Marty cut across yards, ricocheted off fences. He finally had to stop and lean against a house, leaned on one hand and the other arm swung like an elephant’s trunk while his hips swiveled like Elvis slowed down. Then something gripped his ankle and Marty almost had a coronary.

But it was only Charlie, half in and half out of a storm cellar he’d broken into, clutching Marty’s ankle and gesticulating with his free arm. “Get down, come in, enter!”

“What was that?” Marty gasped as Charlie swiftly shut the doors behind him.

“A Vermicious Knid.”

“What’s a vermilicous nid?”

“Vermicious K‘nid,” Charlie said, clicking the “k” in the back of his throat. “Horrible things. We got away because that dumb bastard was apparently an ‘m’. Normally they burn up entering our atmosphere, though…”

“How do you know that? I thought you used to manage a candy store.”

Charlie shot Marty a bitter look. “I used to own a chocolate factory. I met the Vermicious Knids the first time I went into outer space.”