Why the Aliens Did What They Did to that Suburb of Madison, Wisconsin by Tim McDaniel
Usually we keep to drawn cartoons around here, but this short piece struck the funny bones around our offices so well that we decided to run it. As one editor commented, "It's just so wrong ... in the right ways, that is." 

Tim McDaniel's previous appearance in our pages was "Le Morte d'Volkswagyn" back in our June 2000 issue. He lives in the Seattle area and teaches English as a second language. 
"Doesn't do it for you, huh?"
Mary shook her head. She sat amid the rumpled sheets, her eyes downcast. Mark sat on the edge of the bed, slumped and sweaty.
Mark stripped off the latex mask and bent down to remove the velcro from his feet. "I'll put the iguanas back in their cage, then."
"Mmm hmm."
Mark returned to the bedroom and slapped his hands. "Well, what should we play then? Bill and Monica?"
Mary shook her head.
"Yeah, I guess that's been getting old. Thelma and Louise?"
Mary shrugged.
"Bush and Cheney? Flying Monkey and Toto? Spock and Worf?"
Mary thought not.
"Well, we can get the darts out again, or paint each other yellow and hang from the ceiling. Or get the weed whacker out, with the paint thinner. No? What, then?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Mary. "It's getting harder to be original, I guess. You've been getting bored with the same old scenarios too. I know."
"Yeah. But there must be something. Shrek and Donkey?"
Mary looked at him. "Again?" She turned back to the window.
"Well, what then? Get out those sandpaper gloves? I know they're around here somewhere. Or get the laminating machine going? Maybe the garden gnomes and the ball bearings?"
"Oh, Mark. It's the same old thing, over and over. We need something new. Something weird, for a change."
Mark nodded. "Yeah. We have got ourselves into a rut."
They were silent for a while, each trying to come up with a proposal, a suggestion that would reignite their flagging sex life.
"Sometimes I wish I was just normal," Mary said. She got up and went to the bedroom window. "Someone who wouldn't mind just hopping into bed and doing it. Someone who can be content imagining their husband is Tom Cruise, instead of it always having to be a terrorist or a gerbil."
"Yeah," Mark agreed. "I know what you mean. But we are what we are, right?"
They lapsed again into silence.
"Hey. What's that?"
Mark looked up at the sound of Mary's voice. "What?"
"Out the window. That light."
Mark looked. "Huh. Looks like it's coming down."
"It's getting bigger, too."
Mark joined Mary at the window. "Is that a silvery dome at the top?"
"Looks like it. Or maybe, I don't know. Zinc or something. Titanium. Or aluminum."
They watched the glowing thing for a while. It settled down onto the meadow.
"Should we call someone? Mark asked.
"Who?"
"I don't know. NASA? The Weekly World News? Fox?"
Mary suddenly clutched Mark's arm. "There's something moving out there!" she whispered harshly. "There, in the bushes!"
"Jeez, you're right! And it's coming right toward us."
"It's clipping plants or something."
"If it keeps coming this way, it's going to move into the light soon. Yeah! There!"
"Eeew!" said Mary. "Look at that thing! All those spikes and warty knobs sticking out all over it."
"Yeah, and holes of every size poking into it. And it's oozing! It's slippery and gushing weird fluids from its bizarre orifices!"
Mary was breathing hard. "It looks soft and hard all at the same time. Look at it. It's quivering and pulsating! I think I can hear an eerie moaning sound!"
She looked at Mark.
Mark looked at her.
He was breathing hard, too.
"I'll get the baseball bat," he said. "After I stun it, you gotta help me carry it to the bed."
"Oh, Mark! Yes!"
* * * *
Afterward, Mark lay on the bathroom floor, breathing in great gasps. Mary sat in the bathroom sink, although she had no memory of how she had come to be there. The alien quivered and throbbed in the tub.
"Oh, God!" Mary breathed.
"Yes, oh yes," Mark said. "Incredible."
"Better than that. If I could move, I'd jump right back onto it."
"I think I've strained every muscle, and broken a few bones, but I'd join you." Mark turned his head. "Hey, our friend is moaning again."
"It moaned a lot while we were doing it."
"Yeah. It's starting to flop around, too. You know what? I think it wants more!"
"More?" Mary said. "I'll be too exhausted for anything more strenuous than phone sex for a week!"
"Me too. But I guess he is what he is. Sorry, little guy. I guess it didn't do it for you, huh?"