Writing Prompt: Aliens threaten the Earth with apocalypse unless one person is surrendered. Write from that guy’s perspective.

Howard stood still and looked up at the sky. It was dark out, save for a slight silver glow atop the cylindrical object that seemed to mirror the light of the moon.

“I ain’t surrendering to no Mexican,” he said.

“They aren’t Mexican, Howard. They’re aliens. They’re going to destroy the planet if you don’t help us here.”

“Let me ask you a question. Do you like your job? Do you like your family? Do you like your country? I love my country, but these illegal aliens are going to take your jobs away if give them the chance.”

“Howard, I cannot make this any more clear. These people—things—are not from Mexico. They are not from this planet. We don’t even know where they’re from.”

“If you don’t know where they’re from, then how you know they ain’t no Mexicans?”

“We know. We know they aren’t Mexicans. We are 100% aware that they are not Mexican.”

“Sorry, General Commander Sir, or whatever your name is, I ain’t giving up my job to a bunch of illegal aliens. I love my country too much.”

“Your country is going to be destroyed, Howard! There will be no more America if you refuse this.”

“I’d rather die in an America where full-blooded Americans don’t have to fight Mexicans for their jobs than one where all the CEOs are speaking Mexican to their American servants.”

The general screamed and threw his hat on the floor. It was clear he wanted Howard shot, but the amount of cameras surrounding them made it quite challenging. There was also the fact that the visitors wanted Howard alive at threat of annihilation, which had stopped countless murder attempts already. He grabbed his hat off the floor, brushed the dirt off, and marched back over to the line of soldiers. Howard remained still. He looked back up at the object levitating silently in the sky. He was pretty sure he could see the Mexican flag. The speakers behind Howard turned on again.

“Hello, this is General Hughes. Are you sure you are unwilling to take Howard dead?”

“Yes,” returned a voice that sounded identical to General Hughes’. “He has insulted our heritage; your death is too good for him.”

Howard laughed. “God damn Mexicans, go back to your side of the border. We don’t want none of your chalupas!” he shouted.

General Hughes ran back over to Howard, followed by closely another high-ranking officer.

“Shut up! Howard, shut up! You’re going to get this entire planet destroyed.”

The second officer stopped just behind the General. “Why do they even want this guy so bad?” he asked, staring at Howard who was now humming the national anthem softly.

“Have you not been following this at all?” the General asked.

“Not really, I’ve been on deployment for the past few days.”

“This idiot was the first one to make contact, he heard them on a damn CB radio. Who even uses those things anymore? When he heard they weren’t from America, he went off on some racist rant about Mexicans and ended up insulting their ancestors. He even went on a tirade against the damn creature’s mothers. We don’t even know if they have mothers, but he spent the better part of an hour comparing their mother’s body-type to stars in supernova. Apparently the damn creatures had this entire rant played through their ships, and repeated back to the home planet, and now they want Howard.”

“So we can’t just tie him up?”

“We can, but all those damn human rights groups are up in arms about ‘freedom of choice’ and are threatening a full-on uprising.”

“God damn liberals,” Howard said.

“Those liberals are saving your pathetic life, Howard, you piece of shit,” said General Hughes.

“And I’m saving your job from a bunch of Mexicans,” Howard said.

The general opened his mouth, then shut it. He opened it again, shut it, then turned and walked away. The second officer followed.

Howard looked back up at the floating object. He was amazed Mexico had such futuristic technology. Probably stole it from the Americans, he thought. He couldn’t believe the military wanted to welcome these Mexicans to their land, and then surrender one of their own—a good, God-fearing, true-to-life American. He was appalled.

“This is your final warning,” pierced a disembodied voice.

The General ran over to Howard. He was carrying a piece of paper. He handed it to him.

“What’s this?” Howard asked.

“It’s a note from the President. It explains that, if you board this ship, the United States of America will permanently ban Mexicans from ever entering, legal or illegal. It is also signed by the Mexican president. All you have to do is surrender yourself. If you don’t, the borders will be permanently opened, and all Americans will be fired from their jobs.”

Howard quickly glanced down at the contract. There were quite a few big words, which caused Howard a bit of difficulty, but he caught the gist of the terms.

“So, let me get this straight. Y’all negotiating with terrorists?” Howard asked. “I thought this was America. I thought we believed in Freedom.”

“Howard. God dammit. If you don’t walk over to that ship right now, you are going to forever turn the United States of America into the United States of America-Mexico. That’s on you.”

“Sorry, but a great leader once said that the United States does not negotiate with terrorists. If I have to personally stand by the border every day with my shotgun and stop those damn Mexicans, I’ll do that. But I ain’t negotiating with no terrorists—especially no damn floating Mexicans.”

The General took out his pistol and fired. Howard’s limp body tumbled backwards as the sky lit up in a blinding flash of white.