The first of the leftovers, prompts I didn’t get written during the 8 hours of the ‘thon, from ysabetwordsmith‘s prompt “Aliens land in Washington, D.C. and say “Take me to your leader.” They are taken to a CEO instead of a politician.”

We’ll note I did a lousy job of sticking to wordcount in any way this time around. 260ish words.

The Anklea had listened to the radio transmissions and watched the video signals for years as they neared the Djarit-class planet, so that when they arrived, they would have a working understanding of the major languages and the expected landing protocols. They had practiced the language that appeared the most frequently until their extended muzzles and bifurcated tongues could handle the strange sounds.

It was a long journey. Their linguists wrote a Ankpose-to-English dictionary and then, when that bored them, an English-to-Ankpose. Their scientists wrote treatises on human biology; their engineers studied their greatest engineering achievements.

They landed their Visitation Vehicle in the water outside biggest city of the primarily-English-speaking continent and sent their best diplomats and their best linguists to make contact. When they encountered the first humans, standing on a dock staring at them, the chief diplomat proclaimed, in carefully-practiced English, “take us to your leader!”

The CEO of the marketing firm overlooking the Bay was the nearest leader around, and she was having lunch with her press secretary. The press secretary took one long look at the Anklea, enough to ascertain that they were unlikely to be humans with clever prosthetics, and called the media, while the CEO called her lawyers.

By dinner, all rights to the Anklean’s images belonged to the company, and they had artists working on a comic and a plushy doll. By Friday, the whole world had heard of the alien visitors, and their image as slightly-absentminded professor types was well-cemented. With their long, peltlike coats and their muzzlelike faces, they did look a bit canine, after all, and everyone like a shaggy dog story.

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We had our Drakeathon Pizza last night! It was feta-and-fresh-tomato pizza and a spicy roast beef sub from Joe’s Carryout, and it was delicious!

I am staring at teenycon and thinking the e-book needs at least one sketch. Were there any images that were particularly iconic or memorable from the ‘thon writing?

Edited to add: I’m thinking the mini-fic I did for Wyst – the cat-people asleep in their basket. Now to figure out how catty they are.