The day after the cylinders opened, everyone got their very own parasite from outer space. They looked like puppies in order to minimize the rioting, burning and general awfulness that panicked humans perpetrate in the name of being the animal that prays and wars. After all, every dead human was one less "doghouse"!
Mum and Da did their best to not look terrified as the parasites swarmed over Harry with obvious interest.
Someone, they knew, was going to get a bellyful of space parasite eggs!
One of the "puppies" ran off, and Harry felt the tug of geneered pheromones like a choke-chain wrapped about the root of his very soul.
Perhaps Mum was thinking bad thoughts about fire and hatchets again?
Overfull with writhing larvae, the "puppy" rubbed itself against the ground and gave off an awful cloud of stink. Mum thought deeply of algebra and novel sex positions in an attempt to mask her murderous intent.
But the thing knew. IT KNEW.
Like a furry spring it leapt upon her chest and vomited a mass of space parasite eggs into her mouth.
She struggled in vain, for it wasn't so much many tiny eggs as it was an enormous mucus-lubed sac of them. It all went down in one sudden, awful swallow.
Having fulfilled its cosmos-appointed purpose, the thing rolled over and expired.
Later, Harry found a new parasite had been sent to link with him. He soaked a tennis ball in 9-oxybutylcharybdotoxin and chucked it at the "puppy".
"FOOL INCUBOY," the "puppy" barked in his mind, "THERE ARE NO NEURONS IN THIS NODE. WE WILL LICK YOUR POISON—"
"—AND REGURGITATE THE BONES OF NAUGHTY CHILDREN WE HAVE EATEN JUST THIS VERY MORNING."
Suddenly, Jasper the quisling scooted up on his fly rollerblades.
The thing communed with whatever was growing inside of Jasper. "The Wilsons down the street are pretending to be subsumed," said Jasper, "But they put the better parts of themselves down the garbage disposal."
"WE KNOW," barked the "puppy" silently, "YOU WILL NOW ENGAGE IN STANDARD PROCEDURE 3905."
"Stab, shoot, burn!" chuckled Jasper.
Harry couldn't stand it anymore. "Vomit your eggs into me, you little bastard! Get to it! Or so help me God I will squeeze the life out of you!"
And so he did.
"ASK YOURSELF," the "puppy" barked softly inside Harry's mind, "HOW IS IT WE FIT, OUR TWO SPECIES? WE EVOLVED ON DIFFERENT WORLDS, WINDING ABOUT DIFFERENT STARS, SO MANY LIGHT YEARS APART."
"IT IS CLEARLY THE WILL OF YOUR GOD THAT WE SHOULD CLEAVE INTO YOU. YOU ARE A CONFUSED SPECIES, BLIND TO YOUR COSMIC DESTINY—"
"—BUT WE KNOW. AND WE ARE HERE TO HELP YOU BE WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE."
Harry had to admit, it wasn't so bad once you just let go and accepted it.
With their stubby legs, the things from the stars needed people to push them around in carts...
The chilly limits of the squared-cubed law meant they needed people to keep them warm...
They needed every one of us...
And isn't that what makes life worth living, to be needed?
Every one of us, needed, perhaps even "loved"...
Until we're all used up.