Micro-Mismanagement

Sharpton, California

East Circle Suburbs

Today was conflicting. Mornings were the best, as my mood took the entire show. At the Extraterrestrial Alliance Space Agency, both humans and aliens worked together. I don’t believe that shit. Aliens were abominations against humanity. The mystery behind treaties amongst those monsters will never get solved.

I, Mitch Prince, refused any bondage with those hideous beings. My subordinate, Philip Blanchard, was pathetic as always, messing up the documents and stuttering like a broken record. God, speaking wasn’t too hard, dammit. After a tough lecture to Philip, my boss, the gorgeous Louise Stanton, shared exciting news. I got promoted to vice president! My hard work paid off!

Even though Louise was a stern woman, my charming appeal always made her thighs moist and pleasurable. That’s what being a man was; bulging muscles and six feet of masculinity. After work, I returned home to spread news about my promotion. However, what I saw was too embarrassing. My five-year-old son, Sam Prince, was enjoying his ant farm in the backyard. I’d told him a shit-ton of times to throw that away.

That woman doesn’t listen to a single fucking word I say. She was with her friends when I returned home, so I took matters into my goddamn hands. I threw the ant farm into our pool. He cried like a bitch, which got annoying. I’d slapped him five times, a red hand marked his tiny cheek. He slumped on the patio steps, sobbing and gibbering about his ants. When the woman saw the incident, she frowned at me. It wasn’t the frown she always expressed.

More like boiling rage than depression. We had our first argument since our honeymoon. Alyssa was a meek woman, soft with her words and open to others. Our argument lasted for hours until Alyssa tended to Sam’s feelings. Meanwhile, I drowned myself in whiskey and tequila. Alcohol was my scapegoat from fatherhood and stressful work.

Well, those events were over. Tomorrow will begin a new day. Me, Mitch Prince, vice president of EASA. Oh, I can see my future now. Earth at peace and rid of those disgusting aliens. Hours passed, my slumber felt blissful, but then a vibrant light flashed outside. The backyard coated in white. It woke me up and annoyed the hell out of my relaxing sleep. “Alright, Jefferson! Stop flashing your damn light! It’s…” I’d checked the alarm clock. “Three am in the fucking morning! Are you trying to ruin my routine with your technical bull-shit!?”

No response. The hums blared louder. Suspicious, I trudged to the patio door and opened it. The crisp air blew onto my face, chilling mild sweat. I’d glanced upward and saw the unthinkable. Light shined above the backyard, its source was a circular UFO. A hatch slid open, and a person descended to the ground. Shit, shit, shit!

I jogged to the patio, through the doorway, and shut the door. With the lock sealed, I hurried to the house phone and dialed 9-1-1. “Hello, Sharpton Police Department? This is Mitch Prince, future vice president of EASA. An alien is attempting to abduct me! Get your fat asses here!”

The patio door squeaked, meaning that alien bastard unlocked it. How!? The lock was indoor! Footsteps thudded the carpet floor. Dammit! I hung up and faced the perp. “Get back your motherfucker!”

“Don’t be afraid, Mr. Prince.”

The alien’s modest tone paused me. Before me was a scrawny alien wearing body armor over a white spandex suit. He had a pair of wiry antennas growing from his forehead. Locks of red hair flowed over a nonexistent hairline. The weird fucking part was the guy’s skin color. A reddish-brown, which looked like a bad tan. A really fucking bad one.

Judging by his appearance, I laughed. “Are you for real? My abductor is a scrawny weakling! I’d felt dumb calling the police.”

‘Is this the man? The physical descriptions match, but his personality is worse than I thought. Far worse.’

“What brings you here, weakling?” I crossed my arms and smirked. This alien can’t be serious. Picking a fight with me?

“I’m here to take you to O’Brien Rehab Limited.”

O’Brien Rehab Limited? Never heard of that place.

“An anonymous client picked you for our twelve-step rehabilitation program. It may be late, but I had to pick other clients on the way.”

“Whatever you’re saying, I’m not going. The police will arrive to arrest you, but first…”

I cracked my knuckles, a satisfying vibration tickled my bones. The alien expressed boredom. Heh, he’s probably used to this shit. Well, I’ll show that grotesque beast not to abduct Mitch Prince. Just as I reeled my fist back, something sharp landed on my stomach. It spread quick and froze my body in place.

My eyes strained to look down. I caught what caused the agonizingly intense pain. The alien’s fist, which was smaller than mine, plunged straight into my hard abdomen. “H-How is that… Ugh!”

Blackness clouded my mind.

Two Weeks Ago

The Tiny Voyage (2:30pm)

‘You useless woman! These dishes aren’t clean properly!’

‘Get your shit together and prepare dinner! My coworkers will arrive shortly, so act elegant for me!’

‘Can you tell our pathetic son to throw that ant farm away? It’s embarrassing!’

I shook my head, dark circles throbbed hard under my eyes. I stood near ‘The Tiny Voyage,’ sipping black coffee. The hot temperature warmed my muscles and skin. My mind felt like scrambled eggs, but rotted from summer heat.‘He never understands the stress he’s piling onto me and Sam. Sam’s already getting bullied by his classmates, because of his obsession with ants. I tried comforting him, but Mitch kept berating Sam’s hobbies, pressuring him to throw away the ant farm my grandparents bought him.’

My cell phone, an oval-shaped disc with a touch screen, rang. I pressed the call button, a holographic image of a tinzie appeared. A tinzie is a miniature race, mixed between ants and an unknown species. Dr. O’Brien discovered the species hundreds of years ago. He also created a rehabilitation center far away from Earth. It became the best rehabilitation center in the cosmos. Anyone, whether they were an addict or suffered from a disorder, can heal and accept their flaws.

The tinzie brushed his silky red hair back and smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Prince. I’m Albert, member of the O’Brien Rehab Limited.”

“Hi, Albert.”

“You’ve called our services last night. Can you explain why?”

“Well, it’s not about me. It’s my husband, Mitch Prince.”

Inhale, then exhale. I cleared my throat and explained Mitch’s problematic behavior to Albert. He nodded, wrote notes on his circular notepad, and skimmed what he got. I, meanwhile, explained every detail of Mitch Prince. He was an egotistical man, believing strength and recognition were superior. He worked at EASA, or the Extraterrestrial Alliance Space Agency. A company built to form bonds with aliens across the universe.

The reason he applied there was to eradicate aliens. For unknown reasons, Mitch hated aliens. He can’t explain, but threatened anyone who questioned. I asked once and Mitch gave me a black eye. My left eye twitched from the memory resurfacing. “Self-entitled, superficial, loves power and fame. Is there anything that he has?”

“Well, he’s rude to his subordinates.”

Uh, I meant one subordinate. Mitch had five, but four left from stress and traumatic experiences under his management. Philip Blanchard, a freshman employee, remained Mitch’s subordinate.

Because of Mitch’s insults and physical abuse, Philip acted quiet. His performance dwindled from work stress and PTSD.

I’d felt bad for him, but I couldn’t help either. Albert nodded again, writing notes. “Is he a good father to his son?”

I shook my head, a frown deepened and tears leaked. “H-He’s a horrible, horrible father!”

Although bystanders heard my cries, I sobbed. Hands over eyes and tear drops slipping through fingers. The table cloth soaked each droplet, almost spreading to my mug of coffee. “He doesn’t appreciate Sam’s hobbies, piles house chores on me, and drinks alcohol three times a day! Three fucking times!”

My swearing never came out, but overwhelming stress and depression took me. It was too much. This sharing to a complete stranger was awkward, but Albert stayed silent. After writing enough notes, he clapped and smiled. “Okay, I have all the notes for Mitch Prince. In a week, I’ll take him to the rehabilitation center and begin his program. Mrs. Prince?”

The holographic image of Albert leaned forward, his hand landing on my shoulder. I didn’t feel it, but from Albert’s perspective, it was. “I promise you, Mitch will be a better man.”

I couldn’t deny Albert’s smile. Tinzies were a peaceful race. Earth formed a friendly bond with them fifty years ago, before the O’Brien Rehab Limited hired them as staff members. I smiled, my chest feeling lighter.

After my call with Albert, I finished my coffee and paid the cashier. When I returned home, I saw Mitch yelling at Sam, who was crying. In Mitch’s hand was the ant farm Sam cherished. Oh, not this again. I negotiated Mitch to give back the ant farm to Sam. Once Sam had his ant farm back, he thanked me and ran to his bedroom. We had our argument again, but in its conclusion, Mitch punched me in the face. He didn’t hit my eye, just my right cheekbone. I thought I felt a bone crack.

I had second opinions about the program. Whether it’ll reform Mitch, I wanted him out of our lives.

O’Brien Rehab Center, Waiting Room (6am)

Ugh, what the fucking hell? My mind blinked, adrenaline coursing through my veins, blood warming up my muscles. Growls rang my ears. Eyes fluttered its eyelids. A white light engulfed my vision. I leaned against a chair, which was good, but I heard pops. My spine ached like hell! “Damn, what was I laying on!?”

“Oh, goodie, you’re awake.”

A maniac tone startled me. I saw who it was, a man with unkempt brown hair, shaggy brown and gray beard, and wearing a straightjacket. He rocked in the chair, eyes trembling and pupils diluting. He must have chugged too much Red Bull. Glad I drink whiskey.

“Excuse me, hobo. What the fuck are you talking about?”

My vision was blurry. I rubbed my eyes with my forearm, which felt off. I don’t remember my forearm feeling skinny. When my vision cleared, I saw why.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! WHAT THE F—”

“Hey, everyone.”

The door opened, and he showed himself. The alien who knocked me out cold. With ease, may I remind you!? I stood up, but my knees wobbled, and I collapsed into the chair. “Whoa, remain calm, Mr. Prince. A quick introduction, or re-introduction on our part, before I begin. I’m Albert, one of many members of the O’Brien Rehab Limited. Here, we reform clients with troublesome disorders or heal their physical injuries.”

“Who the HELL are you! What did you do to me!?”

I gripped Albert’s—or whatever the fuck his name was—shirt collar. He wasn’t wearing armor, but a casual white collar shirt with sleek black denim jeans. There was a name tag, showing his name and race. A tinzie? Who were they!? EASA never mentioned them to me! Either that or Philip sucked at organizing documents. Fuck him! When I get my fingers around his neck, I’ll—

“To answer your questions, I injected compression serum into your veins. It contained our DNA and ingredients Dr. O’Brien mixed. After injecting the serum, ninety minutes passed, and you shrunk to our size. That occurred once I landed the spacecraft near the center.”

“You drugged me!?” I tried lifting Albert, but these skinny ass arms were too weak!

“For the second question, I’m a tinzie, a miniature species. Half-ant, half-unknown humanoid species.”

That explained the antennas and awful skin tone. My arms grew tired, and I let go of Albert. My threat didn’t faze him. As I shook the pain off my arms and wrists, Albert explained why I was here. “An anonymous client called our service and recommended you to our program. For twelve weeks, you’ll perform recreational activities, go to morning discussions, and evaluate your development.”

“Who called your fucking service?”

Albert furrowed a thin eyebrow. I growled, eyes growing menacingly. “Was it Philip?!”

“I don’t know who Philip is. There are a million other Philips. Can you give a surname?”

I gripped Albert’s shirt collar again. “You know who I’m talking about, dammit! Philip Blanchard, my pathetic subordinate!”

“Blanchard? Hm, never had him in our program.”

“Stop lying! He got fed up with my demands and called your service. Get me away from EASA and my vice-president role. Why, that backstabbing bastard!”

The doors opened, but I wouldn’t care who entered. My fingers tightened under Albert’s shirt collar, a soft squeeze echoed across the room. A shadow coated us, its silhouette took the shape of a curvy woman. I looked right and dropped my jaw. My fingers lost grip, letting go of Albert’s collar again. The woman besides Albert had a slender figure with bright red skin, huge blue eyes, and thick pink hair. She was taller than Albert, around six-foot-nine. That was nine inches above my height.

Speaking of height, I realized I stood at Albert’s height. The realization shocked my core, my face went pale and sweat trickled down my forehead. “D-Did that serum shrunk me!?”

“Yes, Mr. Prince,” the woman said, her tone sounding deep but sexy.

My penis throbbed from her voice alone. I couldn’t care less about my erection.

“The compression not only shrunk you, but deflated your sculpted muscles. It’s probably for the best, Mr. Prince. Albert shared some interesting notes to me. You’re a self-centered man with vile language, rude personality, and judgmental mentality. Your coworkers, wife, and her parents disapprove your attitude. At the O’Brien Rehab Limited, it’s our job to reform people, have them live normal lives on Earth.”

“T-this can’t be happening.”

I fell on my knees. These tinzie motherfuckers stole my muscles and height. I became a weakling!

“Mr. Prince?”

I forced my eyes to stare at the woman. Her stature looked threatening. That should be me, staring down at my subordinates, filling their eyes with fear. Now, I was in their shoes, useless to fight back or speak up. “Our program is serious. We’ll use any method to get you reformed. If you refuse to partake in our program, we’ll pick between two punishments. The first punishment is extending your program until you’ve reformed. The second punishment is imprisonment, up to three years.”

“Three years!?”

The energy surged, and I stood from the woman’s threat.

“I’d looked into your records and they’re long. Employee abuse, racism towards aliens, emotional abuse, child neglect, child abuse, spousal abuse, coercion, and psychological abuse. Those add up to three years in prison. There’s also a fine of $20,000, for emotional damage.”

Have I been horrible this entire time? No one brought up my attitude, well except for Louise Stanton. She does, but my gorgeous looks made her erase criticism. “S-So…”

“Either imprisonment or extended program. What will it be? Once you’ve chosen your punishment, we’ll begin the program.”

Ugh, I don’t believe what they said was true. Three years in jail? After all the shit I’d done on Earth? They said those things to guilt-trip me. I crossed my arms and frowned at the woman and Albert. “What if I refuse to pick?”

The woman leaned forward, a smile meant for happiness felt cold. As if she craved punishment on the unfortunate. Or, in my case, the corrupted. “Then, I’ll pick a secret third option.”

“A-And what is the third option?”

My face got blue, more sweat drenched my forehead, raining over my eyes and dripping onto my cheeks. The woman’s smile stretched deep and teeth—the upper row—bared. “Death is the third option. Your crimes are enough for execution, if you refuse to listen. What will it be, Mr. Prince? Imprisonment?”

She extended her right hand. “Extended program?”

She extended the other hand. “Or death?”

Her voice deepened to a monstrous tone. Those eyes were cold, lifeless. Her teeth were white, but fangs glistened under dim lighting. “Choose quickly.”

“Oh…”

I’d felt like passing out, but I had no choice. “I’ll choose the extended program.”

“What’s the magic word?”

Now, she was treating me like a child. A fucking two-year-old! I grunted, but saw her fangs growing. What kind of race were they!? My heart raced, pounded against my chest, attempting to escape. My skin ran cold, below sub-zero degrees. Was this how Philip felt when I threatened him?

“I’ll pick the extended program, p-please.”

“Great! Albert? Begin Mr. Prince’s program, please?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

After picking my fate, I fainted and fell on my back.

To Be Continued…