It’s painful, but you manage to squeeze your brain and juice out a question for the alien.

“Where is… your planet?” you ask between headaches.

“About 4.2 light years that way,” Sam/Phil says, pointing to the right with its one big hand. “Deep purple. Sparkling rings. Toxic gas clouds. You can’t miss it. We get a lot of compliments on the rings, but really, they’re just ice rocks.”

You can now ask the following:

“What’s your species called?”

“What’s it like having two tongues?”

Did you exhale? Click here.

Go back to the email to ask more questions.

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