“I can’t steer this thing at all!” purple alien Apples thought while struggling to land his spherical craft amidst the cherry trees atop the western half of Somerset’s Double Mountains.
He walks into his new base, carefully avoiding a rickity looking, boarded up pump well. It’s the little things that often end those of his type, he’s wisely learned down through the centuries. Don’t show off, don’t take chances. Focus laser-like on the task at hand: world domination, ha ha ha.
Apples Too waits pensively at the window.
“Heck of a year so far, eh Apples?” he speaks over. But she had nothing to say, since she knew he felt she was responsible for most of it. Apples was here to take over. Apples Too to her but not to him. Not any more.
“*Now*. Let’s discuss what’s happened since I last saw you.”