"Grab a beer and we'll talk."(Kevin Hughes) "There it is!”

Everyone in the Radar Room could hear the excitement in the Pilot’s voice. For the last fifteen minutes the scrambled Jets had been…well, scrambling to catch up with the doggone thing. Even with the Afterburners on, and exceeding (by several hundred miles an hour) the published supposed top speed of America’s newest Fighter Jet - it had taken a long time to get to the unknown object.

“What’s it doing?”

They heard a small gasp from the Pilot.

“It’s slowing down! I don’t believe this. I think it is maneuvering to pull along side me.”

“What? Can it do that?”

The Pilot laughed.

“I don’t know what it can do. It was going four thousand miles an hour, came to a dead stop and made a U turn. I know we can’t do that. Not if we want to live.”

There was a dead silence in the Radar Room. The direct line to Higher Command was in the hand of the Officer in Charge. He wasn’t going to make the call until they knew…for sure…the objects intention…or its disappearance.

The silence drew out. And out. And out.

“Base, this is Badger One. Permission to return to base…er…uh…with the Unknown Craft. Over.”

“What?!”

“Base, I say again, permission to return to base…with the unknown craft. You aren’t going to believe this.”

“Permission granted. Uh…should we take any…precautions. Over.”

“Negative Base. There isn’t any danger. You’ll see. Over. “

The Colonel handling the Radio Transmissions keyed the mic one more time:

“Badger One, this is Base…how do you know there is no danger? Over.”

“Because, Base, on the side of the craft is the Captain’s name. Over.”

“Badger One, you can read the Captain’s name stenciled on the side of the Craft? Over.”

There was a quick sparkling laugh over the radio. You could hear the smile in the Pilot’s voice.

“Base, this is Badger One, it isn’t stenciled, Sir. It is glowing like a ruby laser on the side of the craft. And…it says:

Pilot: Captain Bob. Commander: Shirley, and Spec One: Betty- Over.”

The Colonel was incredulous.

“Badger One, are you sure there isn’t any danger? Over.”

That same laugh again:

“Badger One to Base, yes I am sure. I mean what danger can a guy named Bob be? Besides I can see him. He held up a can and pointed to it…and then pointed to the ground. Over.”

There was another long drawn out silence in the Control Room. The Colonel was the first to respond.

“Badger One, this is Base. What kind of can was he holding? Over.”

Again there was a chuckle before the Military Training kicked back in.

“Base, this is Badger One…the can was a beer. A Budweiser. Wait…the lettering is changing on the side of the Craft. Wait one….”

A huge belly laugh came over the speakers.

“Badger One! Are you okay? What’s going on?”

It took the Pilot a few ticks to get his mind in gear again. He had laughed so hard he almost lost control of the airplane. He wiped his eyes with the back of his gloved hand and keyed the Mic again.

“Base, the is Badger One, I am just fine. The lettering on the side of the craft says: “ Let’s land and grab a beer…we have lots to talk about. We’ll buy the first round.” Over.

You could have heard a pin drop when the Colonel finally used the Direct Line to the President.

Everyone listened in as he Spoke to the President.

“No,Mr. President, they are not a danger. They will be landing in around twelve minutes.”

Everyone watched as the Colonel managed to keep a straight face while listening to the President at the other end.

“No, Mr. President. No need to call out any reinforcements. We have visual confirmation now. I will send you a Live Feed.”

All the screens lit up. They heard the President clearly:

“What the heck? Does that say: “Let’s grab a beer - or two, and have a chat?”

“Yes, Mr. President, it appears so.”

“Well, then, get them a beer!”

That was the easiest order the Colonel had ever received from a higher up. The President’s Irish ancestry showed up in his next Order.

“And Colonel, make sure its a Guinness- I don’t want these creatures to think we don’t have good beer.”

The entire Radar room broke out in a laugh that let the tension leak out of everyone.

“Aye, Aye, Mr. President, We are on it.”

It wasn’t the “First Contact” anyone ever expected. No book, movie, or script ever thought that the first time we made Contact…it would be over a couple of Beers at a picnic table at a rather busy Air Force Base in California. After the introductions were over, the first words of the Aliens became a Viral Sensation. It adorned many a T-Shirt, coffee cup, and became the International Slogan for all Humanity. Bob simply said to everyone nearby:

“Grab a beer, sit down, and we’ll talk.”

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