This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Baci821 on 2024-10-17 00:35:42+00:00.

The basement of the Galactic Rehab Center had seen a lot of weird groups, but none as bizarre as this one. A dim, flickering light buzzed overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow over the circle of mismatched aliens. They sat, slouched or hunched, on metal chairs too small for some of their bulbous frames or too large for their wiry limbs. A sign in the corner read: “Alien Anonymous: We Heal Together” in several languages, but no one was really feeling that tonight.

A green, tentacled creature with multiple eyes and a nametag that read “Grulth” oozed into the center, its voice a wet gargle that somehow filled the room.

“Alright, everyone, welcome back to Alien Anonymous. I know these meetings aren’t easy. It’s tough, talking about our… encounters with humans. But it’s important. We need to share.”

There were a few awkward shuffles, tentacles shifting, claws scraping the floor. One alien, a particularly jittery insectoid with four arms and a chitinous shell, clicked nervously.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go first,” said a lanky, blue-skinned alien with gills on its neck, leaning forward. His nametag said “Zor’Nek.” “I was assigned to Earth for a routine study, you know, the usual—observe and report. But humans… they’re just… so dumb.”

A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the group.

“Like, okay,” Zor’Nek continued, clearly building up steam. “One day, I was just hovering above this human city—completely cloaked, mind you—and I get hit. By a drone.” He slapped his webbed hand against his forehead. “A civilian drone. And the guy flying it was filming for some vlog. Of course, I had to crash land in some godforsaken forest and what do they do? They think I’m a goddamn Bigfoot sighting.”

A small, pudgy alien with twelve blinking eyes chuckled from across the circle. “What’s a Bigfoot?”

“Some stupid human legend about a hairy ape-man thing. They can’t even figure out their own species half the time, let alone the rest of us.”

Grulth nodded sympathetically. “Humans are… well, human. Who else would like to share?”

A hulking, horned creature with three heads raised its center head, the other two grumbling incoherently. “I am Thraxor, from the Zolthrian Conquerors,” it said in a deep, rumbling voice. “We invaded Earth once. I thought, easy pickings, right? Small, squishy, technologically behind. But… no. These humans—they refused to play by the rules of galactic warfare. We sent in an elite task force, and you know what they did?”

The room leaned in, eager for the tale of human scumminess.

“They threw… molotov cocktails.” Thraxor’s voice dripped with disbelief. “Flaming bottles of alcohol. I had warriors covered in Kevlar-bone plating and energy shields, and these humans are out here throwing booze at us like it’s a frat party gone wrong.”

One of the aliens hissed in disbelief.

“That’s nothing,” piped up a furry, hamster-like alien called Kloo from the far end of the room. “I got stuck on Earth’s internet. Pure hell. I went there to collect some data, right? I made the mistake of commenting on a human sports forum.”

A collective shudder ran through the group.

“Oh no,” whispered Zor’Nek.

“Yeah,” Kloo continued, his fur quivering. “I mentioned something about how their ‘football’ wasn’t even played with their feet. Harmless observation, right? Suddenly, I’ve got death threats from thousands of humans telling me to go ‘play soccer with my own balls.’ And don’t even get me started on Reddit. I still wake up in a cold sweat.”

A reptilian creature hissed and waved its tail, waiting to speak. “I am Kroxx of the Torvian Swarm, and I—" it paused, seething with barely-contained rage, "—I got scammed by a human.” Its slitted eyes narrowed, forked tongue flicking out in disgust. “I bought one of their ‘NFTs.’”

A low, collective groan echoed through the room.

“I didn’t know it was just a… a picture! I thought it was some kind of rare Terran relic. Turns out, it’s just a poorly drawn monkey. Worthless.”

Grulth made a squelching noise, which, in this context, was probably sympathy. “Humans do have a talent for… creative exploitation.”

An alien with antennae resembling dandelion fluff sniffled from the back. “I just wanted a selfie with one. It seemed harmless at the time. But then they made me pay for it, and before I knew it, my face was plastered across every social media site as ‘proof of alien life,’ and they started selling t-shirts. I’ve been branded as the ‘E.T. Karen.’”

Everyone in the room collectively winced. Even Grulth.

At this point, the insectoid creature that had been fidgeting all evening finally snapped. “Humans! Everywhere they go, they ruin things!” It threw its multiple arms in the air. “You try to abduct one—one human—for research, and suddenly, you’re ‘probing people.’ And now my species is a meme.”

The room was silent, filled only with the heavy breathing—or bubbling, or chirping—of various alien life forms processing their mutual suffering.

Grulth nodded solemnly. “Yes. Humans… are a problem. But we’re here to support each other. Together, we can recover from their nonsense. We can rise above it.”

A tentacle raised in the back. “I mean, they’re not all bad. Some of their food is okay.”

Another alien hissed. “Yeah, if you don’t mind it being fried, salty, or absolutely covered in sugar.”

“Don’t even get me started on their music. It’s like they decided to take sounds and make them worse on purpose.”

“I thought ‘smooth jazz’ was a form of torture.”

Grulth held up a tentacle, urging calm. “I know it’s hard. Humans… they’re relentless. But we have to remember why we’re here. To heal. To share our grievances and… not plot intergalactic revenge.”

Thraxor grumbled, but Grulth’s eyes—well, whatever passed for them—narrowed.

“We are better than that. Mostly.”

The lights flickered as the meeting drew to a close. Grulth waved his slimy appendage in a ceremonial fashion.

“Repeat after me: I will not be consumed by human foolishness.”

The aliens mumbled it back half-heartedly.

“And I will not invade Earth again. They’re not worth it.”

A few more groans. One alien muttered something about “a last time for everything.”

“Okay. That’s it for today. Next week, we’ll have a guest speaker from the Greys. He has some interesting things to say about human cattle mutilation rumors.” Grulth gave an encouraging, if slurping, smile. “Stay strong, everyone. The humans can’t ruin everything.”

As the aliens filed out, one of them muttered under their breath, “I don’t know, man. Have you seen their reality TV?”

Grulth sighed. “Okay, maybe they can.”