The order came over Hyperspace Channel 1: destroy Earth.
"With pleasure," Commander Xlutu8 replied. As soon as the World Cup match ended, he’d press the button and obliterate the planet. He watched the monitor...just a few seconds now...almost...No! A fumble! Holy Zarquon!
Xlutu8 slammed his pseudopod against the control panel, unaware he had just jettisoned all his craft’s fuel. Still cursing the players, he slammed back into his chair, accidentally ejecting himself into space. He froze before he had time to asphyxiate.
Earth was safe.
The soccer team had lost the match, but saved the world.
The Americans, of course.
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