Mo-Mah's Terror

The sun scurried behind the shadow of Suburbia’s moon. After an arduous journey, the Aerostar transport vehicle stopped upon the planet’s picturesque landing pad. At long last, the cry of the executioner – the maddening, “are we there yet?” – was answered.

Pushing past his siblings, the tiny assassin avoided the outstretched arms of the large grey-haired aliens. Much to his surprise though, he was cornered in the picture laden corridor and succumbed to their clutches. Pleading for air, he wriggled his way free from their grasp and hurried toward those he had come to kill. “This world shall know my wrath!” he decreed to himself.

The pallid people stood motionless watching the costly artifacts, so neatly arranged throughout the land, become absorbed by the monster. Ghostly white were their faces as the slayer snatched them from their homes. The porcelain statuettes were slaughtered one by one, crumbling to pieces as they fell on the floor until… there were no more.

Mo-Mah’s Little Terror had arrived.

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