With fog surrounding the farmland, Michael, a young alien, swaggered out of his dented space ship following a successful landing. The grating, shrill gears within his vehicle didn't worry the seven eyed boy as he took in his new, green planet under a bright crimson sky. The plucky alien picked up his most powerful lazer but before he could blast just one human, a local farmer had him tongue-tied. The farmer had plucked it out of Michael's hands and was now waving it far above the green boy's head, "That's my gun!"
"You could hurt someone with this!" replied the tired, grey-haired farmer. Michael looked back vacantly. "I'm here to demolish your pathetic planet," screeched the short, furious creature.
"How will you do that on an empty stomach? It's well past dinner time." Michael's lower gut grumbled, revealing his incredible appetite. The meal that the farmer and his wife served was flawless, pigs in blankets, eggs benedict, stuffing, Michael couldn't stop himself.

"I still want to destroy you," munched the Xakitronion,
"Yes dear, do you have room for desert, oh and we've put your gun thingy in the living room?" Humiliation aside, Michael definitely had a spare stomach for desert and began devouring a chocolate cake whole. "Who's a hungry boy then?"
"I am," whispered the jolly alien with a secret smile. The tempestuous, rowdy alien from a far flung world lay in their spare bed underneath two layers of nice warm blankets. He felt warmer than he's ever felt, inside and out. His incessant pleads for destruction became quiet whimpers for desolation until only snores for global conquest remained. The lad's tuckered himself out, whispered Mr Farmer.

The following morning, the alien explained, "life is sparse in the universe, I've always wanted a planet of my own, but maybe this house is enough?"
"Yes dear," replied Mrs Farmer, helping Michael into his school uniform and sending him on his way to school.