“No. Absolutely not,” said Green_Turtle_Boy_369. “You can take Melissa but Rosemary and the dog boy stay here.”

“But she says it will only be a proper date if all three come…” replied Eric.

“Rosemary stays.” Green_Turtle_Boy_369 spoke with an authority which could not be argued with. “And do you not remember that phrase you taught me when I walked in on you and Leina?”

“Yeah… Three’s a crowd.” He had used that repeatedly, mainly to combat Leina’s vigorous arguments that three was more fun. She was always inviting unaware people into their “catch-up meetings” in his office.

“So she’s pulling the wool over your eyes. If you want to take Melissa out, I don’t care, but Rosemary is not leaving. We want our Crawk-King Jake45 back.”

“He is not your King,” interjected Rosemary.

“He is. King and Leader of War. FACT.”

He smothered Rosemary’s continued argument with an unintentional splatter of saliva. “I’ll show the contract he signed later.”

“Sorry, Melissa,” Eric drooled. “I tried, but it seems it’s just me and you. It’s probably for the best anyway,” he added, as he grabbed her reluctant hand and dragged her to her feet.

Melissa didn’t bother to struggle. She shook his hand off, and walked, slowly, in front of him out of the cell. If she could control the pace, she could buy herself time to think. The answer was obvious though, really.

“Eric…” she said hopefully. “I really want to go to the pub.”

“The pub? But you always told me you didn’t drink?”

“I do…” she said, “but only on special occasions.”

* * *

Melissa’s plan had gone perfectly. Taking advantage of Eric’s already substantially drunken state, she’d spent the first three pints of conversation dragging as much useful information about the Crawk army and their battle plans as she possibly could. It didn’t take much more than a few flutters of the eyelashes to get him to talk, and Eric had no concept of what things he should say to people, and what he really shouldn’t. When Melissa was finally satisfied, she had to endure just three shots worth of slurred drivel before he’d fallen fast asleep on his chair. Checking he was out for the count, she bolted as quickly as she could and left. Now was really a time when she had to make some decisions, and quickly. As you can imagine, there weren’t many non-Crawklings around. A planet which was famous for its’ history of trying to take over the universe and the evil and volatile nature of its inhabitants wasn’t likely to be popular with tourists. Especially when it had been separated from the civilised universe by a huge defensive shield for as long as anyone could remember.

Needless to say, Melissa didn’t blend in with the greasy, unkempt, bright green aliens that were strolling around town. She would be pretty easy to spot when Eric awoke from his slumber and realised his prisoner / date had ditched him. He’d also be pretty desperate to find her when he realised that his pockets were empty. Melissa had already spotted Eric’s ID card in the battered wallet she had pilfered, which would open all the doors back into the prison automatically. This was her chance.

The only problem was that Melissa had not had a drink for quite a few weeks, and was quickly feeling the effects. She grasped onto a lamp post to keep her balance, but it was just a temporary aide. She toppled over, and despite her best attempts, couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She quickly succumbed to the temptation and passed out on the pavement.