Wayne Griffin lay on his manky apartment floor like an overturned starfish.
He tried to think of a way out of this misery, but his mind always spiraled back to the same conclusion: he was stuck here, on Earth. Forever.
*Don't cry, don't cry*.
He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed himself for being such an emotionally unbalanced animal. Enough of this.
As much as he hated to accept it, Mr. Zebra was right. Wanye needed to sort his life out.
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Staci buried their face in their hands. They were still wearing their disguise. They felt ridiculous in it like they were bastardising their natural (beautiful) complexion. That was the most patriotic thought they'd had in weeks (Also, Staci didn't like the way it felt on their skin).
They took off the mask, by pressing on their temples in a specific place and pulling forward. It made a satisfying shk noise. Their crow-haired wig flopped to the ground.
Without the mask on, Staci Valun bore no resemblance to Wayne Griffin (which was sort of the point of having a disguise);
Staci's actual epidermis was black and completely hairless, like a matte ant. They had no nose. Their cheeks were hollow, and their jawline was razor-sharp. Running their hand over the back of their head, they felt the stubs where their horns once sprouted from; they were starting to grow back. Staci would have to start filing them soon.
If a human saw Staci without their disguise, they'd probably describe them as 'demonic'. However, Staci was an atheist.
They sniffed (somehow), frustrated.
Staci looked up at their kitchen counter and saw this weird ginger Cheshire Cat bobblehead Mr. Zebra had sent them as a housewarming gift grinning at them. Tauntingly.
What? Staci wanted to ask it. But they didn't, because it couldn't talk. They snatched it off the counter and hid it in the pot drawer, where it wouldn't bother them again.
They decided to clean up the place a bit; fold blankets; wash dishes; hide away their disguise in a secret compartment behind their nightstand – it was an obvious hiding spot, they could admit that, but they weren't too concerned about anyone finding it.
What would an intruder do, steal it? That could be a problem; alien technology falling into human hands... But Mr. Zebra would assassinate anyone who found out about them. Maybe; Staci wasn't sure about the extent of his abilities.
Either way, who cares?
Staci used to care about a lot of things a little too much. But after landing on Earth, they felt a lack of motivation, like their blood had been replaced by cold, sad lead. And it wasn't from the change in planetary gravitational force.
After their apartment looked less gross, Staci sat down at their over-varnished dining table and committed to tackling their problems.
Jobs.
Staci scoffed. They didn't want to get a job; they'd like to keep their interaction with the indigenous species to a minimum. Partly to maintain a low profile, partly because they didn't like to talk to people if it wasn't about crime, and partly because humans scared them a bit.
Besides, the jobs here were probably boring as hell. God, how they missed their life. Staci rested their chin on their palm.
Well, why not?
Why couldn't Staci become a detective on Earth?
Of course, the program wouldn't approve. 'Maintain a low profile'. Fuck that. Fuck them - They didn't have to live on this degenerate planet. And if Staci didn't get caught, what did it matter?
Staci felt hope slap them in the face with a fish, and they couldn't help but smile a bit. Staci was going to be the best damn detective Earth had ever seen.
Yes! Staci needed to write this down.
Plan to take over the world:
1. Ask Mr. Zebra for fake qualifications to put on a resume for a job
2. Get a job, raise enough money to get into university
3. Go to university, study relentlessly
4. Get a degree in criminal justice, move to a larger country with more crime
5. Enroll in police academia, be recognised for brilliance, get an internship
6. Be a better detective than the actual detectives and get hired
7. Climb the ranks as high as possible
8. Become a special agent/diplomat/politician
9. Reveal my identity, hope they don't burn me on a stake
10. Put all human resources into taking down the shadow government
11. Help Earth intergrade with the Intergalactic Federacy
12. Become one of the most influential beings in the galaxy
13. Profit
A decent draft, Staci was proud.
They clicked their pen, then whipped out their phone and called Mr. Zebra.
"Wayne?" Mr. Zebra croaked groggily.
"Yes, hello."
"Mate, it's 2 am, what's wrong?"
"Sorry, I forgot, you're diurnal"
"You're meant to be as well now, remember?"
Griffin grumbled under his breath.
Mr. Zebra sighed audibly "why did you call me?"
"I need some qualifications... to get a job"
"Taking initiative, I see-"
"-Yes"
"Good, good. Only, if you were paying attention, you'd have known we've already given you 10 NCEA level 2 credits for literacy and, 10 for maths as well."
"...I don't know what that means"
"It's enough to get you a minimum wage job,"
"Oh okay."
"Ka pai. Anything else you want to ask me?"
"Uh, no."
"If you think of anything else, call me. Maybe when the sun's out though, aight?"
"Yep."
"Ka kite."
"Bye," Wayne replied, but Mr. Zebra had already hung up.
Well, time to take over the world.1.