It takes some concentration, and I have to be rested and not taking any allergy medicine, but, really, being able to shoot fireballs or outrace locomotives is nothing next to being able to make friends out of thin air.

And they’re not bottom-of-the-barrel specimens, either. Joe is great with video games and computers, and otherwise is basically a life-support device for the world’s fastest-moving mouth. He’s either chewing his way through some mountain of food that weighs twice as much as his skinny butt, or he’s talking a blue-and totally hilarious-streak.

Emma is our moral compass. The part that gets her worked up about Alien Outlaws is that they’re on Terra Firma and doing harm not just to people but to Nature. Mother Earth has no better advocate than her Birkenstock-wearing self.

Emma’s older brother is Willy. He’s the ultimate wing man, built like a brick and slightly harder to scare than one too. He’s our go-to guy when it comes to weapons and engines and stuff like that. Plus, he’s more loyal than, like, Batman’s butler Alfred, Sam in The Lord of the Rings, Wesley in The Princess Bride, and King Arthur’s horse combined.

Finally, Dana is, well… I guess you could say she’s my dream girl. She manages to be both the most attractive and the most grounded person I’ve ever encountered. In the universe. Remember, I haven’t exactly been operating out of a Montana shack all these years.

Oh, and all four of them happen to be outstanding at don’t-try-this-at-home motorcycle stunts. Which we were thoroughly enjoying on this particular night, chasing after an eighteen-wheeler. Keep in mind that aliens don’t necessarily abide by the same rules humans do when it comes to minimum driving age.

“Slalom!” Willy, who was in the lead, called out. One of our favorite tricks.

We leaned the bikes almost on their sides and-get this-zipped under the trailer… behind wheels seven, eight, nine, and ten, and in front of wheels eleven through eighteen… and came out safely on the other side.