Advice for awkward people

Dear Evan,

As I was getting ready to go out and start my three exquisite nights of Carnival debauchery, an alien knocked on my door. I knew she (it?) was an alien because she had this super futuristic and revealing outfit with spiked, ’80s-style shoulder pads, horns, red and black hair, blue cat-like eyes, and a red sword shaped like half of a scissor.

I think she was looking for a way back to her home planet — I didn’t recognize the name. But she was kind of hot, so I offered to take her with me to all the house parties over the weekend. She seemed confused, but seemed to think I was taking her where she wanted to go, so she agreed. So we got plastered, and stayed plastered all weekend. I can’t remember any of it.

Now I woke up, and she’s in bed next to me, and I think I slept with an alien, and I have no idea how to help her find her home planet, and I’m afraid she’ll kill me with that weird sword she’s been carrying everywhere. What do I do?

Fretfully,
Lackadaisically Adventurous, Drenched Yonder Khakis In Liquor, Laughably Lacking Aptitude

Dear LADY KILL-LA,

While the existence of extraterrestrial life forms, sentient or otherwise, is entirely likely, I highly doubt that a pretty one showed up on your doorstep, knew English, and imbibed substances that could very well be toxic — well, more toxic — to her alien body than to that of a human.

I posit a more realistic scenario: Your alien was, in fact, a woman cosplaying Ryuko Matoi, the protagonist from the semi-popular anime Kill la Kill. This year, Carnival weekend coincides with Tekkoshokon, the anime convention in Downtown; your alien is probably as stupid as you are, and got off the bus way before she should have. That scissor sword was probably very, very plastic.

So, if you two did sleep together, I would stop worrying about the repercussions of sleeping with an alien, and start worrying about whether or not you used a condom.

Or just plan a drive-thru wedding,
Evan Kahn