The Writer. Danilo Clementoni

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      Pasadena, California – The News

      "And now, what are we going to do with this little trinket?" asked the thin, lean one, as he climbed into the driver’s seat of a brand new, bright red, Chevrolet Corvette.

      "Are you talking about the car or the alien thing?" asked his chubby crony as, with great difficulty, he also tried to get into the fast sports car.

      "I was talking about the remote-control, although I still haven’t understood why you decided to buy a car like this, seeing as you can't even get into it."

      "I’d say you’re also in a little difficulty, my dear tall, thin lamp post."

      "Precisely. Couldn’t we have got something a little more comfortable for both of us?"

      "When you put your foot down on the accelerator of this beast, the reason will be clear immediately," and after slamming the door a little too violently, he added, "Come on, let’s go."

      "Go where?"

      "Let’s go back to base. I want to analyse the data our nerd friend gave us carefully and discover all the secrets of this bit of alien kit."

      "Now you’re not going to tell me, you know more than him. The guy seemed very knowledgeable to me."

      "I have to say the boy did an excellent job, but I’ve also done my research."

      "What are you talking about?" asked the thin guy, perplexed.

      "What do you think I’ve been doing every night for the last month, in front of the computer, while you snored like a bear in hibernation?"

      "Looked at porn sites?"

      "Where oh where did I find you? I often wonder that of late, you know?"

      "It’s fate that united us,” replied the thin guy as he floored the accelerator, and the Corvette leapt forward leaving two black tyre marks on the tarmac.

      "Hey, slow down," yelled the fat guy, as he was thrown back against the seat by the sudden acceleration. "You’d better not destroy it immediately. I’ve only paid the first two instalments."

      "Wow," exclaimed the skinny guy. "It goes like a missile. This little gem is a real beast."

      "I knew you’d like it. But now, try not to run that little old lady over," said the big guy, indicating a frail lady who was slowly crossing the road. "Let’s try and let her enjoy a little more of her pension."

      "Don't worry my friend. You’re in good hands," answered the guy at the wheel while, with an abrupt manoeuvre, he narrowly missed the little old woman.

      â€œYeah right,” exclaimed the big guy. "You almost tore the clothes off her back." Then he turned around and seeing the old lady who, shaking her handbag, was shouting all sorts of things at him, added "Another series of insults like that and it’ll be you who won’t be enjoying your pension," and he broke out into a peal of laughter.

      "Leave it. I’m not superstitious."

      "You should be. What if she practices voodoo? You might find yourself jumping around like a cricket while the old woman sticks pins in the butt of the little doll that represents you."

      "Will you just stop all this load of bollocks and instead tell me what we’re going to do with that thing?"

      â€œOkay, okay. Don’t get worked up. I was just kidding, no?" The burly guy placed the alien object on the palm of his left hand again and said, "The nerd might well know a lot of people but, I can assure you, I used channels for my research which he certainly hasn’t had the possibility to access."

      "Sometimes you scare me."

      "Do you want to see something?"

      "Well, it depends what."

      "In the various files that I had the opportunity of consulting regarding this alien technology, I discovered that this little object, as well as blowing up spaceships, can do a lot of other things that are just as nice."

      "But are you sure it really has worked?" asked the guy at the wheel, as he took a bend at full speed, slamming the passenger against the door.

      "Hey, can you just slow down? That’s all we need, the police chasing us and arresting us again."

      "I’ve had an idea," said the thin guy. "Turn the radio on."

      "Do you think this is the time to start listening to little songs?"

      "No, of course not, you idiot. Put the news on."

      Although somewhat dubious, the fat guy decided not to ask any more questions and, having put the radio on, began to scroll through the various stations until he found one that was transmitting world news.

      â€œAfter breaking into the central bank, the four criminals with masked faces, holding guns and automatic rifles, ordered the employees to fill the bags with cash. The entire operation lasted a little less than five minutes. When the police arrived, the robbers had already got away. Checkpoints have been set up on all routes into the city."

      "What do we care about this stuff?" asked the fat guy, more perplexed than ever.

      "Patience my friend, patience."

      â€œAnd now let’s return to our headline news. There appear to be some interesting updates. Let’s go over to our Washington correspondent, Fred Salomon."

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