The Martians

Back in the 1960s, when the excitement of space exploration was still at its peak, a young couple from America were shuttled to Mars. It was a one way trip to colonise the Red Planet and to begin laying the seeds of infrastructure that might allow more settlers to move there in the future. They were a happy-go-lucky couple, content in their own company, passionate about their mission, and quite reconciled to the fact they would never see their home planet, or another person, again. The trip was successful and they formed a modest agricultural homestead, However, with no way to keep in touch, the world promptly forgot about them. Until now.

Using cutting edge probe technology, the BBC successfully made contact with the pioneers and was able to film a documentary on their lives. Living alone for almost 50 years with no outside contact, the couple had naturally undergone significant changes, yet no one could have foreseen what the probe uncovered. Both the man and the woman still sported long tangled manes of hair, they had been hippies in the 60s and, isolated from changing fashion trends, they had remained thus. Their hair had not turned grey, and they had not visibly aged to the extent one might have expected. The woman was by all accounts a midget and her voice was high and squeaky, sounding like she regularly huffed on helium. Other than that, she was the more normal of the two.

The man was another story. Somehow during his sojourn on Mars, he had lost both of his legs. The low gravity on the planet meant that this was not as much of a handicap, and he still enjoyed good mobility. More shockingly, his head had detached from his body, rendering him a living torso. His head was connected to his neck by a long hose, passing vital nutrients and oxygen back and forth. Most amazingly of all, he had not only learned how to play an electric synthesiser type instrument, but his severed head was still able to sing. He cut a horrifying sight, his ghoulish, legless torso perched on a chair whilst his hands played the keys, a haunting, otherwordly tune. Meanwhile, at the end of his winding nutrient hose, his head would sing lustily into the stars, a groaning, guttural refrain.

The documentary then went onto showcase the couple's bizarre sex life. Despite lacking legs, genitalia, and a head, the man had lost none of his libido. His chipmunk voiced wife chirped animatedly about how she would lube herself up in oil and slither and slide over her husband's torso, stimulating him in new and unorthodox ways. The documentary was too much to bear, and I turned it off in disgust. I awoke with a foul, nauseous taste in my mouth, and was queasy for some hours after. Beware the Martians, for they have transcended our mortal ways.