Ali the Xenomorph and the Twerk Adventure

Say hello to my little friend

Ali woke up one morning and felt bored with his life. Stuck in a job he was not happy in, living in a city and not fitting in, he felt like staying in bed for the entire day. 

Just another crap day

He decided that he needed more… he needed to feel alive… he needed to dance.  He needed the rhythm to pulse in his veins, to flow in his body acid. He needed to Twerk with Somebody!!! He felt the beat in his body, he wanted to bring out the melody, he swanked out on the street, and he felt like Toby Maguire in a bad Spiderman film. 

"Laydeeees..."

He saw people living their lives, rushing about, pleasing no-one, least of all themselves. He walked up to the first attractive lady he saw and asked for a dance.

 

CANIDANCEWITCHUPLEEASE??!!!

Even though she had a gun aimed at his chest, she ran off screaming. Clearly he was a little rusty, he hadn’t asked a lady for a dance in quite a while and might have botched it. Perhaps he should try to tone it down, play it cool. He found another lady.

Hello...

"Excuse me my dear", he said, putting on needlessly posh English accent for some reason. "I was admiring your beauty and grace from across the street  and I was wondering whether you would care to share a dance with me, a Twerk on this most perfect day." Unfortunately she was actually Veronica Cartwright, who had witnessed Ali popping out of John Hurt's chest as a baby.

"You Bastard! How dare you? Stop talking to me!", she screamed and ran off.

Of course Ali didn’t remember her from his early childhood and was left utterly confused and saddened.

well he didn't exactly stop to take in names and faces before pissing off to hide.

He thought perhaps he was giving off too much of a creepy loner vibe? Ali called up two of his closest friends Alf and Axel to wingman him into the twerkpot. They had moves, they had sass, ultimately though they began to feel like three xenomorphs wiggling out in the street.

Y'all know who this is

However, Ali felt a presence watching them. He dropped down to do the splits and when he arose, he turned to find a Predator Hunter standing directly behind him. He always knew this day would come, he was going to be gutted like a xeno-fish. He readied the acid in his bladder as a pre-emptive strike measure. But the Predator did something strange, he began to shake his hips and flap his arms rhythmically. 

Hello, is it me you're looking for?

Ali wondered whether this was a new ritual before the kill. Strangely though, the Predator gave him the come hither eyes, and thrusted his body suggestively. Ali, hypnotized by the snake like movements began to move his head from side to side, the next thing he knew he was doing the same with his shoulders while snapping his fingers, and the next, he was going full on Jackie Chan in Rush Hour mode.

What is it good for, absolutely nothing!

 Gloria Estefan just happened to be walking past singing :

Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga
I know you can't control yourself any longa
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronga
Don't you fight it 'til you tried it, do the conga beat

Everybody gather 'round now
Let your body feel the heat
Don't you worry if you can't dance
Let the music move your feet

She was the JLO of our times

By this time a huge crowd had surrounded them, urging them to do crazier and crazier dance moves. The next thing he knew he saw the Predator had worked himself up in a Latin frenzy and was twerking so hard that eventually his twerk fell off. An audible gasp escaped from some in the crowd, but more simply walked away. Ali however stood shocked. He had now witnessed the horrors of being twerkless.

I think his ass just exploded

He decided that perhaps fame  and recognition brought with it an expectation of excellence. He also suspected that once he stopped being good at the twerk, he would just be forgotten and alone, like the poor twerkless Predator. He decided these were issues he would have to consider seriously at some point, and he would return home so that he could twerk another day.  

But not before signing a few autographs and posing for a few photos.

He returned home to his son, who had not been mentioned before, but genuinely did exist, and, who was still in the human-host stage of development. He said: “Son, today I learned a valuable lesson: You see, it can’t be all twerk and no play, but sometimes you gotta do the dirty twerk.  Even though you may be able twerk your fingers to the bone, you should never twerk your arse off for anyone. You got that son?”

What's the matter with you, grow a giant dong on your head already.

His son just smiled, for he was a child and knew nothing.

RB