Chapter 50: Consultation 50.

Consultation 50.

"God, how do I raid Area 51? I want to rescue my alien husband and clap some cheeks." My client chasing after her alien husband wasn’t a human like I was accustomed to dealing with, rather, this particular client by human standards was an alien species like her husband. Though be they alien or human, they were all the same in my eyes, mere mortals. 

Though she’d taken on an appearance that resembled humans, her eyes were a luminescent mix of blue and green. Her complexion was also rather peculiar, a diamond shape formed by white skin with darker splotches on the sides of her upper cheeks and forehead. Though the biggest giveaway was the solid green pointed extrusions from her head.

“You say you want to clap some cheeks? Is that some sort of alien lingo I’m not familiar with?”

“What? You’ve never heard the saying before?”

“No, I have, I’m just having a hard time understanding how rescuing your alien husband and clapping some cheeks are priorities in the same sentence. I thought maybe it was some sort of foreign alien cultural saying I wasn’t familiar with.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear about what I meant. What I meant was I want to break into Area 51 to rescue him. In the process of doing so I’ll get his hopes up only to NTR him with the humans who have held him captive for all this time. That will teach him for not returning my texts.”

“Uh… if he was captured, don’t you think it’s a bit unreasonable to expect him to return any texts you send him?”

“Are you kidding me? If I text him I expect his immediate attention even if he no longer has his communicator on him and it’s been surgically removed from his body.”

“If he no longer has his communicator on him how do you expect him to return your text?”

“I don’t care, that's his problem.”

“Have you considered a divorce before?”

“Divorce? No way. If I do that, I only get half of his stuff. I need him to die or commit suicide first so I can get all his stuff. If I NTR him, it might be enough to push him over the edge and finally get him to commit suicide.”

“Uh… if you don’t mind me asking, how exactly did your husband get caught by humans?”

“Well, we were on our honeymoon vacationing on an isolated backwater planet inhabited by humans who’d yet to have their first encounter with aliens and join the intergalactic federation. I worked pretty hard to convince him to violate intergalactic laws by going on our honeymoon to this third world planet out in the boonies. This was all so I could secretly sell him out and hopefully get him killed off by those humans so I could legally make everything he owned my own. While I was in the toilet on a date with him, I reported one of our alien vehicles and tipped off human authorities to his location. Caught off guard, he was captured, completely unaware he’d been duped and sold out by me.”

“I’ve texted him trying to find out his current state so I could determine whether he’s almost dead or not, but I never get a text back. Seriously, who does he think he is ignoring my texts? If he wasn’t filthy stinking rich, I’d have long ran off to the next sucker by now. I know this jackass has seen my texts as well. I can see the confirmation message that the text was read after all. I also know he’s still alive as his vital signal hasn’t been terminated yet.”

“Did you ever consider that he may have already caught onto the fact that you’re the one that betrayed him?”

“There’s no way that’s possible.”

“Why?”

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“Because he’s a dumbass blinded by his love for me. There’s not a single chance he’d ever be able to doubt me. I’m his sweet little angel. If anything, he probably thinks he’s protecting me by not returning my texts or something idiotic like that.”

“I see.”

“So, God, about my question. What do you suggest I do?”

“Well… you can turn raiding Area 51 into a big meme. Create some sort of stupid group event online where it will gather a bunch of idiots around Area 51 on a particular date. People are pretty dumb in general, when they see something interesting they’ll go along with it like headless chicken. As the event picks up momentum, there will be more and more people who’ll generate buzz over it and hype it up into a grand spectacle because they’re bored and have nothing better to do with their lives. Like this, you can draw the eyes of Area 51 personnel toward these large gatherings of people. Of course, that will simply be a distraction. Once they are on full alert, distracted by the idiots above ground, it will be the perfect opportunity to slip in unnoticed.”

“Using the alien tech at your disposal, while remaining undetected, you can burrow out a tunnel underground through an area with little to no one around. The ruckus brought on by the gathering will act as the perfect veil, everyone will be too distracted by what’s going on above ground level to pay attention to what’s directly below their feet.”

“Once you’re on the inside, you can brainwash and gain control over personnel with high enough clearance to lead you to your husband. From there, you can proceed to act out whatever degenerate acts you have in mind to force your husband into suicide. Once you’ve confirmed he’s committed suicide you can escape the same way you came in.”

“I see, I see, that should work. You’re not bad for a God. I guess the rumors I heard about you were true, you really can answer anything.”

“Honestly, I was having trouble because I didn’t have a plan to get in while maintaining my original form. Even if I brainwashed some grunts before entering, I wouldn’t be able to get in myself with the sort of security they have in place. Also, if I used our appearance altering machine, I wouldn’t be able to change my appearance back to my original form while inside the base. I would thus be unable to NTR my husband in my original form. Yes, this should work perfectly.” A sinister smile floated to her face as she mused over the plan I suggested.

As for her original appearance, I naturally knew her present one wasn’t her real one. In fact, with awareness on a higher dimensional level, I could see everything down to the finest detail. By human standards, it certainly wasn’t anything pretty. I felt a bit bad for the humans that would be forced into NTR play with her original form.

The simplest analogy I could make for her in human terms was, if her husband was the alien in Alien vs Predator, she was undoubtedly the predator. Only, it wasn’t only appearance-wise, she was also predatory in the fact she wanted him dead so she could legally obtain all of his accumulated wealth for herself. The only problem was that she couldn’t kill him herself, else she’d be charged under intergalactic marriage laws and not receive a single penny out of it.

“Hey, God, by any chance, are you rich?”

“If I was wealthy do you think I’d be doing life counselling?”

“Oh, good point. But it still costs quite a bit just to book a life counselling session with you. By god standards maybe you aren’t rich, but by mortal standards…”

“Shut up. I’m not rich. Please stop looking at me like I’m your next sucker and get the fuck out.”

“Hehehe.” She stood up while ominously chuckling to herself and took her leave.

“Then, until the next time we meet, God.”

Her head was faced away from me, but who was I? A higher dimensional being. I could naturally see every action she took regardless of the angle she faced me from if I wanted to, As such I naturally saw the excessively long tongue she licked her lips with while faced away from me.

She’s just a little mortal alien, does she think she can really sucker a god like me into marriage so she could divorce me? Hmmp! After all the crazy bitches I’ve provided counselling for, you really think I’m going to ever let my guard down and allow myself to fall into the trap known as a romantic relationship? Get real please, you’re clearly delusional.

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