‘Funny, look at this!’

I stopped editing the newsreel and squinted, trying to figure out what Francesca wanted me to see.

She paused the video and pointed at one of the aliens.

‘There,’ she said.

The huge insect-like figures, clad in silk robes, strode across the square, alongside human dignitaries and military officials in ceremonial uniform.

The video was Francesca’s footage of the “G20+” inauguration, which had taken place a few hours earlier. An historical event, the first official meeting involving an alien race.

Despite the media’s pessimistic predictions, dialogue between our species was already underway. The size of the aliens had initially caused much general concern. But diplomatic delegations had met in orbit, exchanging messages thanks to Google-based translation softwares.

Who would have thought those enormous, arachnid-shaped extraterrestrials would manifest expressions of peace and respect? Not many of us, but the news was immediately welcomed by the UN Secretary General, Guterres, in an open letter published in the New York Times. Many of the Heads of State in Rome for the Summit, had echoed Guterres’s words in press releases and tweets. The Pope himself had acclaimed the arrival of these ‘distant relatives’ during the Sunday Angelus.

Hosting an “Inter-World Summit” within the G20 framework in the Eternal City seemed auspicious. A plus sign was added to the G20 logo in honour of the extraterrestrials.

There was no building large enough to host the meetings, the aliens were simply too big. So the venue chosen was the Olympic Stadium. Massive crowds converged on the edge of the Tiber. Thousands of curious citizens, pilgrims, protesters, swaying in a formless mass, had been giving the police a hard time.

‘Look carefully at how they walk,’ Francesca’s finger tapped on the screen. ‘It’s awkward.’

I could see now.

Though the robes hid most of the asymmetrical bodies, the clunky movement was evident. They proceeded clumsily. Two legs tripped against each other, while the third intervened to prevent falling.

‘Precarious,’ was the word that came to my mind.

‘Unstable,’ Francesca said.

I returned swiftly to my newsreel, which was almost due.

In my report I underlined how the G20+ talks proceeded with few points of discord. My press contact at the Foreign Office informed me that the arachnids shared human concerns on climate change. They too had issues due to excessive exploitation of natural resources. So they were particularly interested in our calls to action on sustainable development goals.

Potentials for trade emerged. Apparently resources which were particularly scarce on earth flourished on the extraterrestrial planet and vice-versa. The sullen newcomers appeared benevolent and well disposed. It looked like we were destined to co-exist and collaborate in perfect harmony.

The talks came to an end and the ‘Rome Planet Pact’ was drafted. An opera to celebrate the signing was out of the question, for logistical reasons. But the Rome Film Festival was due that week, with projections dedicated to the silent film era. An open air projection of a historical silent comedy film in the marvelous location of the Baths of Caracalla, seemed like a perfect occasion.

There was much excitement. The authorities and international stars and guests took their seats in a very festive atmosphere. Speeches of welcome and expectation by the Mayor and the Festival’s president opened this very special night to the general appreciation of all present.

As the first black and white images appeared on the large screen, the first laughs sounded across the audience, with Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy fumbling and tripping over each other.

The alien representatives were seated in the front rows as guests of honour. As the audience participation and the laughs intensified, their faces changed colour. A vibration occurred between their eyes. Their oyster-shaped mouths twisted into a strange grimace.

Was this their way of laughing? Or was this some other emotion that we humans could not yet interpret?

Alas, it was no laughter.

The arachnids’ rage ripped through the air. Their wrath wiped out everything like a shock wave. Vessels dived down from earth’s orbit and devastated cities, towns, villages. Little could our conventional weapons do against the power of the arachnids’ force. Humanity was decimated in a few days.

A couple of months had passed when I met Francesca in the Metro Ottaviano shelter, yet we looked twenty years older. The muffled rumble of the detonations echoed from above ground. The war against the aliens was raging on.

We embraced, Francesca’s hand touched mine. At that moment I remembered her finger tapping on a video screen, on a day which seemed like years ago.

‘Of course…’ I exclaimed, grabbing her index finger.

Francesca looked at me, puzzled.

‘You had seen it. The single most important thing… the reason!’

She looked at me, wide-eyed.

My jaw dropped. Images of the G20+ opening ceremony unraveled in my mind. The aliens striding across the square. Their struggling, irregular legs, stumbling…

Traveling inconceivable distances, they had come across our strange blue planet. Here they found words of peace, respect, dialogue, exchanges, a future of collaboration, the preservation of nature…

Seated amidst the wondrous ruins of Caracalla at the Film Festival, the arachnids could not believe what was happening. On the enormous silver screen, people were falling, hurting themselves, tripping over, tumbling to the ground, humiliated. Yet the human audience around them was noisily laughing their heads off, almost in tears.

Thus the demise of the human race. Almost completely wiped out now by the fury of the arachnids. Cities on fire, seas boiling, mountains crumbling under thick smoke and a blacked out sky.

So it had come to pass that it was Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy who had been, somewhat remarkably, responsible for the end of the world.