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  • Newton Andersson

Marauders on Mars

Right now, I'm running from aliens on Mars.

Now, you might be wondering, “Why on earth are you running from aliens?” Well, let me bring you up to date.

It all started with a spaceship. We were going to be the first people on Mars. I could barely contain my excitement. My team and I jumped out of our spaceship as soon as we landed on the planet's rusty red surface. We set up a small camp which consisted of a few cabins, a large tank for self-defense, and storage for necessities such as food and communication equipment. The trip was long, and so as soon as we sent out a probe out to explore the area, we went to bed.

I woke to the sound of a dust devil. Martian storms happen very often and can reach up to 60 miles per hour. I sat up to greet my cabin mates but they weren't there! I hastily looked around and not a soul was to be seen. Then there was a knock on the door. I thought they were playing a prank on me, so I grinned and walked over to the door calmly, grasping the handle and pulling the door open.

On the other side was...a little green head!

I screamed and bolted to my bed, fumbling for my taser. The head looked around, hopped with its chin, and then scampered to my bed where it proceeded to devour the snacks on my bedside table. After I had mustered up enough courage, I wrenched a bag of Doritos from its crazily chomping mouth. The alien stuck like glue to the bag, and was lifted into the air as I yanked. I looked at my pack of chips with a green, chubby head stuck to it pulled harder.

As I successfully ripped the bag from the alien's mouth, it uttered one word: “Doritos.”

I stared at it. “Doritos,” it repeated, sounding more impatient. I stood my ground and held the bag of chips firmly with one hand, keeping it away from the little green head.

Suddenly, a dozen more aliens appeared around my bed. Then more. And more. Soon, the floor was covered with chubby little green heads shouting, "Doritos! Doritos!" over and over.

Their patience was withering fast. So I did the only logical thing I could do. Run.

I leaped off the bed and ran, still clutching my bag of chips. The heads followed viciously. I ran out of the cabin, and across the dusty plains.

I ran across rocks and around craters.

I ran until my legs felt dead. Then I ran some more.

I kept running until I smashed into a large rock, the metal on my suit crunching violently on impact.

I looked up and saw that I reached the foot of an active volcano, spurting hot ash and rocks into the air. I turned and started running towards the pursuing heads, hurling my bag of chips at them like a boomerang. The heads were confused, but they ran back with me, trying to catch all the chips.

We ran like the wind and made it back to cabin. I realized the heads were tired, as they were panting and rolling sideways for some reason. I let them to stay in my cabin, where we rested as we waited for the adrenaline rush to wear off.

I crept to my bed and drifted off to sleep, where I had a preposterously weird dream.

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