(A short story of two little green Martians, Krunoslav Gernhard, Vijesnik RS Magazine, 1983)

Two little green Martians are pacing by the highway. Endless desert spreads all around in outraging heat. From time to time, some lonely driver runs near them, not to give them a second look. One of the Martians is silently confused, and another is kicking cans and little flints on the road, angry as hell, and changing color of his skin like a chameleon.

“You and your ideas! Phew!”

First continuously keeps his mouth shut. Only from time to time weakly blinks with all six pairs of his large insectoid eyes.

“Whaddahell forced me to come with you in a first place?”, the second says in very nervous tone. Then turns his head blamefully to the first. “Genius wants a doctorate on Institute for Psychology of Intelligent Species! And for his doctoral work chooses nothing but General kleptomania!”

“I was very good at that”, the first tries to defend. “And according to the available data, there are many ill subjects right here, on Earth.”

“And when you located one, beamed him immediately onto the ship and drove us down here into the Death Valley, as Earthlings say…”

“I counted that nobody will bother us here in our examinations!”

“You counted too good! We’re in real trouble now. Alone, in the middle of wasteland, on foreign planet, without any means to turn us back home. Great!” He keeps kicking tin with fester look in his twelve eyes.

“Don’t look me like that!”, squeaks the first. “How could I suppose that this maniac will steal our flying saucer?!”