Saturday, October 4, 2025

🦎 When Aliens Discovered Corporate Life: A Galactic Roast

In a world eight billion light-years away from Earth — where gas particles swell to the size of guavas and darkness exists only as an urban legend — a synthetic-leather structure stands firm against a planet that refuses to obey gravity. Fluid at its peak and solid at its base, it hums faintly, like a migraine given architectural form.


Beyond its walls, enormous floating mammals drift lazily through the radiant air while birdlike creatures shimmer between ultraviolet beams. It’s the kind of peaceful alien landscape that would make even gods sigh in relief — until the door slams open.

Far beyond Earth’s reach, a leather-like structure hums beneath glowing skies

Two humanoid figures stumble in, their once-pristine uniforms tattered, ties hanging limp like defeated flags. They collapse onto a sagging sofa before a massive wall-mounted screen — the only familiar relic of human civilization they’d brought home. Red goo trickles down the walls, pulsing in sync with the pair’s labored breathing.


They flicked a small silver device attached to the holes on the sides of their heads — a translator that allowed speech in the soundless atmosphere of their distant world.


“You done erasing their memory?” one asked, slowly peeling off his shoes with visible disgust. “Because if another ‘Roswell’ hits human news again, I’m not filing that paperwork. Last time took three solar cycles and a therapy voucher.”


The other humanoid said nothing, his lips twitching into what might generously be called a grin.


“You’re such an idiot,” the first muttered, playfully slapping his partner.


The pair continued undressing, their post-mission fatigue evident. Suddenly, the lights flickered — brightness vanished for half a second. When it returned, the two no longer resembled humans.


Now in their true forms — sleek, anthropomorphic lizards — they lounged on the couch, hind legs spread wide, each balancing a bowl of popcorn on their belly like gods of laziness.


One lizard grabbed the remote and powered on the massive screen. The playback began:

Their day on Earth — recorded in glorious HD.


The footage showed them in humanoid disguise infiltrating the White House alongside a wacky waving inflatable tube man and a suspicious container labeled Covfefe. Cut to them luring Bongbong Marcos into their ship with a cardboard cutout of Wendell Ramos and an alarming white trail of powder.


“Everything was going so well,” one lizard said between mouthfuls of popcorn. “We had them. But nooo, they said we had to stop.”


The footage jumped to the next segment: the humans’ corporate event.


“What do they call this again? Team building?” one lizard asked, squinting. “Look — they clap for everything… even slide transitions.”


His companion stayed silent, watching the flickering humans smile and nod.


“The creatures leading them — the ones called boss — they wear smiles wider than their own sanity,” the first continued. “But their eyes… they’re dead. It’s ritualistic. They spend a whole day pretending to be motivated. Just an illusion of purpose.”


“Yeah,” the quiet lizard replied, “and the ones sitting down aren’t even compensated.”


They both stared at the screen: a sea of overfed humans clapping politely while secretly praying for death — or coffee, whichever came first.


“They do this voluntarily? Without compensation?” one asked in horror. The other nodded solemnly.


“Pathetic,” the first hissed, standing in outrage and spilling popcorn everywhere. “They spend half their lives working and commuting, the other half sleeping, eating, and cleaning — just to repeat it all. And on their two free days, they’re summoned to this… ritual of productivity?”


He gestured wildly at the screen. “Disgusting!”


The quieter lizard finally spoke. “What puzzled me most,” he said thoughtfully, “was their obsession with ranking each other. Awards for attendance. Certificates for smiling. It’s as if existence itself must be quantified.”


His companion nodded furiously. “They call it ‘motivation,’ but it’s despair disguised as enthusiasm! I can’t believe these are the same beings who made Scarface… and Tool!”


The quiet one gave him a side-eye, unblinking.


“What’s with you wanting that rotund male to mate with the attractive females?” he asked flatly. “We were supposed to vaporize their leaders, not play matchmaker.”


The enthusiastic lizard froze, looking down in embarrassment. “I… just wanted to see it, okay?”


Seconds passed. The silence grew heavy.


Then — explosive laughter. “HAHAHA! You sick bastard!”


“DON’T BLAME ME! THEY CORRUPTED ME! THAT THING THEY CALL PORNOGRAPHY IS EVIL!”


The other lizard cackled harder. “Relax. God called off the hit on humans again — like He always does. You’ll have plenty of time to ‘study’ more of their cultural material.”


“STOP IT!! I AM NOT A PERVERT!”


“Sure, sure.” The quiet lizard switched channels.


A human news anchor appeared on screen. “Breaking news! An unidentified flying object has been spotted hovering over a hotel in Manila, Philippines.”


The two froze. One’s embarrassment twisted into rage.


“YOU IDIOT! WE GOT CAUGHT IN 4K AGAIN! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE I GOT FOR YOUR ROSWELL STUNT?!”


The enraged lizard flailed his arms, ranting at full volume — but his companion had already flicked his ear device off, muting the sound.

A cheeky alien lizard lounges after a failed Earth mission, flashing a heart with popcorn on its belly


Grinning, the quiet lizard mouthed, sowwy, and formed a heart shape with his little lizard fingers. The angry one’s silent fury filled the room as the red goo pulsed gently to the rhythm of interstellar mockery.


As the lizards bickered beneath the humming glow of their alien TV, somewhere light-years away, one tired human still nursed his coffee and questioned existence.


To see how their “field trip” on Earth unfolded, read the Gustavo’s Training Day trilogy and prologue.

Prologie: A Quiet Saturday Morning That Didn’t Last Long

Company Training Day 2025 (Part 1): Gustavo’s Saturday of Coffee and Chaos

Company Training Day 2025 (Part 2): Pastries, Speeches, and Starfish

Company Training Day 2025 (Part 3): Pastries, Humanoids, and Gustavo’s Brush with Destiny

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