Dr. Pierce McWiggle scratched a writhing tenticle across his brow and tasted some of the charred honeydew melon.

"Interesting." 

Honeydew melon does not grow on this planet, though several varieties of vegetable and one animal are somewhat similar.  None of them travel at very high velocities, and few get charred on their own.

"Fruit may be extraterrestrial in orgin."  He jotted down with a serpentine finger a few more notes, and then got to work.

Dr. McWiggle consumed the entire Corpus Delicti with gusto and vinegar, and carefully filed away the report.

  

 

Little spherical bits of frozen vomit drifted aimlessly through space, clinked off a passing asteroid, and smashed into the atmosphere of a large pink planet.  The portions of scotch burst into flame, but the honeydew melon survived the journey, making landfall in several charred chunks.

The medical examiner dusted off his tenticles, and scribbled on a chart.

"Cause of death appears to be high-velocity impact of charred fruit of some sort, smashing the skull into itty bitty pieces."

Not wanting to fill his airsick bag yet again, Race Lardjaugh unrolled the window to his Xtireme fighter ship and vomited explosively out into the vaccum of space, the moist chunks of freezedried honeydew melon embraced in little orbs of bile and scotch got caught in the ships gravity well and began a revolting orbit around it.

Race rolled his window back up, and wiped his mouth.  

"Burp"