What started out as an entry for a local FanFiction contest became an idea pecking at my mind for months. Normally, I wouldn't write a Fanfic on Steven Universe, but my inner fanboy for Tremors is "defending this story's case. Just a little something to get my mind busy for any other story out of nowhere.

I own nothing, and if you think I do, then go to Hell.


"Delmarva, 2400 Hours. One Graboid down, five C4s, two hunters, and enough weaponry to make Hitler piss his pants." An old man reported to himself, sporting long, sand-colored pants below the waist and a green bulletproof vest over a camouflage shirt.

"How many did you say we're out here, pops?" A man wearing all black and a frazzled, spiky hair do asked.

"I told you not to call me that, Travis."

"Whatever, Burt," replied Travis, "just how many Graboids are out here?"

"At the moment," said Burt, "unknown."

Nearly a year after returning from South Africa, Burt Gummer and his long lost son, Travis Welker, have been hunting down beasts all across America. Now, here they are; laying in sniper position on a large rock in a remote Delmarva plain just 5 feet away from their truck.

Their main target, the Graboid, is a ruthless, subterranean monster worm beneath the Earth's surface living for two things and two things only: eat and multiply. The creature's length can reach up to 30 feet (35 in Africa), 6 feet in width, lined with dark spines allowing it to "glide" through the ground, a large, wide upper beak, a thinner lower beak with 2 three foot mandibles, and it lacks eyes.

Burt and Travis really had their work cut out for them. It was the Graboids' time for asexual reproduction, making them more vulnerable and effortless to track. The Graboid on their truck was just laying right in front of them, wailing in pain from the Shriekers about to emerge.

"So," said Travis, relaxing on his back, "this is how the younger generation will remember the legendary Burt Gummer and his son. Laying down on a rock hours on end until we see moving soil."

"A good soldier gathers all the patience he has and endures anything that comes at him," replied Burt, "in order to see the blood of his enemy splattered over his feet."

"You see, Burt, that's why you can't get any friends below the age of 50!" Travis complained, "You're so obsessed with your army days that you can't relate to anyone who uses Instagram!"

"Insta-what?" Burt asked, looking at Travis bewilderingly.

After the ordeals in Africa, Travis became Burt's link to social media. Although he was in his forties, Travis claims that he knows everything about trends and what is on the rise in pop culture. Travis saw Burt's specialty of killing giant monsters would spike interests in all audiences. So far, they went from a rough start, to sufficient.

"We're out here killing Graboids, Shriekers, Ass Blasters, you name it!" Travis stated, "And yet no matter how many pics of our kills go online, we're still stuck with just a couple hundred followers."

Travis took two gulps of water and took out his phone to check their progress.

"This is hunting at its finest, and our followers number is a speck compared to Justin Bieber, Burt," said Travis, "Do you really want to be less popular than Justin Bieber? Or Will Ferrell? Or Michael Bay? And that's pretty low by the way."

"Okay, listen here, Zhuckerberg!" Burt got to his feet and looked Travis in the eyes with irritation staining his, "I've been killing Graboids long before you went to college! I killed my first Graboid with a shot gun so powerful, there was a hole out of its tail big enough to fit George Lopez's head! My great grandfather killed Graboids with nothing but a punt gun, a saw, a train, and assistance from friends he could actually see!"

At that moment, a series of monstrous, wailing cries filled the area. Burt recognized those cries as the sound of a Graboid close to bursting with Shriekers. Travis tossed him his night vision binoculars, getting in position as well. Burt scoped the area for a suffering Graboid and spotted it 50 feet away, partially behind a large rock.

"Tango spotted." Burt said with a grin.

"Ready, old man?" Travis asked, holding a Ruger Mini-14 out towards Burt.

"Not with that." Burt said, disregarding the rifle.

From the small pile of guns behind them, Burt reached for a large, long-barreled rifle.

"A Grizzly One-shot .50 cal BMG!" Travis exclaimed astonishingly.

Locking the gun together, Burt got down to his stomach and aimed at the the middle of the rock to take out both the Graboid and the three Shriekers inside of it.

"It's been a long time, and I don't wanna break my back," said Burt, "So I want you to count to 5, then close your ears. Got that?"

Travis nodded in assurance and began to count slowly to 5. Burt took a deep breath. He has only used this BMG once on a Shrieker, but never sure if he could successfully kill a fully-grown Graboid. However, he was sure of something: if it can't handle a head-on collision with concrete, then it can't survive the force of a shot equivalent to a tank.

"Go back to Hell, you dirt-covered son of a-"

"FIRE!" Travis yelled with his ears covered.

Burt pulled the trigger, and in the blink of an eye, not only the Graboid's head, but the whole rock was blown away! Guts flew everywhere, each belonging to more than just the Graboid. Burt laughed to his heart's content and jumped around in delight! As for Travis, the sound of the blast was more than enough to be heard through his hands covering his ears.

"Jesus Christ!" He exclaimed, still recovering from the sound of the blast.

"That's the sound of a dead Graboid, my boy." Burt gladly described, taking apart the BMG.

"Sweet mother of God, that hurt!"

"Not as much as the Graboid!" Burt cackled.

"Yeah, nice job, Burt." Travis sarcastically told him, "You just blew up what could be the last Graboid out here! Now we have nothing else to get a pic of!"

He jumped off the rock and picked up a piece of the Graboid's beak, "Two dead bodies could've sky rocketed your popularity. One and one hundredth of the hunt equals a minimum amount."

"Hey," said Burt with a careless expression, "At least we solved Delmarva's pest dilemma."

Travis threw the beak in frustration, but heard it bounce off a metal surface. He turned around to find nothing but more guts on the ground. He turned back to Burt whom had the same confused expression.

"Did you hear that?" Travis asked him.

"Affirmative," said Burt as he grabbed a Winchester 1200 shot gun from the pile, "and I don't like the sound of it."

As Burt jumped off the rock, Travis threw another organ; no contact there. Burt followed along and threw two spikes in the same direction, but with no metallic response. They continued to throw organs and any rocks around them until it came to the conclusion that Travis may have mistaken the metal bang for something else.

"Never mind," said Travis, "let's get back to the truck."

Burt gave up as well and turned around to get the guns. He threw an organ back over his head, but this time hearing the metal sound again! He and Travis jerked around to find nothing yet again.

"All right," Burt glocked his Winchester, " now I'm pissed."

He aimed at a completely random direction and took the shot. As expected, the shot was successful; sparks flew off as the bullet made contact. As the sparks flew, the air around it distorted to form a large, invisible sphere. Travis' jaw dropped as Burt's eyes widened. In just minutes, the sphere revealed its color and features. As expected from the distorted air, the object was a large, green sphere with a wide triangular wind shield.

"What, in the name of all that is holy, is that?" Burt asked with an expression and voice being dumbfounded with a mix of fear.

The sphere rotated until the wind shield faced the two of them. Burt and Travis took small steps back so as to not set it off. Glocking his shot gun, Burt was ready to go from Graboid hunter to sharp shooter real quick.

"When that thing gets hostile," Burt whispered, "I want you to run straight to the truck and kick it into high gear."

"Why?" Travis asked.

"Because we'll need more than just guns to take this thing out."

Travis set his sights on the truck; only 13 feet away.

"What are you gonna do?" He asked.

"I'm gonna buy ya some time." Burt revealed two other guns in his pockets and a dagger in his back pocket.

As the sphere's wind shield radiated a neon green light, two panels diagonal from it slid open. Burt held his shot gun close and motioned Travis toward the truck. A pipe-like cannon came from each opening of the sphere, giving Travis a good reason to bolt for the truck!

"Come on, you oversized tennis ball! Come and get me!" Burt yelled, running around the sphere, "170 pounds of pure psychosis!"

Ignoring the fleeing Travis, the sphere turned toward Burt. Each cannon glowed and, with no regards for Burt, blasted whitish green lasers! The old man jumped to the side, allowing the beams to strike the remains of the rock Burt blew up earlier.

"That's more like it."

Burt aimed for the wind shield and continuously fired in the same spot. However, with each shot the sphere remained undamaged. Burt was relentless, though. He didn't stop pulling that trigger until either he or sphere was down on the ground.

Despite Burt's determination, the sphere wasn't about to give up either. The beams kept coming, and it never showed any signs of dropping.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Travis fussed as he struggled with the car keys; Travis was in too much of a hurry to get his hands steady for the key to get in.

Burt's shot gun was finally out of ammo. Seeing the pile of guns back at the rock they left, he bolted towards it! The sphere was hot on his tail and gaining speed; Burt was three steps away from becoming road kill rather than barbecue!

Eventually, the time came where Burt was simply not fast enough. Just as he reached the tip of the rock, the sphere circled around him and pushed him back down to the grass.

Burt panted and panicked as he pulled out his two pistols, "EAT LEAD, YOU COMMIE!"

The gunshots, however, were useless. No matter how many bullets made contact, the sphere slowly made its way forward to Burt. He gritted his teeth and pulled out his combat knife.

"I will break through that wind shield," said Burt, "and pull you straight out to see your murderer! Today, one of us dies!"

The cannons of the sphere emerged and began charging their beams; a finishing blow was eminent. Burt tossed his knife back and forth with eyes intensified. Everything at that moment paused for Burt. He saw himself as a child, listening to his father's stories of the World War. He saw himself turning a BB gun to an automatic in middle school. He witnessed his first Graboid kill, his encounter with a hoard of Shriekers, losing his closest friends, meeting his son; all leading up to this moment. One of them was going to die, but it wasn't going to be the sphere.

"Miguel, old friend," said Burt, in the name of his deceased friend, "see you soon. I'll bring the whiskey."

The sphere advanced with beams ready; Burt stood his ground and raised his knife.

With the sound of a Mexican horn, Burt's truck drove into the scene and slammed into the sphere hard enough to send it tumbling away! Burt looked at the sphere, then back at his truck. After that impact, you could compare the front of the truck to a junkyard vehicle.

"What in God's name was that thing made of?" Burt asked as he got into the passenger seat.

"I don't wanna know," said Travis, "but Burt, we got ourselves a prime time discovery here!"

Travis looked Burt in the eyes, clearly serious about the outcome of this event, "We're talking National Geographic, History Channel, CNN, Facebook, Twitter, the whole web! This'll be bigger than Graboids, Burt!"

"I don't care about the fame, all I care about is getting out of here before that thing gets back in the air!"

"I hit it at 80 miles per hour, dude. I think it's as good as de-"

Before Travis could finish that thought, something slammed into the side of the truck! Travis looked at through his window and saw the source. A worm-like tentacle with razor-sharp teeth broke through the window with a shriek! Two more emerged and bit down on Travis' arm, causing him to grit his teeth in pain.

"Grabbers!" Burt yelled.

He tossed Travis his pocket knife and climbed out of his window to get to the back of the truck. Travis sawed through the length of two of the tentacles as Burt shot the last with a pistol. Normally attached to the mouths of Graboids, no Graboid seemed to emerge after the tentacles were taken care of. But that was the least of their problems.

"How come every time there's a moment of peace, we get attacked?!" Travis exclaimed.

"We're not in the clear yet," said Burt, pointing north of the truck.

Travis stared out the wind shield to see their favorite little sphere. This time, however, it got an upgrade. While it still hovered as usual, 4 detached limbs diagonal from each other kept the ground contact. It looked like it was feeling nimble, too; it dug into the ground with one frontal limb and tapped the ground with a rear limb.

Burt looked at the inventory of the truck to find that the only weapons left were pistols, sniper rifles, one AK-47 (much to his disappointment), and low-powered bombs. Burt took one more glance and widened his eyes in surprise. Underneath the side of the mounted, dead Graboid were 5 C4s. He pushed the Graboid as hard as he could and took two C4s and the custom control pad he uses for all his explosives.

"Get in close!" Burt said through the back window.

"Are you crazy?!" Travis exclaimed back.

"I have a plan!" Burt replied as he set up the control switches.

"Is it suicide?!"

"No," Burt grasped the two C4s, "just plain demolition."

Travis turned on the ignition and floored it. The sphere dashed forward, too, ready for a head-on collision. Both Burt and Travis knew the truck couldn't survive another hit to the hood from the sphere, so this plan had to be full-proof.

Burt winded up his arm with one C4, "LEFT!" He yelled.

When it looked like a collision would occur, Travis jerked the wheel left, avoiding the sphere. Burt threw the C4 to the sphere's side and shot one of its limbs to piss it off.

"Circle around! Circle around!"

Travis made a hard right until they were at the other side of the sphere. Burt threw the other C4 to that side and shot frontal limb. It continued rotate, looking close to tipping over. Travis turned the wheel like crazy, making donuts in the process. Burt struggled to stay on, lucky to have the Graboid's body to lean on.

"Blow it to kingdom come, Burt!" Travis yelled in excitement.

"Not yet." Burt picked up another C4 and waited for the sphere to stop rotating.

As soon as the sphere faced them, Burt threw the C4 as hard as he could. It landed right in the center of its triangular wind shield. Control pad ready, Burt had his fingertips set right onto the three switches of the C4s.

"Go to Hell, you green dough ball." Burt flipped the switches all at once.

In less than a second, the three C4s beeped created a blast big enough to smash the windows of the truck and send Burt flying off the back! There was hardly any debris left except for the 4 limbs standing without anything to hold. Travis rose up from the bottom of his seat and stared at the dust and smoke floating around the area of the blast.

"Burt!" He called out, "Burt, where are you?"

Travis heard a groan coming from far behind and recognized it to belong to the old veteran. He opened the door and ran towards the aching Burt on the ground. He was right on top of the three Grabbers they killed earlier, but they didn't do much to break his fall.

"Jesus, Burt! That was just 3 C4s!" Travis exclaimed, "How was the blast that strong?! It was like two thirds of a freaking nuke!"

"Clearly," Burt coughed, "you underestimate the company I get my supplies from."

He put his cap back on and their the three Grabbers onto the truck.

"Hold these for me, will you?" He said as he hung his sunglasses on the one of the Graboid's hooked mandibles, "Thanks."

"Where do you think it went?" Travis asked.

"That, I do not know," said Burt, "but I've got a feeling it'll be back."

"Back? Back from that?" Travis asked unbelievably, "Burt, that was a blast big enough to take out a hoard of Graboids! How could you possibly think that thing would come back?"

"I thought I could kill every Graboid on the day they attacked the entire town with nothing but high-powered dynamite. Didn't work." Burt explained with nostalgia, "I thought I could get my colleagues and me out of Tijuana by killing a Shrieker with a BMG. Ended up penetrating the engine of our only vehicle 60 feet away. I thought if I destroyed my food supply, the Ass Blasters would starve to death, but the bastards' metabolism was too great for consumption! I even thought the African life cycle of a Graboid was just like the American species, but I was wrong!"

Burt put on his cap and looked Travis in the eyes with seriousness, "Every. Plan. Can. Be compromised!"

Travis leaned on the side of the truck, exhausted from the series of events. Burt joined him and took a sip of a Bud Light he brought along.

"Should we get your guns?" Travis asked, pointing at the pile of guns they left at the rock.

"Negative," replied Burt, "With what we're dealing with, we'll need more high-powered weapons. Even something a little stronger than a BMG."

"You don't think there's more of those green spheres, do you?"

"If so, then we'll need to fall back. Any sign of that thing fully operational, we evacuate to the nearest provisional stop. We were never here. Any word of a crater in the fields of Delmarva, we keep our mouths shut, kapish?"

Travis nodded in agreement. Once they left for the doors, however, a large ball fell straight down 20 feet from where they were!

"Speak of the Devil." Burt said, p99 handgun locked and loaded.

The two of them slowly walked around the truck, Burt holding his p99 and Travis grabbing a C4 and the control pad. The sphere wasn't its natural roundness anymore. The blast from the C4s left it looking like the outline of a crumpled piece of paper. The cannons fell out in halves, the world d shield had a humongous crack going down the middle, the sides of the sphere looked as though they'd disintegrate, and the bottom was dropping dust like sand in a giant hourglass!

"You really did a number on it, Burt!" Travis quietly said.

"That's just the capsule. Who knows what happened behind that wind shield." Burt replied.

Their steps were as quiet as a rabbit in a backyard. The sphere maybe be down, but their encounter with the Grabbers meant a Graboid missing its three tongue-like tentacles could still be in the area. Soon, they got close enough to the sphere to touch the wind shield. Travis slid his hand across the glass until he made his way to the triangular tip at the bottom. He felt an edge, meaning it could be opened. He looked at Burt, whom was staring at the tip of the wind shield as well. Burt nodded and pressured his fingernails to the opposite side of the glass. Together, they clawed at the edges and lifted the glass open.

The interior of the sphere was dark, but still easy to make out. There was a dashboard and the whole thing was filled with a strange liquid that was far different than water. Burt attempted to touch the liquid, but it fell right through his palm (literally).

"This is some... Far out alien crap right here!" Travis exclaimed.

"I don't understand." Burt said, worryingly, "It moved as if someone was controlling it. This thing can't be autonomous!"

It was then that the two of them heard a series of heavy breathing from the back of the sphere. Burt aimed his handgun, but Travis put his hand on it, pushing his arm down. He poked his head into the sphere and looked closer into the back.

"Hello?" Travis said, "Anybody there?"

There was no response, just more breathing. In an attempt to get a response, Travis took Burt's gun and dropped it to the ground.

"Hey!" Burt complained.

"If it sees us armed, it'll think we're a threat!" Travis said.

"We threw Graboid parts at it, I shot its vehicle with a Winchester 6 times, you rammed into it with the truck, and I blew it up with three C4s!" Burt explained thoroughly, "I think we're far from peace at this point!"

"You CLODS!" The being at the back yelled in a scratchy female voice.

Burt and Travis turned back to the sphere to see a small ball if green light. Burt knew very well how this would turn out and tackled Travis out of the way. The ball was projected and flew right by them and past the truck at 50 miles per hour!

"Wanna continue being a hippie?" Burt asked rhetorically.

The two of them quickly got up as Burt picked up his p99. They made a run for the truck, but halfway there, something stopped them in their tracks.

"Refrain!"

Burt and Travis' eyes widened as their legs went stiff.

"Now rotate 180 degrees and drop your weapons!"

Burt and Travis complied and turned to face their assailant. Burt dropped his p99 and raised his hands. Now that they could see the attacker, it was clear that the sphere's color was no random paint job. Judging from their assailant, it was made accommodate her. She was lime green in skin color, wearing a V-neck with a dark green outline and a regular green base. Her hair looked similar to the sphere's wind shield, only a paler shade of green and more of a tetrahedron shape rather than a triangle. Her eyes and forehead were covered by a opaque, green visor. On her forehead was a triangular gem known as a peridot. The strangest details about her, however, were her green limbs. Her legs looked more like the legs of a robot attached to the thighs of a human and her arms were similar in color but, starting at her elbows, were wider than an average arm. Her fingers were detached, yet they functioned well and acted as the blaster pointed at Burt and Travis.

"What in God's name are you?" Burt asked.

"That is none of your concern." She replied.

"Listen," said Travis, "we didn't mean to destroy your..."

Travis tried to find a word to identify her mode of transportation. Every word he tried to think of came out as stammering statements.

"Escape pod." The woman confirmed.

"That's the word!" Travis exclaimed, "Yeah, that's it! That's the one. You got that covered. Heh..."

The woman's face went from weighty to an unbelieving expression. Burt shook his head in embarrassment and sighed. Travis was sweating like a runner in Summer as he stared at the charging green ball on the person's "fingers." Burt has been in many situations involving being at gun point, but never before has he had to face something more powerful than a tank. He looked down at his handgun; too risky to grab it, though. If Burt was to so much as to put his hand down, he'd be the first human to be killed by an energy ball.

"I don't know what you two are, but what I do know is that you can easily be labeled as a threat." She took a step forward, making a metallic sound, "You destroyed my escape pod, and I just so happen to have contact with Yellow Diamond. That means eradication for you! Unless you have information on the biology of this planet's inhabitants and their ecosystems, I have no use of you."

The tip of her "fingers" glowed brighter as the ball of energy grew larger.

"Please tell me you went to college." Burt whispered to Travis.

"I thought you did!" Travis whispered back.

Burt had to think of a way out of this situation. She wanted information on Earth's living things, and the closest thing he and Travis had to that info was info on the monsters they hunt. That was when Burt found his silver lining! Knowing the tentacle-less Graboid would most likely still be in the area, he was right when he said one of them was dying today.

'It's either you or me, E.T.' Burt thought to himself.

"If it's biology you want," said Burt, "I'm your man."

"Man?" She asked.

"Never mind that," Burt put his hands down and began explaining, "I happen to know of a certain creature that even someone like you would love to hear about."

The woman lowered her arm with a calmer face, "Proceed."

"Now, this creature, commonly known as a Graboid, is a 30-foot long, spined worm." Burt paused when he saw the person tapping on a holographic monitor formed by the width of her fingers' combined perimeter.

She looked at him confusingly before she knew he was staring at her monitor, "Oh, I'm simply recording the information. Carry on."

Travis slowly took a small step back, only to be glared at by the tetrahedral-haired woman. He returned to his original spot and looked at Burt.

"Graboids are...herbivorous Precambrian life forms. Been on this planet longer than any other creature." Burt could hear the sound faint beeping from the truck.

That faint beeping came from his small old television modified to sense any disturbance in the Earth's crust. The beeping meant that a Graboid was in the vicinity, and close, too.

"They primarily eat vegetation and are quite friendly creatures." Burt added.

"Fascinating." The woman said, unamused.

"Burt, are you serious?" Travis chuckled quietly.

"If you want, you can get a close-up look," said Burt, "Just stomp the ground and you'll get their attention!"

Travis stopped chuckling and stared at Burt fearfully. The woman, however, did as instructed; she stomped her foot, making a metallic sound with each stomp. Travis tried to stop her, but Burt stopped him.

"Trust me," said Burt, "it's either her or us."

"So what, you're gonna just let her die?!" Travis quietly exclaimed.

"I don't see how this is working." The woman grunted through each stomp.

"Don't worry, Graboids are subterranean. They live underground." Burt explained.

"This ritual to summon them seems very inoperab-AAAH!" Before she could end her statement, something from under the ground surfaced and clamped its humongous jaw around her leg!

"Right on time." Burt said.

With the woman's leg in its jaws, the Graboid dug back into the ground and accelerated forward, dragging her with it. The lime green woman screamed frantically, firing an energy ball at the ground to no avail. Meanwhile, Burt and Travis ran to the back of the truck to get a better view of the situation.

"Let go of me, you subterranean clod!" She screamed.

"Burt, what do we do?" Travis asked.

"Witness history in the making," replied Burt, using his binoculars, "Alien vs. Graboid"

The blasts proved inefficient as one of them penetrated the ground, but left nothing but a small burnt mark on the Graboid's skin. This caused irritation to the monster worm. It "dived down," dragging the woman's mid section underground. Soon after, it resurfaced with enough force to throw her into the air!

"Help! Help!" She screamed.

The Graboid stayed above ground and threw its head up, roaring with jaws open! The woman fell down, head first, and witnessed her death. Her eyes widened as she screamed and fell into the Graboid's terrifying jaws! There was nothing left of her but her legs sticking out of the Graboid's jaws. They were kicking back and forth, trying to get free. In a matter of seconds, the legs disappeared into the Graboid; it was finally over.

Burt lowered his binoculars and breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, Burt Gummer has escaped the grasp of death at the cost of another person's life. After everything that had happened, long before the sun had even risen, Travis struggled to process all that had happened, fainted, and landed on the back of the truck.

The Graboid spat out the alien's limbs, detachable fingers, and the gem that was previously on her forehead. With that out of its stomach, the Graboid burrowed underground and departed, likely to return one day.

"Adios, Short Tongue." Burt said, tipping his cap.

Burt jumped off the truck and walked towards the area where the regurgitated materials were. His curiosity was peeked. A Graboid could eat nearly anything edible and only spit it out when it knows it's a dangerous material. The alien's limbs may not have looked natural, but she had perfect control of them and moved them as if they had nerves. What reason would the Graboid have to spit them out?

Burt picked up one of the limbs, but was astounded to find that it was hollow! The fingers remained on the ground rather than following the arm, and when he picked them up they felt like test tubes. The interior of the arm attachments were only wide enough to fit over Burt's wrist and the leg attachments looked like they could barely fit over his foot.

"She must have been one short alien," said Burt, "How does she control these?"

He picked up the "fingers" and stored them in the arm attachments, picked up the leg attachments, and kicked the gem along as he walked towards the truck.

"Guess I can earn a fee hundred bucks with this gem." Burt said.

He threw the attachments onto the truck, hearing a groan of pain in return. Travis sat up to find the attachments on his stomach and threw them off.

"What the Hell happened?"

"Well, after our green friend got eaten back there, ol' Short Tongue back there spat these out." Burt bent down and picked up the peridot gem, "And this, too."

He tossed the gem to Travis and reached into the truck for his camera.

"Short Tongue?" Travis asked.

"The Graboid." Burt confirmed, "Stumpy was the first officially named Graboid.. Figured since we chopped off our hungry buddy's tongues, I should give it a name."

Once Burt found his camera, he attached it to a tripod and set it a few feet behind the truck. He made sure it got a good view of their dead Graboid mounted on the truck.

"Get in the shot, Travis!" Burt said, "Bring those attachments, too."

Travis jumped off the truck, holding the attachments, and walked in front of the Graboid. Burt set up the camera. The thought of the series of events that had just happened left his head.

"You can transfer this photo to your phone wirelessly, right?" Burt asked.

"I know a guy." Travis replied, "But Burt, this story's gonna be big! Forget about Graboids, this generation is all about aliens!"

"Once this story gets out," said Burt, putting the camera on lapse, "everyone will be asking questions."

"Are you ready for anything that'll result from this?" Burt asked.

Travis glanced at the gem and the attachments, thinking about the story that'll reach the press. 'Dirt Dragons and Green Aliens' raced through his head back and forth. He couldn't stop thinking of what might happen, but he looked at Burt and nodded with a confident expression. He steadily set the attachments at the edge of the truck and gave Burt the gem.

"Someone's gotta present the gem. Age before beauty!" Travis chuckled.

Burt grinned and held the gem with his thumb and index finger. The two of them smiled at the camera, Travis doing the shaka next to the dead Graboid's head and Burt giving a thumbs up while presenting the gem.

"Like father," said Burt.

"Like son," said Travis.

"Out on the prairie,"

"Killing Graboids for fun!"

"Burt Gummer,"

"Travis Welker,"

"If we see you, you run!" They both finished strong.

Snap!