Visitors 101 Our most distant cousins have been visiting us for millennia. It is only in relatively recent history since the invention of the camera that their surprisingly friendly visitations have been documented on film. Previously humans relied on written accounts or artistic depictions, some of which we hope to show you should they be released to us soon. However this evidence, when it occasionally surfaces is quickly confiscated or ridiculed and labelled as a hoax, so amazingly these visits remain merely a myth until this day. In dusty boxes hidden in shady museums and secure facilities these pictures are mostly hidden away indefinitely until someone discovers them and is brave enough to leak them onto the internet and into public consciousness. Here is our first batch of pictorial documentation of these visitors throughout the ages. Visitor 064 - c1960s Cxuxsa -Bivalvian "Ladies, Gentlemen, and Esteemed Lifeforms of the Program, It is an honour—nay, an anomalous privilege - to stand before you today as both a best man and the most intelligent descendant of a crustacean this galaxy has ever seen. I know you’re all wondering, “How does a humanoid alien descended from shellfish even get invited to a wedding, let alone the job of best man?” And to that, I say: when you’ve shared 1960s top-secret programs and late-night chess games with this groom, you earn that right - eyeballs and all. Now, let’s talk about the groom. Many of you know Greg as a brilliant man with an uncanny ability to recall every line of Star Trek while simultaneously solving Fermat’s last theorem on cocktail napkins. What you might not know is that Greg is also the only human brave—or crazy—enough to teach me, a semi-aquatic alien with lobster DNA, how to waltz. It did not end well for his shoes. We first met during Operation Cosmic Clam Bake. Greg was tasked with analysing my interstellar propulsion system, while I was attempting to understand why humans insist on wearing neckties when they lack mandibles to protect. Let me tell you, we bonded faster than two subatomic particles in a hyper-quantum collider. He didn’t just see me as a shellfish-descendant alien; he saw me as a friend. And for that, Greg, I will forever cherish you - though not in a way that would make your lovely bride jealous. Ah, the bride - Melissa. Melissa, you’re radiant, stylish, and more dazzling than the bioluminescence of my great aunt Velma during a full Europa moon. Greg is truly lucky to have you, though I must admit, when I heard Greg was marrying someone trendy, I thought for sure she’d have gills. But alas, you’re human through and through - a testament to his excellent taste in Earth-bound partners. Now, I must address the elephant - or should I say squid - in the room. Many of you here are involved in top-secret programs, so discretion is of utmost importance. Let us not whisper about the groom’s role in decoding faster-than-light travel or my unfortunate incident with the coffee machine that resulted in the Pentagon banning cephalopods from kitchen areas. We are here to celebrate love, not classified files. So, here’s to Greg and Melissa: may your lives together be filled with happiness, laughter, and the occasional interstellar jaunt - preferably aboard a ship with decent shellfish accommodations. Greg, you’ve taught me that love is the greatest adventure of all - even better than defeating a rogue AI with nothing but a can opener and a toaster. Melissa, thank you for making Greg the happiest human on Earth - and possibly in the known universe." Raise your glasses (or tentacles, as applicable), and let’s toast to a love so strong it transcends galaxies. To Greg and Melissa!