The Martians Are Here, and it is Glorious
Rejoice, for our miserable time on this whirling flesh orb comes to a close. On September 30th, at 5:28 AM, they came down from the sky in a mound-shaped craft onto the roof of the Integrative Learning Center, buzzing with colors unseen, and demanding that we acquiesce to their simple demands. “Take us to the leaders below.” Leaders below? The Mole-People, with their tunnels criss-crossing the world? The lizard people of the Hollow Earth, controlling our finances and Hollywood movies? The nice lady who helps this reporter print things in the basement of the DuBois library? Australians? Many questions remain unanswered at this time.
They are tall and lanky, towering over our pathetic hominid frames. Their glorious brains bulge from their heads, exposing their cranial superiority with every stride. They remind this reporter of a bendy straw, if a straw reminded you of your feeble, human body and mind. Maybe they will accept this reporter into their society, as an equal hopefully, but he will accept anything at this point.
Serr-vo, a Martian automaton propelling itself forward with a pair of metallic wheels, claimed to be a liaison for the first encounter. According to itself, it was developed specially for this purpose, and this reporter finds it quite the charming fellow, knowing several dialects of Gaelic and how to tie a slipknot. This reporter doesn’t know how what a slipknot is, or what Gaelic sounds like, but he is willing to accept his inferiority. However, Serr-vo was totally inept at its stated purpose.
This reporter could not speak to the Martians directly. Not only were they unresponsive to questions, any attempt to approach them resulted in Serr-vo wheeling itself between us and accidentally falling over, requesting assistance to be placed upright. The Martians were preoccupied scooping and inspecting hand(?)fuls of grass. Perhaps they’d speak to this reporter’s Residential Assistants at a later date if they are still seeking a reputable authority figure. In the meantime, this reporter needs to go into town and pick up some supplies for a welcome banner. This is the Purple Hermit signing off.
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See Also
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Profile: The Student Farm's Newest Caretaker
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We Are Not Kings After All
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The Fall of The Former Martian Ambassador
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