Parasitecology S01E04 “I Hate to Sleep Alone” Transcript

Ugh, ok. No more port-wine cheese. Ughh, I’m so full I could [burst].

[Go for a smoothie].

WHAT? How can you still be hungry? Look at all the packaging and cellophane lying around, it’s like a bachelor Thanksgiving.

Oh, don’t get me wrong — it’s been a culinary whirlwind, especially the items from this miraculous food machine, what’s it called again?

The FryBaby XL with Internet-of-Things support and Godfrey integration. Here, check this out: “Godfrey, pre-heat the FryBaby XL to default setting.”

Pre-heating to <break time=”.3s”/>Twinkie. Say “yes” to play music related to <break time=”.3s”/>’Twinkie frying'<break time=”.3s”/> from your free Soundblare streaming account.

Yes, quite superior to our food replication devices, which produce edibles that are really quite bland and unappealing and do not curate playlists. As for hunger… you and I simply have slightly different vitamin and mineral requirements, that’s all. I just need a little more to top me off.

This sounds like another excuse to put off telling me more about you and the small matter of humans not being alone in the universe. What secrets are you hiding, Cher?

Hiding? No, no… And here’s a secret – the secret to a good partnership: compromise. So, let’s say I tell you whatever you’d like to know while we set up the old blender. Deal?

Deal.

Alright, what would you like to know?

Let’s start with your world.

Of course! My homeworld is located roughly 22.32 light-years away from here, on a planet we call Earth.

Earth?

Well obviously, I mean most alien homeworlds are called Earth. What else would “that dirt thing we live on” get translated as?

I guess that makes sense, actually…

I’m not sure where the cap is. Oh there it is.

There must be some kind of universal naming convention, though.

Well, I happen to know, as you do, that there is a human convention we could use if you happened to have extensive knowledge of stellar cartography…? Just riffling through the old file cabinet here. No? Well we could use my people’s technical naming system for it.

Ok.

One.

One?

Well that’s obviously where we started counting… Milk?

In the fridge. Okay, so what is life like on Planet One? Tell me about your people, and society, and whether you’ve cured cancer or

Have very advanced sex robots.

Sorry, advanced, uh…? Well, as I’ve stated before, we have two sentient species on my planet: the Bearers, who are bipedal mammals, not completely dissimilar to humans, and the Spirits… co-evolved symbiotic beings like myself.

So, the naming on that seems kind of… one-sided, maybe? Like one of those species thought it brought just a little more to the table on the deal?

Nonsense. The combined race of Bearers and Spirits, or as my species terms them — “people” — live harmonious lives in equality. In fact — let’s grab some ice — conflict and warfare have been completely unknown on my world for tens of thousands of years, well before we met other alien species, oh, many millenia ago. We covet knowledge and most of us spend centuries engaging in esoteric scholarship. In fact things change so slowly and smoothly on my world, it’s all a bit boring, really. Ah, we’ll need quite a bit of zest of orange now.

Okay… but if your world is so harmonious, then how are you some kind of political refugee?

I don’t understand it myself, fully. All I know is that things have changed recently. My people used to value freedom and justice as our core tenets, and now — it’s different. Political shifts on a world that barely has politics. Old friends acting strangely. I don’t know — sometimes I think it’s me that’s changed.

How so? And that’s way too much orange peel.

No, it’s just right. And I know you don’t know me very well, Javier, but on my planet I was known to have a bit of a rebellious streak. I’ve…

Well, I’ve been known to… hitch.

I’m sorry?

Hitching. It’s not something people on my world approve of; it’s not prohibited exactly, just frowned upon — sugar? As you know, the Spirit species lives a considerably longer time than the Bearer, and when the current Bearer dies it’s traditional for the Spirit to join with another Bearer and so on… But when my people first came into contact with aliens, some of us chose to… temporarily “hook-up” with species not of our world, sort of like our trial period, and explore the cosmos.

Are you saying, that you have quite LITERALLY HITCH-HIKED the GALAXY aboard any space-faring alien species that would have you?

Well, local cluster. Hey, don’t hitch-shame me, what past hosts I’ve melded with are not relevant to our relationship. And no – not any species – intelligent ones who agreed to experience a true connection. Uh, hand me some pine needles.

Here. But don’t change the subject, I’d like to know more about these aliens you… Wait a minute, we’re NOT eating pine needles.

No, we’re drinking them.

Chop. Blend. Frappe! That’s fun!

I’m not…

Frap.

Drinking.

Frap.

Pine needles.

Frap. Frap. Frappe! Sure you are, here take a whiff of that. Wait a minute, let me unleash your nostrils for a moment. There, now doesn’t that smell good?

It actually sort of does. Why is… why is my mouth watering?

Because we need it – well I need it. Not all of a Spirit’s essential nutrients can be derived from the host’s biology. I require a strong source of alpha and beta pinenes in order to survive. On your world, that’s orange peels, pine needles, eucalyptis oil. Mmmm. Hmmm Mhmm. Mhhmm! Eucalyptis oil? Gimme gimme gimme.

Okay, I can do this. It’s just a terrible health shake filled with green muck. I’ll just pretend that I’m at a fancy juice bar in [California].

[Some place so poor they eat pine needles]! Yes. Salud, Kanpai, ETCETERA!

Uhghhh… god. I don’t know what my stomach hated more… the taste of fresh Christmas Tree or drinking a quart of milk on top of a seven course fried food tasting menu. Oh, I got to lay down. This is just… too bizarre.

You’ll get used to it.

Will I? I’m starting to think I really am crazy. Talking to myself, shoving crazy things down my throat. Maybe this really is all a dream. Or maybe I’ve got that… condition, pico, poco, something… the one where you get a craving to eat chalk or dirt. Some kind of mineral deficiency, that’s all. Just some elaborate psychosomatic response because I keep forgetting to take Centrum.

Emm, no.

No? I’m doubting that you exist at all and your best response is “no”?

Come on, Javier, this isn’t my first “do you even exist” rodeo. I’m quite sure I exist, so we’re at least half-sure about it, no matter what. And at any rate, I think you’re ready for the next step.

What’s that?

Proof.

Well, how did you imagine I came here? Astral projection?

I don’t know, maybe some kind of Stargate?

Stargates aren’t real Javier, any more than, let me see here… Furlings, whatever the crap that is, or the Goualoud race of parasitic lifeforms that take ov… we’re getting offtopic, here. SPACESHIP. I came in a spaceship.

Well, where is it then?

Right outside.

Right outside? Like just hidden in plain sight of everyone? My nosy neighbors, the cops, umm, raccoons?

Yes!

Does it have some kind of illegal cloaking device or a secret phase shifting field?

Do I look like I’m made of cosmocredits? No, it’s just a regular high-end spaceship, fast sure, but you know, you sacrifice comfort.

Just a regular spaceship that came from 22 light years away using some magic faster-than-light drive?

What kind of physics do they teach you? No, OBVIOUSLY it goes slower than light – it’s got a modern hybrid VSL drive.

VSL?

Variable speed of light. Yeah, you got your traditional volatile fusion drive, with a VSL afterburner. You want to go faster, you just locally raise the speed of light a bit. Just bump up the old speed limit sign. It’s… very handy.

It’s almost… unbelievable. Why don’t you show it to me.

Well, it’s almost morning — let’s get these slippers on and step out on the balcony.

Huh, I guess I must have left it open a crack.

Yes.

Well, my vision is still pretty bad, but I definitely don’t see a spaceship. You sure you remember where you parked it?

Mmm, technically umm, crashed it. And it should be about… there.

Are you…

What? Careful, we don’t want to pinch too hard now. And best to take it back inside before the lookie-loos get too interested.

Are you kidding me? THIS is proof? THIS is your spaceship? THIS is a gelcap dunked in silver Rustoleum.

…obviously, limiting mass is an important part of accelerating to interstellar speeds…

It looks like a Barbie’s-First-Vibrator she got from a bachelorette party giftbag.

… doesn’t really make sense to have anything bigger than necessary…

No, no, I’m really happy we found this, I’m gonna call my middle school friend Bryan and let him know we can finally play Crossfire again.

“Hey Bryan, you know how we lost all the little shooty pieces in your backyard? Good news, I met this alien…”

… kind of seems like the species with access to interstellar travel would be the one with the superiority complex here…

Haa… Seriously, though, this is errant nonsense.

Say, how well can we whistle?

What?

Gall and brimstone!

Catastrophic drive failure. Irreparable hull damage. It’s a total write-off. Better shut it down. If you let it keep running the fusion by-products will build up and

You know, implode with a massively devastating energy. Here…

Cher, it’s AMAZING.

Yes.. it’s…

Amazing. You haven’t rested in a while, Bearer and the dramatic increase in pinenes have made me a bit… sleepy.

I didn’t know you ever slept.

Only for a few hours every couple weeks or so, usually. But this has been a difficult transition for both of us and I require rest, as do you.

Sure… it’s just, it’s kind of hard to sleep right after you see something like that. What should I do with this?

Mmm?

I guess I’d better hide it away just in case.

Here…

Keep it secret, keep it safe — Quaker Oat Man.

Need to lie down.

Yeah. Here we go…

Off to the bedroom, then… nice and comfy under the covers.

Cher, you awake?

Mmmm.

Strange. Strange to be alone with my thoughts again, finally. I think. I’m not sure I really believed any of this was real until today… but… Cher?

But somehow… I’m here and I’m alive, and I have to believe that’s better than the alternative.

What was that? Sounded like it was coming from outside. CHER, did you hear that? Cher?

Whatever it was, it’s gone now. Wait, I hear something else.

It’s getting louder.

Yeah. Yeah, this is real. Ah, Kowakian monkey-lizard balls.