“Aww, fuck that guy,” Harley said. “Why’s he got to muscle in on the action?”

“It won’t be so bad,” Vell said. “Maybe now none of us will have to deal with the Karen Alien.”

Harley put down a wrench and stopped adjusting the hip of her robotic Utahraptor long enough to glare at Vell.

“Oh no, I’m handling it,” Harley said. “I don’t trust that guy as far as I can throw him.”

“Fair enough, but, you know, we’ve got to try and keep him happy, at least. Having a principal who actually knows about the loops and can help us is a big deal,” Vell said. “Not to mention he could expel us or something if we make him mad, I think.”

“Hah, as if!” Harley scoffed, though she did not elaborate on her reasons for thinking that. “We need to keep this guy at arm’s length. You were right when you said Goodwell’s skeevy, Vell. I’ve been googling.”

Harley dismounted a bench and pulled up a webpage on her phone before holding it out to Harley and Vell. It was dated six years ago, the headline being “College Dean ousted in the middle of messy divorce”. Beneath the headline was a picture of Principal Goodwell, though his hair and beard was deep black instead of gray. The past few years had not been kind to him, for obvious reasons.

“Dude slaps his wife in the middle of an argument, loses her, loses his job, loses his kids, even lost the house and the minivan,” Harley said. “And then immediately starts his bid to be the principal of the Einstein-Odinson college. Where he used to be caught in a time loop. What kind of lunatic would try to go back to the time he got killed on a daily basis?”

“Nostalgia can be a dangerous thing,” Lee said. “Rose-colored glasses make it difficult to see all the blood.”

“Damn that was deep,” Harley said. “Somebody write that down.”

“Oh don’t, somebody said it on TV the other day,” Lee said with a dismissive wave. “On a related note, I did end up tracking down that Lijia Mian figure Goodwell mentioned on our first meeting.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Not much,” Lee said. “Just a few old academic records, grades, that sort of thing. Curiously, no record of her graduating. Aside from that, nothing.”

“The plot thickens,” Harley said. “But not by much. We’ll probably find out more about that later.”

Harley got back to work on her Utahraptor, splitting her focus between the mechanisms and her conversation.

“Whatever’s going on with this dude, we can’t trust him,” Harley said. “Dude hitting his wife is more than enough to make me never want to talk to him again, much less whatever he’s up to here. And he is definitely up to something.”

“I concur. But, as the saying goes, keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Lee said. “There may be some merit in maintaining a close relationship with our principal, if only to keep an eye on him.”

“And exploit him to make our job easier!”

“Yes, that too,” Lee said. “Speaking of our job, dear, how is your dinosaur coming along?”

“Oh I’ve been done for a while now, I’ve just been fucking around to make Himiko think she has a chance of beating me,” Harley said. She stood, grabbed a remote off of her workbench, and activated the mechanical Utahraptor. It stood up immediately and took a few stiff steps forward. Across the workshop, Himiko let out a groan of frustration and used her mechanical arm to throw a wrench across the room so hard it embedded itself in the wall.

“Better luck next time, Himiko,” Harley said. “I’ll help the rest of the bitches get their dino’s done. Vell, you get this guy dressed up.”

Vell nodded, glanced at the wrench embedded in the wall, and then shook his head clear. He needed to focus on the matter at hand.

----------------------------------------

At three-twenty in the afternoon, with a just a few minutes to spare, the dinosaurs made their way into the Quad. While this garnered some initial concern from those who were out of the loop, Principal Goodwell had spread the word well enough that all concerned parties were quickly corrected. While a few curious onlookers gathered to gawk at the dinosaurs, for most students of the Einstein-Odinson college, animatronic dinosaurs weren’t all that special. Lee watched students come and go while Harley discussed the plan with the bitches.

“Alright, so you just need to make the dinosaurs mill about a bit, act natural, try to stay away from our little alien friend so they don’t accidentally touch,” Harley said. Harley’s friends, as well as the general public, were under the impression that the alien would also be a hologram. “Other than that, just act dinosaurish.”

The bitches declared their understanding of the plan, and Harley left them to their own devices, both literally and figuratively. Himiko, Kanya, and Sarah picked up remotes and practiced making the animatronics move realistically while Harley conferred with the other loopers -both past and present. Isaac Goodwell stood awkwardly outside the circle while Lee explained the plan to Vell, Leanne, and Harley.

“Alright, to make sure this goes according to plan, we need to curate the experience for the alien. Get her under control, keep her along a predictable path, just make sure she takes a look at the dinosaur and then leaves.”

“Without activating the foldspace engine in the atmosphere again,” Vell said. Everyone nodded.

“To this point, Harley has decided on a way to manage the alien’s behavior.”

Lee gestured to Harley, who proudly displayed a tacky t-shirt with a picture of a dinosaur on it. There was also a matching hat.

“Retail! We’re going to make the alien think she’s at a dinosaur-themed tourist trap!”

Vell examined the tacky uniform with a skeptical glare. Harley noticed his expression and expounded on her reasoning.

“Listen, entitled parents feel most comfortable when they think other people are contractually obligated to act inferior to them,” Harley explained. “As long as she thinks she’s actually bossing us around, our point man can get them to do whatever we want.”

At this point, Goodwell elbowed his way into the conversation. He grabbed the hat out of Harley’s hand and took a close look at it.

“I think I can handle corralling one alien,” he boasted. “Had quite a few of them back in the day, I was a fair hand at negotiating with extraterrestrials.”

“Sorry sir, but I think I should handle this one,” Harley said, feigning respect. “This alien’s one of those bitchy mom types, and I’m an expert at handling them.”

“Hah, please,” Goodwell scoffed. “I work in education. I’ve handled it all, helicopter moms, tiger moms, stage moms, you name it. What makes you think you’re better equipped to handle a bitching parent?”

“I was a waitress.”

Goodwell gave the hat back.

“Right then, do your best,” Goodwell said. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”

“Okay cool, because I also didn’t make a t-shirt in your size,” Harley said. She reached into her bag and pulled out two more t-shirt and hat combos. “Lee, Vell, I want you on backup. Just grab a broom or a bucket and act like you’re doing something.”

With only a few minutes to spare, Vell and Lee ran off to get changed. By the time they’d returned, they could already see the alien ship descending. Vell grabbed a broom and arbitrarily swept a patch of ground while Lee grabbed the nearest container she could find, a bag full of what looked like fertilizer for grass, and started spreading it on the ground in front of the animatronic pteranodons.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I don’t feel like this is very convincing,” Lee said under her breath.

“It’s fine, you’re doing great. Karen’s don’t see you as living things, just mindless automatons that only exist to ensure the retail machine operates smoothly enough to serve their every petulant whim,” Harley said. “Just keep your head down, act natural. and don’t make eye contact. Like that time we had to get past that gorilla.”

“A gorilla? What kind of doomsday was that?” Vell asked.

“Oh that wasn’t actually the apocalypse that day, there was just an unrelated gorilla loose on campus,” Harley said. “I’ll explain some other time, the Karen Alien’s landing.”

The disc-shaped vessel descended as Vell went back to idly sweeping a patch of grass. He moved closer to the nearby Apatosaurus to hopefully stay out of sight. The alien landed on the quad and descended to the surface of the grass, beckoning the smaller aliens to follow her as she descended.

“Oh see there they are, just like I told you kids,” the alien said. The egg-shaped alien coiled its tentacles together as it appraised the collection of dinosaurs. “Though they were different last time I was here.”

Harley stepped up, took a deep breath, and all but instantly became a different person.

“Sorry, but we like to cycle our exhibits every forty million years or so, keeps things fresh,” Harley said, in a voice as synthetic and sterile as a styrofoam cup. “If there’s any specific dinosaurs you’d like to see, I can call up my manager and he can get here in ten million years, give or take a few millenia.”

Vell tried his best to continue sweeping. The new persona Harley had adapted unsettled him, to say the least. Harley’s usual infectious energy and happiness had been usurped by the most lifeless and hollow faux-enthusiasm he’d ever heard.

“Oh that’s alright, these are fine,” the alien said. “Y’all little monkey looking folks weren’t around last time I was here, though. What’re you supposed to be?”

“We’re the new staff, we just got hired on the last time the dinosaurs cycled through,” Harley explained. “I’m guessing your last visit was before that, I’d be happy to explain all the new changes to you.”

Harley delivered a long, entirely off-the-cuff monologue about the entirely made up rules of her entirely made up dinosaur display. The alien raised some protest when told about the new admission price, but Harley quickly appeased her by acquiescing to her demands and offering the alien and her children free admission “just this once”. Placated by Harley’s charade, the alien raised very few protests during the rest of the “tour”. Harley stayed by the aliens side most of them, only briefly diverting to Vell, who was still sweeping the same patch of grass.

“Hey Vell, run to my workshop and grab one of those blocks of gray rubbery stuff off the middle shelf,” Harley said, returning her voice to its normal pitch and tone briefly. “These aliens apparently eat silicone and I’m about to overcharge the hell out of some concessions.”

“Okay, uh, yeah, sure,” Vell said, dropping his broom where he stood. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, your voice is, uh…”

Harley barely restrained a snort of laughter.

“You’ve never worked in retail, have you?” Vell shook his head. “Right, well, this is Customer Service Harley, she’s a facade designed to appease the soulless consumerist class. Now go get the silicone, I want to make some alien money.”

----------------------------------------

“Thank you for joining us today, please feel free to come again any time,” said Customer Service Harley. “It’s been a pleasure having you.”

“Oh the pleasure’s all mine, thank you so much for everything,” the alien said.

Customer Service Harley carried on a few more fond farewells with their alien guest before asking her to refrain from using any form of faster-than-light travel within the atmosphere, to avoid upsetting the dinosaurs. Having been appeased by Customer Service Harley for the past hour, the alien complied with that one request and took off, her ship vanishing from view shortly after exiting the atmosphere. With a deep sigh, the true Harley reasserted herself, and her posture slouched. After a brief moment of exhaustion, Harley reached into her pocket and began counting out alien money, which took the form of semi-translucent cubes about the size of a grape.

“I hope this is a lot,” Harley said.

“What are you even going to do with it?” Vell asked.

“Buy some alien weed,” Harley said.

“You know where to get alien weed?”

“No, but considering what our lives are like, it has a pretty good chance of coming up,” Harley said. She tucked the alien money back into her pocket and shot a thumbs up in the direction of Lee and the bitches.

“Good work, everyone,” she said.

“Yes, really well done everyone, truly,” Goodwell said. He stepped off the sidelines, applauding slowly all the while. “What a wonderful performance, glad I could be a part of it.”

“You were not a part of it,” Sarah noted.

“Who asked you?”

Sarah said nothing. Goodwell stared at her for a while, expecting an answer.

“Did you hear me, young lady?”

Sarah continued to say nothing. The principal finally got the picture and turned to Harley instead.

“Is she alright?”

“I have no way of knowing,” Harley admitted. Goodwell gave a single firm nod and turned fully away from Sarah.

“Right. Well. Call me any time, I suppose. It was good to be back in the action, if only for a while.”

“We’ll call you when we need you, sir,” Lee assured him. Goodwell gave a sharp salute and trotted back to his office to take care of the paperwork he’d been neglecting. As he dashed off, Sarah slid in between Harley and Vell.

“This man has many qualities of suspicion,” Sarah noted.

“Yep,” Harley said. “We’re aware.”

“He’s odd, yes, but he did stay out of our way,” Lee said. “Maybe he’s not all bad.”

----------------------------------------

“Nope, he’s all bad,” Harley said.

“Because he made us do the paperwork?”

Principal Goodwell had continued his “partnership” with the loopers by foisting all of the paperwork related to approving their dinosaur display off onto the loopers. They had spent most of the evening and on into the next day working on filing all the forms and approval requests Goodwell had forced upon them.

“Well, more so that he made us do the paperwork specifically so he could lurk around campus doing random weird things,” Harley said. Since passing off the paperwork to the loopers, Goodwell had been spotted lurking around the neurology department by Cane, the rune tech lab by Joan, and the biology labs, by some of Harley’s friends. Apparently he believed he was distracting the loopers, but failing to consider that they had friends.

“It is suspicious. I’d be worried if he weren’t conducting himself so incompetently.”

“Never underestimate what incompetent people can do with enough determination,” Harley said. “If idiots were doomed to fail, we’d all be dead.”

“Hey.”

“What? I included myself in that. We’re all dumb sometimes.”

Vell sighed and returned his focus to the paperwork. The trio had agreed to split it up in shifts, and Vell took his turn while Harley focused on a robotics project.

“What’s your full name, Lee?”

“I’ll fill out those parts myself, if you don’t mind,” Lee said stiffly. Vell nodded and moved on.

“What about you, Harley?”

“I’m going to save us a whole Abbot and Costello routine and tell you that my full, legal name, as it appears on my birth certificate, is Harley B Harley.”

Vell put his pen down for a second to stare at Harley. She looked away from her robotics project long enough to stare right back.

“What?” Vell asked.

“My first name is Harley, and my last name is also Harley,” she said. “Yes, I know it’s odd, yes, my parents had strange taste in names.”

“Okay, I guess,” Vell said. He’d seen more questionable things in the past few months. “What’s the ‘B’ stand for?”

“Nothing, it’s just the letter ‘B’,” Harley said.

Vell didn’t know why he’d even bothered asking. He rounded out his share of the paper work and handed the paperwork over to Lee, who got started filling out her own name. While she scrawled away at her apparently-secret name (another thing Vell didn’t bother to question), Vell decided to satiate a lingering curiosity.

“So, I actually had a question, uh, about some stuff that happened yesterday,” Vell said.

“I still don’t know where to find alien weed, no,” Harley said.

“Not what I had in mind, but good to know,” Vell said. He’d rather not hurt anyone’s feelings if he could avoid it. “I was actually kind of curious about why we had to keep the alien hidden from everybody. I mean, they apparently come here all the time. Why do we have to keep it secret?”

“Very good question,” Lee said. She took the excuse to set the paperwork aside for a moment and reached into her purse to pull out a very large binder. She tried to open the massive sheaf of documents and ended up dropping it on her foot. She cringed with pain for a moment and then picked up the binder, biting her lip as she scanned it.

“Yes, I saw something about that here earlier,” she said. “Something about an incident back in the sixties…”

Lee’s sizable binder created a catalog of notable apocalypses of the past, passed down between generations of Loopers since the school’s founding in the mid-forties. Vell considered asking to look at it later. Harley, who was entirely uninterested in a bunch of super old stories about random deadly bullshit, occupied herself with snacking.

“Ah yes, here we are,” Lee said. “While aliens can visit Earth freely, the citizens of Earth are expressly prohibited from contacting other civilizations due to…”

Lee paused in her narration and ran a finger along the page for a moment, absorbing the contents.

“An incident in which visitors from the galactic council visited Earth and were bitten by a particularly ornery stag beetle,” Lee said. “Hmm.”

“We got banned from galactic society because of a beetle?”

“Yes, well, apparently the galactic council was under the impression that beetles were the dominant species on planet earth,” Lee elaborated.

“How?”

“Just by sheer numbers, I’d say,” Harley said. “Ain’t most things on the planet beetles?”

“Yes, actually. Accounting for sheer numbers, one in every four living things is a beetle.”

“Huh. Well, I’m not a beetle,” Harley joked.

“Nor am I,” Lee said.

“Me neither,” Vell said.

After their trinity of denials, the room fell silent. The moment passed, and in unison. all three turned their heads to look across the workshop, towards Sarah. She looked up from her work and stared right back at them.

“Why am I being looked at it in funny manner?”

“No reason,” Harley said, as her eyes narrowed.