"Something's gone wrong with all of them," said Huber, eager to pour
out his overburdened heart. "They act like they just don't want to
work. Turning out plain junk on the assembly line. Even the Accuracy
Control boys are letting down on the job, and they're supposed to be
cracker-jacks! In fact, the only guys that are doing any kind of job
are the Martians. I hired myself fifteen more today. But that's only
gonna stir up _more_ fuss...."
"I hate them," said Diana, sipping slowly and looking down into her
glass moodily. "Ugly, slippery things. Ugh!"
"What?" said Huber blankly.
"Your Martian friends. Taking away good jobs from Earth people. Never
buying anything. And those awful arms! If you ask me, we ought to send
them right back where they--"
"You don't know them!" he interrupted loudly. "They're nice, quiet
folks. They work hard and they don't give you a hard time. They're ten
times as efficient as some of the bums in--"
"All right, all right! You don't have to shout at me." Diana stood
up and gulped the rest of her drink down. Then she went over to the
phonograph.
"Are you going to play that song again?" asked Huber.
"Do you mind?" she said sarcastically. "I happen to like it."
Huber said something under his breath and returned to his paper. But
when the record started, he put it down and just listened as the
strange, haunting Martian melody filled the room.
* * * * *
BLINKER: Then the Martian says, "For Pete's sake! Why can't
you clean up this filthy cave sometimes?"
STRAIGHT MAN: So what did his wife say?
BLINKER: So his wife says, "What do you expect? I've only got
three hands!"
(LAUGHTER)
STRAIGHT MAN: Well, tell me, Blinker--what else did you do on
your trip to Mars? Did you meet any--what's wrong?
BLINKER: Nothing's wrong. Just don't step in front of the
camera, that's all.
STRAIGHT MAN: Hah, hah. Sorry, old man. Er--tell me, what else
did you do on--
BLINKER: Now for Chrissakes, I told you to get out of the
way! What're you trying to do? Hog the show?
DIRECTOR: (OFF CAMERA) Psst! Blinker! What are you
doing? We're on the air!
BLINKER: I don't care if we're on the air ---- air! I won't be
pushed around!
STRAIGHT MAN: You won't, huh? Okay, you fat tub of lard! I've
had enough of your--
DIRECTOR: Blinker! Adams!