Xaviers!

A meteor streaks across the night-sky crashes to the ground in a backyard. A flabbergasted young man runs out into the yard and watches as a pink blob oozes from the cracked piece of rock. A rapid sequence of cuts. Basil pulling on a chair that's half engulfed in the pink blob. Basil trying to bake a cake while the blob tries to gobble up the raw ingredients, one leg and a hand stuck in the slime as he tries in vain to push the blob away. Basil talking two two very official-looking government agents in black suits while pink slime oozes through the room behind him. Freezeframe on his expression that's somewhere between panic and exasperation.

Starring Basil Benson and Colette Rosenhof

Library shot: Suburban middle-class family home front exterior, crane shot, slow zoom from medium-long shot to medium shot before fading transition to establishing shot. Bumper begins playing during library shot and continues into establishing shot.

Establishing shot: Idealized generic teenaged American boy's room, decorated with posters, action figures, etc. Camera pans from left to right then down, focusing on a large green sandbox that's been pulled out from under an unmade bed. The lid to it jostles.

Reading what appears to be an adult magazine but played down for PG audiences called " GIRLZ", Basil sighed at the jostling and looked over the edge of his bed, frowning.

"Yea yea." He responded in an equally stereotypical American accent, and picked up a bag of jelly beans, kicking the lid away and dumping most of the contents into the pool.

The pool was full of a thick pink gooey substance which jiggled and bubbled as the jellybeans broke the surface tension and sank into it's opaque form.

Laugh track plays.

"Get yourself an intergalactic space alien for a pet they said! It will be fun they said!" Another laugh track.

"You're about as fun as a trip to the dentist." Again, canned laughter.

A large bubble expands from the surface of the pool and pops, emitting a sort of fart or raspberry sound.

"Mmmmhmm.. Riveting come back." he replied, tossing his bikini magazine into the gelatinous mess in frustration.

Camera pans downward to a close up shot, showing the magazine slowly sinking into the pink slime mass. Bumper plays as the scene transitions from lighted bedroom set to the same bedroom with lighting lowered to simulate night.

From offset, the sound of objects being moved clumsily can be heard.

Basil quickly throws back a blanket from over his head. He had been reading another girly magazine (apparently they had two of those props?) by flashlight underneath it

Waving the flashlight around wildly in a fashion that didn't make it actually land on anything, he cries out-

"Who's there?!" And everything is tensely quiet.

The quiet was broken by another clatter, the sound of glass bottles tapping against each other and dragged across metal racking. The muffled sound suggested it was coming from within the house but outside the bedroom.

Basil jumped out of bed and grabbed a cricket racquet (Why did he have this? He was American) and began to stalk downstairs.

A jump cut to the kitchen found him sneaking in under his blanket with the racquet wielded over his head.

"... Hello?"

The darkness of the kitchen was broken by the light shining out from the open refrigerator door, the contents within having been rummaged through and made a mess of. A second shadow was cast on the wall behind Basil's own, though that was only visible to the viewer.

His cricket bat well about his head, he crept up on the open fridge door with a dramatic musical sting.

In true hack writing, Basil rounded the fridge door just to have a cat shriek and hit against his chest as thought it had been thrown at him by an unseen stagehand, the creature hissing and howling before jumping onto the kitchen counter and leaping out through the open window. Those awful next door neighbours, they never took their cat Salem in at night, and they were always looking in his yard; especially since the meteor landed.

Basil clawed at his own face comically to shoo away the cat, but once it was off him his posture sank in relief.

He slammed the window shut in a fashion no normal person would (way too hard), and began picking up things off the floor, oblivious to the looming shadow in the background. Because of course he was.

In a side shot with Basil crouching between the fridge door and the camera, facing into the fridge, shadowy hands appeared from and disappeared into the darkness. They reached into the fridge to take out things he had just put in there when he turned away, and later began to hand things to him to put away.

Basil took on a frustrated look at first, confused by why the shit he put back was out again. When the shadowy figure started to help he thanked it -"Oh hey, thanks." Before realizing it was a sign he wasn't alone and jumping nearly out of his skin to turn towards his helper.

The figure reacted much as Basil had, jumping back into the shadows, a humanoid shaped darker void barely standing out in the darkness.

Basil scurried for the light to try to get a head on who the he'll was in his kitchen.

The shadow loomed large and threatening, with misshapen jagged teeth and large claws.

Until the lights turned on.

Standing in Basil's kitchen was a large and shapely gooey form. Several popsicles protruded from it's mouth, some pointing the wrong way, and there was a bunch of carrots in one of it's hands. It remained still for a moment, staring back at Basil before the popsicles began to slowly wiggle and move deeper into it's head.

The audience reacted to the reveal accordingly.

"I-You-it-...

WHAT?!" He exclaimed at the thing that had emptied out his fridge and helped itself to a entire box of popsicles.

"I was saving those!"

The slime woman made a swallowing motion before it's cheeks moved as though it were swishing something around in it's mouth. She brought her free hand up to her mouth and offered the now bare popsicle sticks back to Basil. Well they were mostly bare, there was her slime spittle on it.

"Yea... thanks..." He grimaced, letting the disgusting mess fall to the floor.

"What happened to you? Why are you so....

Hot now?"

The woman... well it looked like a woman so that seemed an appropriate assumption, tilted her head in confusion. It's arm stretched across the kitchen to slap hard against a draw, opening it and clumsily digging inside before it produced a small meat thermometer. It promptly stabbed it into it's thigh and turned to show the gauge to Basil, giving the audience a good look at it's rump in the process.

"Whoa hey! hahahahaha=" Basil laughed awkwardly, covering up her butt with his hands and hiding it from.... Who exactly?

"We're prime-time, kids are watching!"

The thing that was Colette, yet not, looked even more confused now, looking to Basil before where he was trying to block her from. She leaned toward the camera and squinted, as though trying to see the viewer through the monitor. But this was quickly put a stop to as actors aren't supposed to look at the camera.

Basil cleared his throat awkwardly. "Stay here."

After a quick time skip, Basil was shown returning to the kitchen with armloads of frumpy womens clothes which he unceremoniously dumped on the floor.

"Here. Put something on. My moms clothes should fit.... mostly." He said, clearly staring at her chest. All women's clothes fit the same when everyone was ideal.

The goo girl looked at the pile of clothing before diving into it; literally, like a dog leaping into a pile of leaves. They rustled and bounced before she emerged. What would have been a modest hoodie and a pair of mom jeans were instead stretched past their normal capacity, excess goo spilling out of the worn-through patches of the jeans in several spots, and the hoodie showing off her bare midriff. She looked down at herself and turned around, looking a little disappointed at the selection. She began to bob her head forward and back before her lips parted around a soggy rolled up magazine. Pulling it from her mouth she tapped her finger to the pictures of women in tiny swimsuits and then pointed to the clothing pooled around her feet... did she have feet?

"Pbbbt!"

"Hey! Where did you-" Basil paused for dramatic emphasis.

"Oooohh, I get it! You ate my book and turned into a real girl!" He explained. Narrative exposition boy tells instead of shows. In case you couldn't follow the plot.

"I don't want you wearing my mom's swimsuit girl-dude. That's weird."

Apparently even he had limits.

Were Colette able to communicate she would have explained that Basil had provided her with the basic technical schematics for a bipedal form suited for this planet, and that she had done her best to adapt her form to these crude schematics. Of course she more understood Basil's tone than words because she's an alien my dude you ever tried learning Spanish that's still based on Latin it has shared origins what the hell was her language laws?

Instead she tugged at the bottom of the hoodie,before she crossed her arms, apparently not entirely satisfied with the clothing she'd been supplied but accepting it nonetheless.

Basil frowned, leaving the ginormous mess on the floor.

Someone else would pick that up eventually. Like all the messes he made.

"Well now what? What am I supposed to do with a gelatinous alien girlfriend? I can't just take you to like, the mall or something. Do you even like the mall?"

Colette blinked her eyes, not in unison either, her expression not showing an ounce of comprehension.

"Pbbt?"

"Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?"

Colette wrinkled her brow a little bit and raised a hand, moving it in a gesture of "kind of", tilting her palm left then right repeatedly.

"I guess we better teach you to talk American before we start taking big, outdoor type steps."

He replied as an upbeat tune swelled in the background.

Basil and Colette too were treated to the montage sequence of him teaching her English with children's blocks, flash cards, picture books and even one of those wheel toys (the music aren't dead silent as Basil pulled the little handle to make it proclaim 'the cow goes moooooo'. The progressing scenes showed Colette's comprehension of the language improving, until she was reading food packages from the fridge on her own, discarding things she could now ID as low glucose.

The end of it saw Basil reading one of his magazines to her, one of the classy editorials about threesomes no doubt

Throughout the sequence Colette had various reactions, going from confused to shots of her understanding and celebrating - be it with hugs or high fives. After the first reference to the barnyard sound spinner it kept being worked back into the montage, her reaction always the same; clapping her hands in glee at the noises. But by the end she was wearing thick-rimmed glasses and had her goo hair up in a sort of bun, which was the universal sign of being a smarty-pants.

Of course while she could understand Basil, being understood was a different matter. Language was a different matter. She was pretty good at pantomiming the message she was trying to convey but as far as spoken word she was still stuck on the raspberries, just in different tones. Well that wasn't completely true, she had managed to learn one more word.

"Moo?"

"Mooo." He replied in call and response. "What's up goober?" He asked.

Colette tapped the back of her wrist, held up four fingers, then walked two fingers along the length of her arm. "Time for walk?" In her simple improvised language, her attempt at asking if she were ready to go out in public with him.

"Sure!" He said. "We can go out and explore the neighborhood. I could use a bit of boardin'." He jumped up from the bed and grabbed a skateboard to head outside.

Colette bounced with happiness, her jello jigglers especially, and quickly put on a pair of yellow rubber boots which did not match her outfit in the slightest. Apparently she still had trouble with laces.