learn?"
"Yes, yes."
"If you're not going to kill me, are you going to perform weird sexual experiments on me?"
"No. Your sex is far too boring for us. It would only be useful for sedating prisoners."
"Oh." Harry couldn't help but feel disappointed. Although he hadn't believed in aliens up to this point, the weird sexual experiments they were rumored to perform had always piqued his interest. "Well, I've got to do my show in less than twenty minutes. What is it you want? Are you here seeking your salvation?"
"No, I am here on—what can I call it?—a critical appraisal. Although my name is unpronounceable for you, I have selected the name Roger. It is my job to determine whether your kind is ready to move from being zalzan to oxyzan. Worthy to contact."
"And why do you need me?"
"Call me Roger, please. I enjoy hearing the name. It sounds a lot like our word for flower. You have been chosen to represent your feces."
"Species?"
"Right."
Harry straightened, sucking in his somewhat ample gut. "Well, then, Roger, I'm proud to—"
"You have been chosen because you are the most despicable human my superiors could find."
"What? How dare you—"
"You see, we only communicate with species who have developed some consistency in their belief structure. We do not tolerate inconsistent thinking, especially of the moral kind. Your species has been most perplexing. You often say one thing and do another. Take your religions, for example. While we are atheists, we tolerate religions in ozyzan as long as they are consistent. They must believe in one religion and adhere to it accordingly. But your kind not only has an apparently endless number of religions, but you seldom behave in accordance with the particular religious pimples."
"Principles?"
"As I said."
"I still don't see how I fit into this."
"I have reached the third phase of my appraisal. The first phase is silent reconnoitering. I watch and evaluate from a distance, then transmit my report. Some species are approved just based on this phase. If not, I move to the second phase—abduction. I capture and more closely study the thinking of a random sample, returning them with their memories erased when I'm finished. I report these findings, and if still my superiors are not satisfied, I move to the third and final phase."
"Which is?"
"Rehabilitation. My superiors select one individual, one who is the purest example of inconsistency we can find—in this case, yourself—and see if he is capable of developing consistent thinking."
Harry bristled. "I don't know why you've selected me—"
"Does your religion not have the Ten Commandments which all followers are required to obey? We have found that you break most of these rules on a regular basis."
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "You're mistaken! While I'm far from perfect, I set the highest example for my followers as possible."
Roger scurried over to a console, tapped a few buttons, and an image of Harry appeared on the screen. It was from less than an hour before, when he was in a somewhat compromising position with his secretary.
Harry felt a warmth spread across his face. "Oh, that."
"She is married, I believe"
"Well, yes, technically, but she has been separated from her husband for over a year."
"It is only one of your many indiscretions," Roger said.
"No! I admit I was wrong in that case, but I am a man who is much admired, I assure you."
"It is not difficult for an inconsistent being to be idolized by other beings of equal inconsistency. But you are a leader in your religion! Surely you should be held to a higher standard?"
"Yes, but usually I am a man of high moral fiber."
"Really? Must I show you other tapings?"
"No, no, please." Harry sighed. "All right, I admit it. I'm far from perfect. What is it you are proposing?"
"We give you one month to demonstrate improvement. If you can maintain your principles—practicing