<Sci-Fi>

[Established Universe: Inside Job]

"Wait, that was an option the entire time?" the President asked, looking out the White House window at the alien mothership that was trying to land on the Washington Monument. It continued to lower itself halfway down the monument and then lift back up. The President had no idea how the statue was somehow delaying the invasion but was grateful for the first time since his inauguration photo op that the massive brick waste of space existed.

"Yeah, totally," Rand said, leaning back in the chair with his feet up on the President's desk. Respect was not a language the CEO of Cognito Inc. spoke, "I mean, I'd give that thing a fifty megaton enema right now if I could find the remote. Nuke that bastard back into the Kuyper Belt. Damn waste of a nuke, locked up in that big stone penis," he grumbled.

The President pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Fuck it, summon Cthulhu."

"Way ahead of ya," Rand said, finishing sending a text message to his daughter.

On the other side of the city, way below ground at level negative-seventy-seven. Reagan Ridley's phone buzzed on the table. Yet another text from her asshole father. She wanted to ignore it, but the buzzing persisted, so she swore and checked the messages. The message spam that her dad flooded her phone with had buried the initial message so she had to scroll past a bunch of Pick up and Buzz buzz! messages.

"Whaddup Space-Jamma Mamma?" Brett, the too-handsome blank slate of a human asked, wheeling up on an office chair next to Reagan.

"My dad needs us to summon Cthulu," Reagan said, tossing her phone over her shoulder to the floor while going back to pouring her eighth cup of coffee, "Something about an alien invasion or some shit, I don't know."

"OH!" Brett said, "So that's why Independence Day is trending on Twitter," he pulled out his phone and pulled up a gif of the mothership on the monument, "I thought they were filming another sequel." His excited expression melted into a frown, "Awww, does this mean we're not getting an I.D. 3?"

"Only if God exists and is merciful," Reagan muttered, "Just go to conference room 666 and tell them Project Green...light? Green smoke? Just tell those creepy fish fucks they can do the ritual."

"Can-do boss!" Brett said, standing up with a salute.

"And wear a poncho!" Reagan called after him, not wanting Brett to follow her around smelling like fish eggs all day.

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r/TomesOfTheLitchKing