Squattedman is watching over the city from the sky when he sees before him a little light that advances towards him very slowly but getting increasingly larger. Suddenly, the light dashes and stands up under his very nose. There, high above New York City, Squattedman faces a huge metal object in the form of a cigar. The cigar seems to be lit because from its end sprouts a weird violet smoke. However, at the other end there is no one puffing on. (Thank God because if there were someone, it should be twice the size of the Statue of Liberty.)
In 1910 there was still no talk of flying saucers or possible alien life on other planets in the Universe. In fact, a high percentage of New Yorkers were still convinced that the Earth was flat. At least they were in no doubt about this in the case of New York. (For other cities they would not risk their necks.) And stars were just for decoration, like candles on a Christmas tree. If you had told them that our sun was just another star, they would have taken you for a nut, even if you had a PhD in physics from the University of Harvard.
Well, the case is that Squattedman belonged to that high percentage of the population. Although he attended a religious school until the age of sixteen, he had hardly any studies for the simple reason that the teachers were so elderly that they used to die shortly after the start of the course and were replaced by other equally elderly teachers, who did not last long either. (The truth is that they dropped like flies.) That determined that, after high-school, his culture was at the same level of that of an aboriginal of the Amazon rainforest, or perhaps even a little below. It was not until after finishing school when he began to broaden his mind, but he had still many educational gaps. Among them, everything related to astronomy and the possibility of extraterrestrial life.
But returning to the case at hand, from the metallic object in the form of a cigar, suddenly emerges a green dwarf with a large pear-shaped head and black glasses. At first Squattedman thinks that it is a member of the Whyos gang called Benny who, due to a liver problem, has a greenish-colored skin. “Wow! How far the Whyos have evolved!”, he tells himself. But he soon realizes that this has nothing to do with street gangs. At a given moment, the dwarf raises an arm in token of peace and starts talking to him inside his head. That is, he speaks without moving his lips. Just like a vaudeville’s ventriloquist but much more sophisticated. He tells beautiful things about peace and fraternity among all beings in the Universe. Then he pulls a gun out and shoots a kind of lightning that hits right on Squattedman’s forehead, but he only notices a little tingling. Then the dwarf reenters his ship, which takes off vertically at an unprecedented speed.
At night, in his Upper East Side apartment, Squattedman reflects on the incident while contemplating the bright lights that decorate the night sky. He even considers deep questions that turn upside down his entire understanding of the Universe. As for the shot received in the forehead, there are no sequels, except for the sudden discovery that he understands and speaks Arabic, and is even able to write it, although he commits spelling mistakes.