Davis arrived with a real live flash, the kind that reminds you of lightning striking within death's distance and knocks you on your posterior disavowing you of the gratitude of being spared due to your being really quite sore. Yes, exactly like that. The dead feel no pain. Getting there though that's the hard part.
He walked out of his crater, strutting like he'd just got the digits of the hottest girl on earth. There was definitely some overtly audacious pizazz in that chipper prance of his, the kind that made you sit up and say damn that boy can walk. Some where between the transition from crawling to walking there's an art form under appreciated by society at large, Davis was a walking Rembrandt. Even the frogs weren't an impediment, he simply squashed any that lay in his way.
He saw a mini assembly of fellow humans and moseyed on over.
"Greetings beings of planet of earth. I'm here to save you from the eighties."
Melanie looked him up and down. "You're too late."