[RORY and LORELAI duck behind the counter of Luke’s diner. Debris is all around them. Sounds of explosions and alien ray guns can be heard outside. LORELAI frantically tries to fix a coffee machine while Rory sits, pale and speaking rapidly under her breath.]

RORY: Wow, aliens. Stars Hollow sure has changed in the last three months. Not the bucolic wonderland I remember. It was nice to see Dean again though. Nice to see him turned into a pod person. Nice to shoot him.

LORELAI (speaking through teeth clenched around a screw from the coffee maker): Yeah, you’re a regular Ripley now that these aliens have made our town their home, aren’t ya?

RORY: Ripley? The incredible Mr. Ripley? Tom Ripley of Ripley’s Believe It or Not? Because believe me, I don’t believe it at all. Not at all. Not one bit.

LORELAI (sighing): Ripley! From Alien! Sigourney Weaver in her break out role! I alway knew all that studying was no good. Reading the Tom Hardy Boys didn’t get you ready for an alien invasion, did it?

RORY: Well, no, but a lot of literature features themes of alienation and that’s pretty close, right?

[LORELAI lights up, the coffee maker is working! She smiles, pats the coffee maker and jumps up to grab that sweet sweet Java from the counter. As she stands, TAYLOR looms behind her, sweaty, besweatered and covered in gore. His eyes glow an unearthly green. LORELAI shrieks and RORY jumps up. They take turns shrieking.]

TAYLOR (his voice a low, rasping groan): Got to… ensure the… historical feel…. is preserved… for Korak!!!

[He pulls his hand back, revealing a twisted stub, half tentacle and half claw. Just as he is about to strike there’s a THWACK, his eyes roll up and he collapses to the ground. Behind him stands LUKE, a bag of party ice in each hand.

LUKE: You can never have too much ice.

- - -


[Our party exits Luke’s diner, LORELAI and RORY clutching coffees, LUKE dragging a bound and gagged TAYLOR, and stands, regarding the town square. The gazebo is half crushed by a flying saucer embedded in the ground, debris fills the square, some burning, some smoldering. The town sign still stands, proudly but slightly charred.]

LORELAI: Well, we’re going to have a little bit of cleaning up to do before the next parade.

RORY: Oh, a parade! I can’t wait for our first annual Victory Over the Invaders Parade! It’s going to be quite a spectacle, all tin foil and antennae and all sorts of alien accouterment.

LUKE: Take it easy, alien hunters. We haven’t gotten rid of them yet. Wait… do you hear that?

[LUKE stops and cocks his head]

LUKE: Oh, God, they’re coming!

[LORELI and RORY listen intently to the low rumble in the distance. LORELAI purses her lips and squints.]

LORELAI: Mmmmm. I don’t know about that — the aliens have more of a screeeeeeee whoa whoa whoa whoa scrreeeeee…

RORY: Chucka wooka Chucka wooka screeeee screeee

[LORELI and RORY continue making sounds. LUKE is not amused.]

LUKE: Will you please SHUT UP!

[LORELAI stops making noises. RORY continues.]

LORELAI: That’s definitely the sound of a large diesel engine. Really large.

RORY: Like construction equipment? Is someone going to steamroll the space invaders?

LORELAI: Maybe. Definitely sounds like someone, someone human, is coming to help. Just a question of who…

RORY: The government?

LORELAI: Is this the kind of response time you’re accustomed to the government offering? If that’s the case then I’m moving to where you’re living! Do you have a bed for a middle-aged mom fleeing alien persecution?

[The sound gets louder, almost there. Suddenly a massive tan military vehicle pulls into the square, running down the sign that had up to now stood so proudly. All three glance at TAYLOR’s supine body.]

LUKE: Well, glad he didn’t see that.

[The tank, or whatever it is, pulls to a stop in front of the trio. A hatch on too pops open and as they wait, breath held, out pops the helmeted head of a woman.]

MS. PATTY: Hello, Sailor!

[MS. PATTY smiles and gives them a wink, the well chewed, mostly smoke butt of a cigar jauntily between her teeth.]


MS. PATTY: Who else?

[The door of the tank opens. Out pops KIRK, shirtless but nonplussed.]

LORELAI: KIRK?!? You have a tank?!?

KIRK: No, I do not have a tank.

RORY: Kirk, if you don’t have a tank then what are you driving?

LUKE: It’s an MRAP, a big armored army truck that can take bomb blast like nothing happened. Real popular in Afghanistan.

[KIRK gives a serious nod.]

KIRK: And it’s not mine. It’s my uncle’s.

[MS. PATTY calls from her position at the top of the truck.]

MS. PATTY: It’s a helluva ride. Reminds me of my monster truck days.

LORELAI: While I do need to hear the story of your monster truck days, right now I think we need to figure out what to do about our interstellar tourists. Kirk, I assume you’ve got a plan?

KIRK: We were going to have dinner. Luke, are you serving dinner tonight?

LUKE: No, Kirk. The restaurant is closed due to unforeseen events.

KIRK: Huh. Too bad. Is anything open.

LUKE: NO, KIRK! The whole town is under alien attack and you want a hamburger?!?

KIRK: No, I want a chili burger.

LUKE: THERE WILL BE NO CHILI BURGERS UNTIL THE ALIENS ARE GONE! What the hell are you planning on doing with your MRAP anyway?

KIRK: Just taking it for a test drive. Seemed like ideal conditions to try it out on rough terrain.

MS. PATTY: Rides like a dream.

[Just then a black jaguar careens around the corner into the square. It skids out, hits the curb and spins into the gazebo with a spray of dirt and a loud crash. After a moment the door opens and EMILY GILMORE gets out confidently, fixing her hair with one finger, a cocktail shaker in one hand.]

EMILY: Surprise, surprise, finding you two at the diner on a night like this. Get your coffee already?

LORELAI: Nice to see you too, Mom.

RORY: Hi grandma!

LUKE: Emily.

[EMILY reaches into the car and grabs a martini glass. She pours a clear, frothy liquid from her shaker into it and takes a drink.]

EMILY: Not the same without an olive but I suppose it will do.

LORELAI: Martinis? Aliens invade and you jump in the car with a shaker full of martinis?

EMILY: Oh, give it a rest Lorelai. Aliens invade and you DON’T have martinis?

RORY: She makes a good point, Mom. Got anything else to drink, Grandma?

MS. PATTY: Any bourbon? Maybe some absinthe? Seems like the time.

[EMILY opens the back door of the jag. The back seat is piled with cases of liquor and ammunition.]

LORELAI: Now the liquor I remember from my childhood, but the ammo is new. Why exactly do you have enough bullets to stage an invasion of Canada?

[EMILY quickly finishes her drink and pours another.]

EMILY: Because, Lorelai, the trunk is full of guns. Now, are we going to do something about these aliens or are we going to stand in the square like we’re at one of your ridiculous town festivals?