After the Martians attacked Earth, there was panic and fear. And yes, I burst into a church where some people had gathered to pray and yelled, “Your God won’t save you now!” But it was meant as a call to arms, like Paul Revere.
Soon the Martians began to defeat our Earth forces, as I predicted. But then something happened. The Martians began to get sick and die from our Earth germs. That’s when I sold the Martians the antibiotics. I was harshly criticized, and my pharmacist’s license was suspended.
In my defense, I way over-charged the Martians. Instead of selling them the generic antibiotics, I sold them the expensive name brands. Plus, I didn’t provide any warnings about possible side effects. And guess what else? “No Refills.”
The Martians got better and resumed attacking us. But the Martians are a hardy race. Isn’t it possible that the antibiotics had no effect and that they got better through natural immunity?
Without my pharmacist’s license, I had no choice but to go to work for the Martians. I was given a radio show called “Death to Earthlings.” We were number one in the ratings, except for one week when we got beat by “Robot Repair.”
During the broadcast I would say things like “Puny humans, soon you will be incinerated and your cities destroyed! Your women will be violated, and your children will cry and starve!” Again, in my defense, I didn’t write it. All I did was read it. If I hadn’t read it, they wouldn’t have paid me, or contributed to my 401-K. And anyway, the show didn’t stop the Earth forces from winning.
(Incidentally, many Earth soldiers have since told me they enjoyed my show, especially my interview with Kraxor.)
If I am such a “tool of the Martians,” as the prosecutor says, then why did they leave me behind when they fled in their flying saucers, even though I was pounding on the saucer door, yelling “Let me in! Let me in!”
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have suffered enough. They have taken not only my pharmacist’s license, but my broadcaster’s license and my Martian Medal of Honor. My publisher has demanded I return the advance for my book, Learn to Speak Martian the Easy Way. I lost everything to my Martian wife in the divorce. When she walked out on me, she left a ray gun and a note that said “I think you know what to do with this.”
You might ask yourselves, Why are we spending the time and money to try this innocent man, when the Venusians have invaded? Indeed, the sound of their airships attacking can be heard just outside. In conclusion, before I run out of this courtroom, I will leave you with these final words: “Long Live Venus!”
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