"You spineless bastard!" said Romola through clenched teeth when they were back in her flat. "You could have stood up for me!"
"How did I know he was going to turn himself into a bloody monkey?"
"Because he turned a space ship into a bouncy castle?"
Gerald sat down next to her on the sofa, put his hand on her thigh and leant over to kiss her.
"Fuck off, Gerald."
"Don't be like that."
"Like what?"
"Remote and indifferent. You weren't like that this morning in the shower."
"This morning I hadn't had some wanker prematurely ejaculate all over me and then stand by while a psychopathic lesbian with a big bum tortured and insulted me."
"What could I do? She was a policewoman and I'm deputy-chairman of the Law and Order Committee."
"No, you're a total wanker, Gerald. Please take your hand off my leg."
"What's a 'wanker?" asked Yyerg, squatting down opposite them.
"Someone who stands by while a sadistic dyke with a big bum shoves her hand in his girlfriend's knickers and then chickens out when she tries to get him off the hook."
"You called me a lunatic!" protested Gerald.
"Would you have preferred to spend the weekend in a cell with a sadistic dyke with a fat bottom?"
Gerald relapsed into silence. Yyerg regarded them sorrowfully with his big yellow eyes and muttered something in his unintelligible language.

"So how did you turn yourself into a monkey?" asked Romola.
"I extended the cloaking field from the ship."
"Have a chocolate hob nob."
"Hob nob?" repeated Yyerg.
Romola handed him the packet.
"Oh — those...No, thank you."
Romola lowered her voice and leaned closer to Yyerg. "You seemed to enjoy them in the car."
The alien shuffled uncomfortably and avoided her eyes.
"They make you randy, don't they?"
"No."
"Then what were you doing with my handbag in the back of my car?"
"Nothing."
Romola gazed deeply into his frightened yellow eyes and said huskily. "You're so cute."
"What are you two whispering about?" asked Gerald.
"Nothing," said Romola.
"So what's the range of this cloaking device?" he asked Yyerg.
"About two of your miles."
"Shame — it could have been useful."
"Useful for what?" asked Romola. "Disguising the fact that you're a complete knobhead?"
"You're not going to let me forget this, are you?"
"Why should I? That bitch really hurt me."
"What's a knob—?"
"—OH SHUT UP YYERG!" they said together.
"Can you turn into anything?" asked Romola.
"Only living creatures."
"That rules Gerald out then."

Gerald scowled and got up. "I need a stiff drink".
Romola smiled sweetly at Yyerg and wondered, not for the first time, just what the impressive bulge between his lower legs concealed. "He really is rather good-looking in a strange sort of way..." she said to herself. "I wonder what it would feel like to have those four arms wrapped around me..?"
Yyerg fidgeted uncomfortably and wondered, not for the first time, what the two hemispherical bumps beneath her garment were and just what unspeakable acts she could perform with them. Gerald went into the kitchen and poured himself a whisky and wondered why there was no tonic (again). "Just how far will she go with that alien?" he said to himself. "I wonder what it's like to be hung like that?" Next door, the curtains twitched as Mrs Froggitt wondered what a rather attractive monkey with four arms wearing a checked sports jacket and a pair of women's jeans several sizes too small for it was doing in Romola's flat. The jeans wondered what the hell they'd done to deserve such humiliation and ripped noisily.

"Come and sit next to me, Yyerg," said Romola, patting the spot vacated by Gerald, "and tell me what the girls are like on your planet."
Yyerg reluctantly obeyed and perched himself on the edge of the sofa as far away from the intimidating Earth girl as possible and surveyed the tear between his legs with mounting alarm. The jeans glared back at him and ripped a bit further.
"Yes, tell us," said Gerald, coming back into the room. "We're dying to know."
"Like me, only bigger."
"B-bigger!" spluttered Gerald, choking on his whisky.
"In what way?" asked Romola, edging nearer, her eyes riveted to the widening rip in her jeans.
"They're stronger and taller", replied Yyerg edging further away from her.
"Like me?"
"None of our females are as tall as you — or as strong", he added warily.
"I won't bite you, you know."
Gerald snorted derisively. "Don't bet on it."
"Have a hob nob", said Romola.
"No thank you," said Yyerg.
"Do you have a girlfriend at home?" she asked.
"No."
Yyerg was drowning in her eyes and clutched at the arm of the sofa for support.
"I've never had a girlfriend..." he added shyly.

Gerald uttered an exclamation and stalked into the kitchen to get another drink. Romola gazed longingly at the bulge bursting out from between the alien's legs. Yyerg twisted away, lost his balance and fell at her feet. The bulge shrank back in alarm.
"Alien Earth girl only want Y-Yerg for mindless sex..." he said in a trembling voice.
"I don't know about mindless..." replied Romola, huskily. "Go on, have a hob nob".
"No."
"One won't hurt you."
"Well — just one then..." Yyerg took a biscuit and bit off a corner cautiously. Tears gathered in his big yellow eyes. Romola moved closer and whispered:
"What about those abductions? Didn't you say you've been abducted eight times?"
Yyerg swallowed. "Those aliens didn't have the right bits..."
"But I do?" asked Romola, no longer trying to conceal the excitement in her voice.
"Yes."
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I saw what was in your pants."
"Did you like what you saw?"
"No— yes — no, I can't remember..." said Yyerg, turning a deep shade of green.
“Have another hob nob.”
“No.” The bulge between his legs told her a different story.
“Oh, go on. You know you want to.”
Yyerg took another biscuit and swallowed it whole. Then he took two more.
Romola giggled. “I could make you very happy — Yyergie. Would you like that?”
“Yes - no - yes,” he replied indicisively. The bulge between his legs was anything but indecisive and grew a bit bigger. Romola felt herself getting ever so slightly moist and rewarded it with a playful squeeze.
“Well — I'm off home,” announced Gerald from the doorway. “I need to get something hot inside me.”
“So do I,” murmured Romola.
The door closed.
“NOW...” she said huskily, “Let's get those jeans off you...”