Doing what exactly this time? Why delivering Kardashev Co. Pizzas of course! I despise my job. What are these? Are these the pizzas I am to deliver? They appear to be more hallucinogenic drugs than anything. Then again, I am not one to question the tastes of Martians. I certainly hope that they are sending me into the actual Martian city and not the goddamned sewer. Ah, my first customer. But how in the world am I supposed to enter this sort of thing? Are these vents? Where is the doorbell? I suppose a knock should suffice. What, nothing? Damn Martians and their prank calls. This er, door? Well, entrance, looks rather inviting. Although I wonder how in the world those vents were able to minimize themselves into small green squares. What sort of Martian technology is this. Customers! Anything? Puns? Martian offerings? You two are quite silent. Mind if I simply a-Ah, ack, er, what happened to you, Green? Oh god, I hope I did not kill you, Red? Red? Red, speak to me! Ah, yes, you two do not speak. Well it appears you two antisocial denizens appear to think of my as some sort of alien so I shall leave. Myself, an alien, when I am clearly not from your home planet? Hah! Preposterous. What? Oh dear, ah, this is a problem. The pizzas will be cold by the time I get out of here.
Well, this is certainly a problem. What to do, what to do. That odd green martian looks quite suspiciously like an infected goomba. Perhaps I may earn some sort of money before I die here. And it shall be clearly justified as I am an ignorant human and therefore can slay any creature without reprecussion! Huzzah! At this rate I am quite sure that the Martians shall be extinct. Another hour in that godforsaken room and I surely would have come up with some sort of bout of dementia. I suppose I must descend further. I never enjoyed pizza in the first place. Dear god all of these hallways appear the exact same. It is as if this is the Martian equivalent of Levittown. I have had bad luck with those strange door mechanisms. For all I must know one of them may destroy my being if I keep venturing into those rooms as if I were a blind chicken. What is this supposed to be, the Martian Power Plant? No problem! Despite my horrible luck with Martian technology so far I am clearly able to scale this contraption! Now, a quick jump- There we g-ah wait no I believe I am too close to the elect- DEAR ASIMOV MY BACKSIDE- Ack, my head. Did I perish down there? Goddamn Martians. Er, w-what? What is this? Where did the power plant go? Why am I not underground anymore? Why is someone playing the repeat of the same free jazz song repeatedly until I go mad?
