Meanwhile

“What the hell was that?” asked Wayne as Marilyn shut down the conversation between the President in Berlin and Ronaldo at the center of the room of the San Francisco Alien Center.

Ronaldo grabbed the phone, “Could have been worse. At least he believed us.”

“The game will start soon, should we watch it?” said a member in the back.

“I am not going to Berlin,” offered a second.

“Neither am I.”

Outside sirens began to fill the air.

“Not sure anyone here will get to decide,” smiled Ronaldo to his group of misfits. “What is going on right now is no joking matter.”

In a matter of minutes, about a hundred police cars had made their way into the parking lot. Cops were coming out guns in hand.

“I gave a chance to everyone to avoid this.”

“I am personally looking forward to German sausages. I hear they are great,” joked Wayne opening the door hands in the air. “Don’t shoot, this is not a cop show.”

The little group went to the airport in a series of limousines.

“Can someone tell my mom where we are going?”

“The planet knows where we are going, haven’t been watching?”

“Can we watch the game? I hear it’s on mercury, how exciting.”

Ronaldo was sitting, holding the snow globe, phone in pockets.

The group was given Orbison glasses to watch as the cars zoomed down the highway.