Elizabeth looked at Archie, unimpressed with his idea of a joke. She crossed her arms and glared at him. Archie looked at her and raised his eyebrow and tried to make sense of Elizabeth’s disgruntled face.

“Woman, why are you looking at me like that?” Archie said.

“How high are you right now?” she asked.

“On a scale of one to ten?” Archie began. “I’m so high, I give Red Bull wings.”

“What are you on?”

“Poch-poch-nu-poch,” Archie garbled. “At least, I think that’s how you pronounce it. It’s, like, this alien herb on the planet Hortemede that slows everything down and makes everything look yellow. It’s dope.”

“Archie! I’m serious,” Elizabeth demanded.

“What? I’m telling the truth! I was abducted by aliens and I smoked some alien weed. It’s crazy! I smoked it last week and I’m still high.”

“Can you be serious for once in your life? I’m asking you a serious question, and I want a straight answer.”

“You know what’s not straight? Your ex-boyfriend,” Archie laughed. Elizabeth slapped Archie so hard that he almost sobered up. “Fuck! It was a joke! Why’d you gotta be so serious all the time. You gotta relax, and get that stick out of your ass.”

“I thought you were killed or something,” Elizabeth said. “I was genuinely worried about you. You just disappeared out of the blue—you didn’t text me, or call me, or anything. I had no one to talk to. I thought you died, Archie.”

“You really were worried about me?” Archie smiled, mockingly yet affectionate.

“Yes! You’re my best friend. Of course I’d be worried.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, you sweet little nympho.” Archie pinched her cheeks.

“Stop it!” Elizabeth slapped Archie’s hand away. “Now, can you please tell me where you’ve been?”

“Look, I’m telling you the truth. Aliens abducted me while I was in the middle of watching Stranger Things, okay? And do you know how frustrating that is? One moment you’re watching a bunch of dickheads experimenting on Eleven, and the next, fucking aliens are probing your asshole.”

“Archie, quit it.”

Archie’s face sunk into a drunken rant. “No, Liz. They experimented on me; gave me, like, super reflexes and made me fight in their sick gladiatorial matches and shit. I staged a rebellion and got the hell out of there. I hauled ass, Elizabeth! Do you know what it’s like to haul ass from aliens? Do you? It’s like trying to run away from your crippling student debt: it’s virtually impossible! They’re on to me, Elizabeth. I pissed off some really powerful E.T. motherfuckers, Elizabeth. Like, I started a family on a random alien planet, Elizabeth, and they found me. Laxatites, man! They’re like shapeshifting spy aliens. They’re savage and they drink fossil fuels for the fun of it. And you know what else they do for fun? They murdered my alien wife and child like puppies, Elizabeth. Murdered puppies! Wait… You’re not one of them are you?” 

Archie burped and took out a gun—it was a Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum. Archie pressed it down on her temple and cocked it with a cold expression. Elizabeth panicked and let out a scream. Archie glared at Elizabeth like a black hole intent on wiping her from existence. Archie took out a small scanner from his pocket, which looked like a price gun that grocery store registers use, and scanned Elizabeth with it. It beeped and a green light flashed. Elizabeth and Archie looked at the small screen. The screen read: “Elizabeth Cittá: Human. Negative reading for Laxatite DNA.”

“Oh, thank God,” Archie sighed and hugged her.

“Oh my God. You were going to kill me.” Elizabeth began throwing a series of punches at Archie, who tried to defend himself. “You son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry. I had to make sure that you weren’t an alien trying to kill me.” Archie said. “And don’t call my mom a bitch.”

“Where’d you get the gun, Archie?”

“Intergalactic Black Market: IBM, for short. Apparently, even in space, Earth guns are the best guns around.” Archie swirled the revolver on his finger like a cowboy.

“You’re seriously fucked up in the head. Get some help.” Elizabeth chastised him.

“Well, I am a little ship-lagged. It normally takes ten years to get from Hortemede to Earth, and wormhole technology compresses all that time. So, I got here in, like, three days. Not to mention the poch-poch-nu-poch. Never get high when launching into a wormhole. It’s trippy and it’s cool, but you’ll regret it after. Not worth the headache, I-M-O.”

“How long did this supposed encounter with the third kind last, you addict?”

“It was like two, three weeks…”

“You’ve been gone six months.”

“I went sight seeing. Sue me.”

“Okay, say I believed you. Why’d you come back?” Elizabeth asked.

Archie scoffed. “You think I wanted to come back to Earth? I’m a big deal in space, Elizabeth. I’m a motherfuckin’ bounty hunter! I’m like fucking Han Solo—no, I’m better than Solo; I’m Boba Fett, except I don’t die like a little bitch in an asshole in the sand. I just came back for my carpet and to catch up on Stranger Things, but my ship crashed. It’s a good thing an alien friend of mine actually migrated to Earth three months ago and answered my distress beacon. He’s offered to fix my ship. Took me another five days to get home from the desert, because even after six months had passed, Google Maps is still a shit app. It’s been a long trip, Elizabeth, and like you rubbing your snatch like a lottery ticket, I just want to wind down and relax before dealing with the dread enemy known as life.” He leaned back and prepared to doze off.

“How’d you crash your imaginary ship?”

“It’s not imaginary. And to answer the question: the poch-poch-nu-poch kicked in…” Archie replied without moving anything but his mouth.

“My best friend has a drug problem,” Elizabeth said to herself. “And it fucked him in the head like syphilis to Al Capone.”

Archie shot back up in a frustrated fit. “I’m not making this up! Would I be able to tell you in complete detail of my misadventures in space if I were high all the time?”

“Anything’s possible when you’re high,” Elizabeth said. “I mean, The Beatles wrote some of their best songs when they were high.”

“They also wrote ‘Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da’, so your argument is partially invalid. Besides, I’m not high… I mean, I sort of still am. But I’m not lying!” Archie frowned at her. "The fact is I was abducted by aliens, I escaped, I'm back home, and I just want to rest for a bit before leaving again. Is that too much to ask?"

Someone knocked at the door.