The Little Martian gives out a little hrphmp of frustration and scratches his head as he eyes his cracked Samsung.
“You should really buy a new phone, you know,” I tell him, unhelpfully.
The Little Martian is too lost in thought to snap back at me, I grow worried as his tea cools beside him.
“Why are you drinking tea LM? It's for the idiots who haven't discovered coffee yet. “
The Martian laughs weakly, a globular tear forming on the base of his left eye.
“Homesick again?” I ask him gently.
“Worse.”
“Worse?”
“Lovesick.”
I roll my eyes as the Little Martian lays a dramatic hand across his ivy forehead.
“There is this other martian…” he begins, and I brace myself for a strange story as the Little Martian dons his beret and launches into another one of his interpretative dance pieces.
"Twas once a Martian
Short and bright
Full of laughter
Wisdom,
Vodka and Sprite!
A traveller,
And a poet
The martian knew
The secrets to the oceans
Of kazooroo
But ask the Martian
The mysteries of the heart
And he’d stare back at you
Blank, and fart.
The martian felt his first shimmer
On a night in April
The asteroids wept with joy
for this little green martian- boy.
4 eyes, two heads and
A tail of buzzing fire
The Martian met
the glorious
Estella Squire !
Warm and comfortable,
Strong and bright.
This other Martian felt
So ducking right!
Alas the Little Martian
That you call friend
Is stupid when he
goes round the bend
And on a night in June
He danced a silly tune
drinking too much
In a petty swell.
One Glutzon Sparkle
Is enough to make any Martian
sway and smile funny
And by number eighteen
LM didn't know his ass
from his tummy
The Martian flirted ~
danced, and skirted
Till he found himself
smooching Snizzlong
The pretty blonde
From stars yonder.
Alas! Estella and Snizzlong
Were buddies from the crib
And the Little Martian
Almost shat his bib.
Buddy code is a big deal you see,
even beyond Neptunian seas.
Now the moons grow fat
And the days grow long
But Estella won't return
The poor Martians call!"
The Martian ends his soliloquy with a flourish and knocks back a cup of milky white tea.
“This tastes like ass!”
“You're the ass!” I tell him. “Why would you cheat on poor Estella?”
“I didn't cheat! We weren't even together!” The Martian squeals.
“Classic duck-boy”
“Duck-martian” he corrects and I roll my eyes at him.
“ But that's beside the point,” he continues to defend himself. “I didn't know what I was doing…those Glutzon Sparkles can really knock you out you know.”
I am about to launch into a moralistic lashing of his drunken infidelity but catch myself.
The Little Martian and I are like shattered mirrors, flawed reflections of each other , images of myself that I 'd rather not see at times.
“So, you're pleading an unsound mind, in this court of love?” I ask him.
“Who said anything about love!” He turns pink.
I roll my eyes, at these young Martians and their commitment issues.
“What would you do?” The Martian asks me, his eyes big and shiny and silly.
"I'd blog about it."
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