DMX paused on his patrol around the ship to admire his chassis. He’d just had his wheels replaced by the ship’s mechano-medic in order to look his best for the impending invasion.  The diamonds gilding his CommScreen glinted in the reflection of the ship’s window. Ftchhhhh, a door near the end of the corridor slid open. Hepcat, his rapping cat, slunk out of the glowing room behind it. “What the hell were you doing in there?” he asked. “Taking a shit.” Hepcat replied. “Goddamnit, Hepcat,” DMX said. “We’ll be at Earth in five minutes, is it so much to ask that you wait?”

“Yes.”

DMX sighed. When he murdered his entire family in cold-hydraulics-fuel, he expected his ascendancy to Lordship would at least come with a ship-trained cat. Unfortunately the Vizier he was appointed was Hepcat, a nine-hundred-and-something-year-old insane cat who wouldn’t stop talking about his previous thirteen lives as a medical professional. The antenna on Hepcat’s ear started blooping. “We’ve reached Earth!” DMX gasped. He was looking forward to fulfilling his vendetta. The CommScreen on his chest lit up, displaying pictures from all over the globe of people looking into the sky, marvelling at his fleet. “Which city are we hovering over?” he demanded. The voice of his captain came through loud and clear. “I don’t know, I can’t read any of the street signs from here.” Moronic Earthlings, he thought. Haven’t even figured out legible typography yet. At least we can rule out any Swiss cities. He rolled towards the ship’s bridge, Hepcat trotting in tow.