They would always show up in the early evening. Usually at a cocktail party, local tavern, or some informal gathering.
They were only five inches tall. Literally. Just tiny little nippers in top hats and frock coats. They looked human in appearance but no one could really tell. At least they did have two arms and two legs.
And they were right there on the floor. Saying things like: “You don’t have to live in perpetual conflict” or “Would you like to discover the cure for cancer?” or some such other cute little aphorism or verbal mucky-muck in their pipsqueak voices.
The humans would put up with them for awhile. There’d be some nervous laughter and joking with the Little Person. But after a time, sure enough, a big old foot would come down. Scrunch!
And the Little Person was no more. Just a gooey puddle on the floor no bigger than a dog turd.
It was usually the alpha male who’d step forward for the scrunch. The tough guy, the big lug, the big asshole. But not always. Sometimes a scrawny nerd would be goaded into the deed. With the whole group around him, egging him on.
No matter to the Little Person. Big foot always the same, whether size 16 or 6. Little shrimp enshrouded in a momentary shadow, then the big old shoe leather came crashing down. Always the sciir-ruunch of shattered bones followed by the scoow-weesh of goopy mass pressed into the wooden floor or pavement.
The transmission which reached planet Earth was undetectable and indecipherable by humanoid technologies. But a rough translation would have run something like: “No need to bother with these butt-wads. They’re beyond help. Proceed to your next assignment.”
The spacecraft lifted from the planet with re-constituted souls on board. Once it cleared the Earth’s atmosphere, it accelerated to many times the speed of light on its way to the Andromeda galaxy.
