catfish' into it, and waited. Nothing happened.
Buzzed and Kneel looked at eachother.
Still, nothing happened.
Eventually the man gave up and kicked the computer. "The darned internet's down again! I tell ya, my connection here is about as bad as a piece of wet string!"
The comment on the standard of communications on the planet went unsaid between the two aliens.
Conversationally, the man went on. "Or it could jest be me hard drive. I'll be darned if I know what the heck one of 'em is, but somebody told me once that it was purty important in these 'ere machines..."
Education, clearly, was also lacking...
Sensing that his Introduction To Earth wasn't going too well, the biped changed tactics. "Come in here," he said, ushering the aliens into his back room. "I wanna show ya somethin'."
At the back of the room was a metallic cage in which sat a small white-and-black furry creature. It looked at the aliens contemptuously at first, and then squeaked and huddled in the far corner of the cage.
"This 'ere's a skunk," said the man, pointing feverishly towards it. "They're famous for makin' a great, big smell when ya threaten it!" he continued, and then made over-exaggerated gestures with his hands to illustrate the point.
Kneel took out his walkie-talkie, and with the long antennae, poked the skunk a few times. Nothing happened. Not even a whiff.
The biped, head now flushed red and with beads of nervous perspiration now appearing, explained. "Err, you see, this 'un can't. He's a pet, see, so we got his smell glands removed..."
Kneel rolled his eyes. All six of them. Even the animals on this ridiculous planet were defective!
He turned and nodded to Buzzed. Together, they haughtily squelched back into the open air. The biped followed them hurriedly. "Wait! Wait, you haven't even seen the car yet! Car! Aut-o-mobile!"
As a matter of fact, Kneel had seen it. It didn't even have a roof.
"Wait!" the man continued to howl.
Buzzed and Kneel turned slowly around. They were running out of patience with this uneducated, backwards planet that seemed to be full of endless items that were inadequate for their purpose.
Well, if they were going to leave, they were at least going to jolly well get what they came for.
"Biped!" cried Kneel, momentarily terrifying the man. "Take Us To Your..."
Buzzed quickly fished out the dictionary again. Kneel was impatiently snapping his tentacles.
Finally, he found the correct page.
"Take Us To Your... Toilet!"