A rebel alien lives in your closet and helps you rule the world but things take a bad turn .

`` Hey, Martian, come over here.'' 
 
 My closet door opened and a green hand pulled out an overweight, legless body. `` I am not,'' said the Martian for the 3rd time this hour, `` from Mars. I am simply not from *your* planet.'' 
 
 `` Yeah yeah, whatever you say, just get over here.'' 
 
 The device is finally fixed. The weapon used to destroy this alien's home planet, likely Mars, came with the ugly guy to my doorstep. I took a paintbrush and wrote on the gun: 
 
 **In memory of Mars** 
 
 `` Hey,'' the Martian leaned in, `` what does that say?'' 
 
 I smiled at him, causing him to flinch. I keep forgetting that smiling on Mars is an aggressive gesture, showing off the teeth to an enemy. I ended the smile quickly. `` Just a remembrance to your people.'' 
 
 `` You do n't even know my peo...'' the Martian cut off. `` Whatever, with this, we can rule your planet! Just threaten destruction.'' 
 
 `` But what if they call me out on it?'' This is the problem with making a threat that includes your own life as well as others. The Martian gave me a look that I knew meant I had to do what I had to do. 
 
 `` Well, how do I turn it on, anyway?'' The Martian leaned over and pointed to a red button. I wanted to test it out, so I pressed it. 
 
 `` Crap.'' 
 

