Dear Citizen Moshanthingliodorlu Dazkoranmar:
I always appreciate a cover letter that begins with begging. It warms my heart and makes me beneficently inclined toward the submitted work, nearly as much as does your subsequent threats to my entire race pending our rejection.
Though I must say that I'm not at all sure that changing the water on Earth to blueberry juice would be such a bad idea. Was that threat or bribe?
Yes, Citizen of Planet DARMANC-917, Galaxy 509B, Quadrant II, Ward 181 (Street 53, Unit 419), nothing could please us here at the Journal more than to acknowledge you as our first alien author submission. Such a thrill would no doubt overshadow even the long-anticipated bonuses promised us by our esteemed corporate overlords.
If I had a dollar for every alien we have rejected here at the Journal, I would have that bonus and then some. If I even had two bits for each of the legions of aliens who have sent us stories--works as remarkable as yours, I might add--who have begged and threatened to gain acceptance, why, I would have enough cash for a decent meal. Or a Starbucks latte.
Now to your submitted story. It certainly is a story, and we perceive the alienness of it peering around the words. But, to be blunt, it is a classic trope about world destruction at the hands of an all-powerful AI, and it has--oh my yes--been done before.
As an alien, of course, you wouldn't know this. I recommend to you the science fiction libraries of any number of fans who I am confident would be delighted to host your alien self for as long as it takes to devour their collection. (I mean that metaphorically; look it up.) Perhaps this will give you the necessary perspective for your next story.
Thank you for your submission.
We look forward to the blueberry juice.
Sonia Lyris, ExtraTerrestrial Editor
Journal of Universal Rejection