Dudes, you got 'bout 12 days 'fore these Martian cats are gonna come here and whip your sorry asses. You ain't got doodly-poodly that's gonna stop 'em, neither. I've seen those cats in a vision and man, lemme tell you, they eat 'tomic bombs for breakfast -- and that's literal, man, not some blow-it-out exageration, ya know? These cats give new meanin' to the word "mean mother." They are baaaaaaaaaad, man, ya know? Now, if I were you, I'd be practicin' being nice to 'em, saying things like, "Here, O Mighty One, I know you're hungry, so take Spaw" and stuff like that while you're on your knees.

But then agin, I ain't you. So you cats just fiddle while Rome burns, ya know?