Q: Dear Dr. Neferbath: I have this annoying rash that I've had ever since the plasma console blew up and spewed that green glowing stuff on my torso. What is this and how can I get rid of it? It's really starting to ITCH! ~~ Isobel the Itchy

A: Just watching you is setting Dr. Neferbath into Sympathy Hives. Fortunately, he's not about to turn green, just yet.

The green color isn't bad in itself, and it does mean you will never get lost in the dark again. However, the itching can drive a good woman (or man) insane.

Suggestions: 1) Buy a swimming pool and fill it with calamine lotion. Swim in it. 2) Attempt a body transplant, skin deep. 3) Wear your itch in the spirit of the old medieval hair cloth once worn by the monks. 4) Find a red-filled plasma screen, have it blow up, and let the new plasma nullify the first.

Q: Dear Dr. Neferbath: I've a rather unique problem, you'll see. I'm a life form that needs to erupt from the internal gastric system of humans in order to survive. I eat my way out from within. Is there any way to convince the friends of my human hosts that to deny me the opportunity to feed and reproduce this way is to send my species into extinction? ~~ The Alien

A: Dr. Neferbath wonders what you Aliens did before Sigourney Weaver and her band of humans came along. What did you eat then? Did you yourselves drive some other hapless sentiency into oblivion?

The doctor, however, does sit (at a distance) to consider your plight. You seem to lack stealth and finesse, going more for the dark, murky, and grusome eruptions from the bodies of your, er, hosts. Now, to get them to like it, you set up spas, ask them to pay large amounts of money, and bore them to tears through seminars aimed at letting the humans confront their Inner Alien. By the time they go through such a weekend retreat, they'll be numb to the idea that their own personal Inner Alien is already in place, literally.

Q: Dear Dr. Neferbath: My problem: In a word, indigestion, or is it allergy? We came to this planet for a feast, and my compatriots are all having a fine time swallowing up couch potatoes as they indulge in television or the computer monitor. How would I know if I am suffering from a sensitive stomach, or from a regretful allergic attack? ~~ Triffidus Celestus

A: Dr. Neferbath begins to examine you, and about twenty minutes into the procedure realizes that, due to the green chorophyll, that you are really a plant. No -- not that type of plant! The type with green leafy fronds waving languidly in the breeze, teeth so very retracted.

To determine if this is, or is not, an allergic response, the kindly Doctor pulls out his tricorder and looks at it. Phah, need to be in closer! Oops, no Plant Kingdom Chip, so he will need to wing it.

His guess is that the reaction is a serious one, and that you have a few choices. If you consent to a mowing, you won't need to eat the foods to which you are allergic, as there won't be that much of you left. If this is unacceptable, take a good look at the type of human you've been chosing. Couch potatoes quite frequently have other unwholesome attitudes, and may themselves feed as poorly on foods as does your very own Dr. Neferbath. If you are in search of healthier, less unpalatable, but still slow-moving humans, you may wish to take up the eating of meditation guides and yoga masters. Typically, the food they eat should agree much better with your sensitive triffoid digestion than beernuts and salsa.