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The sound of nearby police sirens came from behind the high-spirited procession. That was now slowly passing through the wrought-iron park gates, eventually spilling out into the high street and beyond.

Crawling behind the group along the cinder-coated Park Road, the police vehicle utilised its ‘roof-mounted’ loudhailer. The roar of an amplified voice announced the authorities were attempting to gain control.

“Attention-Attention, this is the Police — please remain where you stand and await further instructions.”

Forever conscious of performing his public duties, The newly named alien held up four hands in the air. Seven digits on each palm wriggled like a bunch of tethered worms.

Thankfully, seventy-five females, plus a now bobbleless individual, Instantly halted behind him. Four quaintly dressed gender fluids slid in to walk beside them, with the sole intention of joining the procession. However, as they made their way closer towards Squirlik in tiny measured movements, for some unknown reason, each of these four new followers began twitching slightly. Positively exhibiting what appeared to be the symptoms of flea infestation. 

Excitement was building as everyone waited to hear what Alan would say to the officials, who had by now halted their progress.

The constabulary emerged from the front of their police car. Slightly crumpled attire betrayed that the pair of constables had occupied the vehicle for some time.

Bending their knees in a time-honoured fashion pertinent to the world of a male officer in the police. The pair looked around menacingly at the gathering. They placed their bell-shaped headgear onto their almost bald heads and moved towards the front of the vehicle to stand side by side. Each officer fastidiously observed the current behaviour of individual members of the crowd.

The vehicle's rear door opened in slow motion. Before finally exposing a long pair of dark stockinged legs. They lazily extended before delicately touching the floor. The world had slowed down for any red-blooded males in proximity. While in synchronisation they inhaled a sharp intake of breath. In anticipation of what was following behind the lower limbs. 

A female police officer in a sharply cut uniform oozed from the vehicle and strode confidently towards the two police officers. Who were now cautiously standing in the crowd's shadow. The lads gave a further response by hesitantly taking a step away from each other. Allowing their approaching senior officer a prime view of their visage, before he began addressing the crowd.

“Okay, can someone please explain what is going on here? Headquarters have had anonymous reports of an unsolicited march in progress. I must inform you that there is a requirement for police permission. Before, any attempts are made to organise any such gathering.” Surprisingly — The instructions flowed in a gravelly baritone voice.

The young police officer now standing to the left of his superior, was Officer Mason Turnbull. Plucking up the courage he took the lead. PC Turnbull pointed toward Squirlik’s location. Where everyone could observe the person-of-interest, was casually standing a hundred yards ahead.

Alan ‘nee Squirlik’ noted that the female creature was issuing instructions and appeared to be peacefully waiting for signs of how things were about to proceed.

Weirdly, he couldn’t avoid staring rudely at the bushy moustache on the female officer's top lip.

“I don’t think it is a ‘march’ — per se as such. To be honest, they just all seem to follow that — errr ‘gentleman’ stood at the front — Sir.” Constable Turnbull informed his commanding officer with a stilted reply, slamming his feet to the floor as he adopted a stance of being stiffly at attention.

The young police officer sharply sucked in his breath and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He had just grasped his unintentional mistake and was now slowly uttering “S H I T” under his breath. His thoughts raced after contemplating the situation.

‘Would he… errm, cough frantically— She, have even noticed his faux pas?’

Frantically trying to appear nonplussed, he rapidly offered a querulous — “Miss?”

Superintendent Doreen Plummer, a decorated police officer from past campaigns. Painstakingly elevated her sculpted eyebrows and quickly lowered them back into the perfect position.

She realised it wasn’t long ago that she was better known as Derek Plummer, and she supposed it would take some time for the staff to recognise this significant lifestyle change. However, standards must be adhered to.

“That’s Ma’am to you, constable — make sure you remember how to address your senior officer in the future,” Doreen harshly admonished.

“Yes, S… Ma’am,” both constables chanted in unison. Sneakily, they turned away before the superintendent caught sight of the smirk forming on their red faces.

The alien decided he should investigate what the conundrum appeared to be. Maybe Alan could offer to solve any difficulties that are now halting their progress. The last straw that any alien would require at this moment. Would be, having his holiday spoiled by being arrested. Besides, he was now ravenous.

Like the Red Sea, the crowd cleared a path to allow Alan to advance directly to meet with local law enforcement. His intimidating height and stature automatically caused the officials to reach down. Anxiously they grasped both their force-issued stun guns and batons at the same time.

Alan smiled vaguely, as he tried to defuse the situation from growing out of control. A third of the female entourage stood in his gathering, smouldering in hot sexual tension and of lurid, unbridled… ‘Hang on, what’s the word?’

He reached for a pocket, did he have a pocket? Yes, he did. Retrieving his thesaurus from his jacket, and flipped through the pages until reaching ‘P’. Alan knew it sounded like it started with a ‘puh.’

He found the answer he was looking for, unavoidably saying the words out loud.

“Hmm, ah, got it… Passion” — Bodies swooned and fell to the floor, awash with steamy uncontrollable emotions.

Jimmy-Jo pushed to the front of the surrounding women. He wanted to see how the Dang Ayliarn would get out of this conundrum. The American was still miffed, and couldn’t believe Jo-Alice’s continued reaction to this creature; She was still acting like a teenager and grinning like a possum eating a sweet potato.

Staring at the uniformed, moustached woman, Jimmy-Jo unconsciously drew a brief intake of breath. He had heard that the Brits were turning very liberal to many attitudes — But Police MEN, in skirts. Well, that takes the goddamned biscuit.

A coughing noise coming from the direction of the Superintendent interrupted his musings regarding Plummer. Doreen, aka Derek. The officer appeared to be plucking up the courage to castigate the creature, eclipsing her vision from the vista beyond.

Doreen stretched her neck, trying to gain a couple of inches in height, and failed miserably. Making a firm decision to take control, the commanding officer gained enough confidence to interrogate Alan.

“Mr Alien — Sir, I thank you for turning back to allow me to ask you some questions.” Unusually, Doreen felt a little perturbed just by being near the Green Giant’s presence.

The officer felt a little dizzy. Unable to help herself — She felt she must ask the obvious question everyone nearby was waiting to ask. Doreen took a timid step closer before she meekly inquired.

“Are you married, or do you have a girlfriend?.”

Wow —That was unexpected! 

Over one hundred sixty eyeballs flashed in horrified anticipation of the aliens' answer.

Alan placed one hand on his chin to emulate the fact that he was deep in thought — “I am…”

The pause and the collective gasp from his admirers reduced the local oxygen content by ten per cent. The unified inhalation by the surrounding group caused the police officers to lean forward slightly towards the vacuum.

Alan broke the silence with the one unique word the entire assembled female presence was hoping for.

“Single,” he clearly stated. Subtly crossing fingers on each of his hands, hoping the wife would never find out. 

“Is that a problem?” Alan smiled. Slightly surprised by the reaction to his answer.

“That’s the first time I have heard that question when on holiday. It’s usually more mundane things like:”

“ Did you pack your own spaceship, sir?’ or even the travel classic — ‘Have you any crabs withheld anywhere on your person?’ What is that sittIng on your shoulder? I suppose it’s a local custom or something, eh?”

The alien humanoid chuckled silently to himself, recalling a previous incident with a Martian crawler he had absent-mindedly stuffed inside a pocket. He had apologised profusely. Alan had made an offer to pay for plastic surgery. Feeling upbeat with its acceptance in the spirit intended.

Constable Mason Turnbull hissed, “Is he taking the piss?”

His colleague Constable Malik Turnbull replied, “I hope not, have you seen the size of his…?”

Their conversation was diverted by the disturbing sound of their Superintendent groaning slightly. They both turned slowly towards her, to discern what was the cause for the sounds of misery or pain.

Surprised by the sight of their senior officer — pitifully struggling to fight back the urge to get closer to Alan. They decided the best course of action would be to do the comradely thing and stand arms linked in front of her to impede any further progress forward.

Concluding that this must be a signal of his dismissal. Squirlik, (now known by everyone else as Alan) turned around to face the assembled crowd. Once again, he began inducing his fellow holidaymakers further down the high street, on towards the holy grail.

 McRonalds Burger Bar!

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