The next day, before we left Roswell, we went to that "Alien Zone"
shop
that was closed the previous day. In addition to the usual alien novelty
items, they had their
own custom alien eating area along with a room filled with alien photo
opportunities.
This sad lil' fella looked like he needed a friend to party with.
And lemme tell ya, we had one HELL of a party!
The green alien slushy was out of this world!
In the first of many photo opportunity scenes that were setup at Alien
Zone,
I quickly discovered that sodas such as Dr. Pepper and Diet Coke make
aliens drunk.
I couldn't even get this guy to touch the beef that I cooked for him on
the grill.
Re and the alien chill out on the couch. Lazy bastards...
I was about to teach him how to speak English, something I thought would
come in very handy for an alien, when the little fucker shot me with a
spitball.
Re gets drunk and tells the alien bartender, "I love you maaaaaaaaaan!"
Damn you aliens with your gravitational trickery!
Re hitches a ride to California!
Awwwwwww.... BUSTED!
Uh, what's with the Nazi Alien!?
I broke Re out of jail and then paid for it... with my mind!
E.T. PHONE HOME!
"Oh you'll talk Mr. Alien... they ALL talk!"
ALIEN POOP!
And so our tour of Alien Zone ends as we prepare to fly off to another
galaxy. Yay.
We thought we were clear of all the alien crap when we were just about
to exit
the city of Roswell, but sure enough, Wal-Mart had to go overboard with
the aliens.
