One-way ticket to Mars
The Mars One Foundation recently announced plans to colonize Mars. The organization hopes to provide 24 humans with a “oneway ticket” to the Red Planet. So far, they’ve received over 200,000 applications. Here is one of them.
Dear Mars One,
I’m writing to apply for a one-way ticket to Mars, on behalf of my husband, Paul. Obviously, as his wife, it would pain me to say goodbye to him forever. But he is so perfectly qualified for this mission, that I would feel selfish keeping him here on earth. The following are a list of attributes that would make Paul a good addition to your colony.
Excess fat
When Paul and I married 30 years ago, he was 10 pounds overweight. Since then, he’s gained over fifty pounds, all of it pure fat. If there were ever a food scarcity on Mars, Paul’s body would be able to feed off its own fat.
Loudness of breath
Dust storms are common on Mars, and with them comes the danger of getting separated from the group. Paul would be easy to locate during these storms. When he inhales, he makes a nasal “ghhuh” noise and when he exhales he makes a “psshhh” noise. It sort of sounds like he’s snoring, except that he’s wide awake and it’s so much louder than snoring. Sometimes I think that he’s doing it on purpose. I’ll start screaming at him, “Stop, damn it, stop, stop, stop!” But he doesn’t even seem to know he’s doing it.
Puns
Paul loves to make puns. For example, when I ask him to help make the bed, he says, “Make a bed? But we already own one!” This exchange happens every morning. Maybe your colony has a need for puns? I don’t know.
Stench
This is another way to find Paul during storms. His body odor is so strong, sometimes I actually start to laugh out loud, like, “Is this really happening? Is that smell really coming out of a person?”
If there aren’t any one-way tickets left to Mars, I understand. I do hope, though, that you’ll consider Paul for other one-way missions, to the moon, other planets or the sun. Paul won’t do anything I tell him, but if you were to show up in space outfits and say, like, “Come on, let’s go,” maybe he would go with you. I don’t know.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Paul Greenblatt