The Martians looked like us except they had no necks and no finger or toe nails. Their leader was a giant of a Martian with the name, Dooma. They wore slacks and sport jackets which Fry had bought for them. They seemed pleasant enough. I got some sleep and woke that afternoon. Dooma, Fry, and myself sat in the front room and talked over the story we were to do. "We can't trust anyone," Fry said, "so you and I will play the earthlings in it. We'll land on Mars and discover life on the planet. Dooma and his crew will play the Martians. Real type casting." "What about sets?" I asked. "Plenty of background on Mars," Dooma said. "What?" I exploded. "Sure," Fry said. "We'll go to Mars and shoot most of the picture there. Has anyone ever done that before?" "Sure," Dooma said. "I mean anyone on earth," Fry said. "I don't like it," I said. "We'll bring you back," Dooma said. "I still don't like it." "And we'll do that nude scene," Fry said. "We'll have a couple of Martian girls taking a bath nude." "Oh, no," Dooma said. "That's out." "But why?" Fry wanted to know. "The Martian Censors. They won't go for it." I grinned. "There too?" "But I want to film life in the raw," Fry said. Dooma shook his head. "Out of the question." "We'll do it my way," Fry snarled, "or we won't do it at all." Dooma stood up. "Well if that's the way you feel about--" "Now wait a minute," I said. "Hold on. David, we've got a great thing here. Don't mess it up." "I'm the director," Fry screamed. "Nobody is going to tell me my business." "Is everybody in Hollywood like him?" Dooma asked me. "Some of them are worse." "I realize we made a grave mistake." "I made the mistake of taking you into my home," Fry shouted. "I treated you like human beings. And this is the thanks I get." "I won't hear another word." Dooma turned and marched out. "Now see what you've done?" I was as mad as a wet hen. "What have I done? All I wanted to do was make a great picture." "You insulted him. Why, he's liable to go back to Mars and talk them into invading us." "That idiot. What does he know about making pictures?" Activity brought me to the window. I looked out and saw the Martians putting their ship together. Fry came up behind me. The ship blasted off and the Martians went back home. "They were hammy actors anyway," Fry rationalized.