Kettle Fest Part Two

Kettle burst into the room, a sauce pan on his head.
"JAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
"Breathe." James said, firmly, not looking up from his notepad. Kettle inhaled obediently, and finished the word.
"-ames. Stop writing."
"I've got to do it some time. Teaching you stuff like 'cross the road' doesn't mean 'make the cement angry' is trying work."
"No, no, just listen!" said Kettle, the saucepan falling off in his excitement. "That pen is fatal!"
"Been reading again, have you? Look, the expression 'the pen is mightier than the sword' isn't meant to be taken literally-" James stopped, on account of the alien snatching the writing utensil from his hand, throwing it to the floor, and stomping on it repeatedly. James watched a whisp of smoke come up from the splattered ink.
"It was a tracking device." said Kettle, a serious look on his face. "Apparently my visit to Earth hasn't gone unnoticed."
"Where'd it come from?" asked James. "Who could've built it?"
"I dunno." Kettle shrugged. "You don't have a brother who works in the F.B.I., do yah?"
"Will you take something seriously, for once in your life? Don't you know that if any influential humans find you here, they'll probably take you away for testing, or worse, imprisonment?"
"They wouldn't do that!"
"And why not?"
"Because...it would be very inhospitable."
The remains of the pen gave a faint buzz.
"Hang on." said Kettle, examining the mess more carefully. "Oh. Um, nevermind about that whole tracking device...thing. Turns out my Bertzillian chip got on here by mistake."
James made a sound between a sigh of relief and a scoff. "You could've checked first before you made assumptions." he said. "You had me worried some government drones were going to burst in here, and drag you away."
Kettle looked shocked.
"What? What's wrong?" James asked.
"You were worried?" the alien squealed. "About me? But that's so sweet!"
"Shut up, kid." James said, shortly, but not unkindly.