The guy behind the counter must spend all of his time reading Sprite-related literature because he is very well-informed on the subject. One might even say that he has dedicated himself to this lemon-lime soft drink to a degree that he is blind to other things, like the presence of two very obvious aliens who have just entered is workplace with robot voices and light up ears. Maybe you see a slight dawning on his face when they do finally sit down at his counter, but it is not until those ears start transmitting data back to the mother ship that a full realization of what is happening has occurred.
He has saved Earth from certain alien annihilation by demonstrating our superiority in sugar beverage refinement. Which is maybe what he had been unintentionally training for his entire life? But when this day is over, and the twins return to their home place, a six-pack of Sprite in hand, what happens next?
He has no skills outside of Sprite salesmanship to fall back on, which isn’t much because frankly, this stuff sells itself. So this was it, the highlight of his life. A planet saved, but where is his parade?
Taking solace in the cool crisp clean taste of Sprite, he opens up a pamphlet about this new thing call “Diet Sprite” and begins to read. Looking up to the sky, he thinks, “some day.”
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