When she arrives home after work, the bedroom light’s on. She didn’t turn it on. Water’s running in the tub. She doesn’t have a tub.
The first wave of attacks only maimed the humans. Further research determined the best way to a man’s heart was through his rib cage.
John posted the hay-man in his front yard. But, still, a man climbed in the back window and ate of his wife’s seed.
The UPS kiosk asked if she wanted one-day delivery. You know, she thought, he did want to see the country. She smiled. Free shipping it was.
“Do you wish on shooting stars?” she asked. “No,” he said. “Why not?” “Shooting stars are silly and rare. I wish on airplanes. More common.”
Early transporters sent copies. One by one they stranded a tribbleload of Kirks, all shouting into communicators for Scotty to beam them up.