“Oh yeah, we got the cute one, now were going to take out the fat ugly one.” Johnny was almost drunk with exhilaration.
“Honey, I’m going to check on Tess. Are you sure that Johnny should be watching this?”
Mark didn’t feel any particular connection to this alien— the one currently in the line of fire—but, his disgust was so pronounced that he could no longer bear anymore. He was frozen though, and watched mechanically. Within seconds the ship that would deliver the deadly missile snapped into view, and the missile was launched. The fat alien looked around and turned, but could not get out of the way; she and her substation were gone.
“I’ve had enough of this,” said Gramps. He got up, and Mark looked towards him. “Do you want to go?” asked Gramps. Mark nodded, and looked like he might get sick also. “They look jus’ like us. We’re jus’ takin’ out innocent people on another world. I can’t stomach anymore o’ this.”
Mark was in pain, as he walked out of the room with gramps. But his physical pain was not bothering him. His internal pain was what hurt him now. We’re the Martians, he thought. We are those disgusting Martians, and we are going to get what we deserve—just like they did. He walked into the other room with Gramps, and sat down; neither of them spoke.