A lone green-skinned alien crash-landed in a soggy meadow yesterday, its dented saucer spewing steam. Hoping to observe Earth’s habits, it trudged to a nearby convention center and walked straight into a furry convention. The sight of humans in bulky, cartoonish wolf suits and neon cat masks made its three eyes widen in panic.

One person, sweating in a fluffy tiger costume, offered the alien a glittery sticker that read “Furry Friend.” The alien’s antennae twitched, and it let out a shrill buzz like a malfunctioning smoke alarm, already desperate to zip back to its home planet.

Things spiraled at the convention’s “fursuit parade.” A lanky human in a sparkly dog suit tried to teach the alien a dance move called “the tail wag,” grabbing its arm to sway along.

The alien, its green skin paling, dodged a group in bear and bunny costumes chanting “Group cuddle!” It clutched a glowing orb flashing images of its planet’s silent, rocky plains, nearly dropping it when a furry in a pink unicorn suit offered a cupcake topped with a tiny edible spaceship. Stumbling over a stray plush paw, the alien bolted for the door, its spindly legs a blur.

The furries, oblivious, ended the convention with a karaoke session, belting out a song about “cosmic paws.” They’re already sketching a fursuit based on the alien’s knobby head for next year’s event. Meanwhile, the creature’s probably halfway across the galaxy, warning its planet to steer clear of any world where humans dress like oversized plush toys.

By nightfall, the alien was back in its saucer, leaving a scrawled message on a fence post: “Earth: Weird suits, bad idea.”