this is doom in a borrowed suit

this is what Sammi Shredd had to say about me:
"Keep me out of sunlight. Never get me wet. Never, ever, feed me after midnight. These were the sacrosanct commandments that had been carelessly fractured this airless shunted morning. I was waterlogged with Tequila sloshing around like a sea cucumber and suffocating myself with an assembly line of cigarettes like a belt-fed machine gun long into the night, scrambling to get back to my coffin as the horizon drained from black to that hounding aluminum blue. I had spun a cocoon of mucous and hemoglobin in my sleep that sealed the openings to my skull and cemented me into position. My skin was hardening and metamorphing into something wretched and old, reverting to thick primitive hide. Not breathing, not dreaming, my vital signs undetectable to the most sensitive apparatus. A stone in the path. Camouflaged in natural mimicry. Suspended. Hours later the sun discovered my curtain of shadows and smashed it in. The light and heat burned away layered shells of crust and secretions, triggered the chain of proteins that engaged the bellows and furnaces housed within me, and I heaved to life billowing carbon-rich smoke and toxic chemicals into the air. I jimmied open the lids on my eyes with the edge of a credit card. Visibility was low. I hooked over the side of the skuttle and filth that bore me up and crushed loose the built up silt caked through my lines; I vomited up a slick silk tent wriggling with caterpillars onto the floor. They were fat and warm and split open when they hit, greasing the wood. A firm fistful of fingers took me by the collarbone and hoisted me up from the wreckage of my revelry, and shook me into the daylight with admonitions and ferocity. What strange light bulb is this, that walks like a man?-- I thought, what curiously hairless bespectacled abomination would dare interlope the ancient ritual of awakening?-- A head smooth and round as a mortar shell, hung thickly with a burnt crimson tangle of beard? I rang my knuckles across his teeth and was soon crooked against the concrete, boots pressed to my ear. The stranger throttled me once, twice, and with a lurch hauled me again into the smothering warmth of the bartender's womb where shots of healing Tequila were fired into our bellies until we were again murdered back into glorious life. We discussed the arrangements for the thirty horsesoutside. The stranger's name, I learned on an African slave boat in the following rainy season, was Kyle, and he was the black hand at the firing pin who seven years later would betray our kingdom for a handful of emeralds and a cheap whore named Coca Ina."
Your arch-nemesis is: Alien

Why? Because you spread a rumor about them and their dog
The winner will be... You will join forces to conquer good