(Mr. Mark, you remember, is a mystery-shrouded disc jockey in the incredibly small city of Allentown, Pennsylvania who plays screwy music and stops occasionally to say things like...)
Hello gang. In this, the last year before the big alien takeover,. we celebrate our precarious freedom with a federal holiday called, Alien Day. The aliens remind you...human culture is stupid and wrong. All federal holidays will soon be revoked, and changed into the galactic system in which you don't have to work in the first place. First, a horrible global disaster will happen, like worldwide earthquakes, or worldwide rampaging gorillas. Then, alien overlords will reveal themselves, load the human race into immense interstellar ships, and take us away to the Pleiades. The Pleiades, or Seven Sisters, is a star cluster most people will soon be calling home. We say again, you won't have to go to work. Instead of Christmas, a dorky holiday to begin with, you'll celebrate Conquest of Earth Day, and when the seven sister-stars are lined up straight in the sky, all vanquished humans will get free burritos. We say again...there will be burritos. So don't fight the power. Don't fight the Air Force when they try to cover us up. You've got to be kept in the dark, or nosy teenagers will break into our underground base and save the world. And the U.S. Navy reminds you, forget about the Air Force. The Navy has plenty of top-level secrets of shattering importance. Underwater cities, Atlantean power sources, man-fish hybrids that escape and become killing machines...it isn't all about flying saucers of your grandfather's generation. The new U.S. Navy is above top secret. Call your recruiter. Alien overlords remind you, the U.S. Navy is stupid and wrong. All branches of the military will soon be under interdimensional mindlock. Turn against your parents and destroy.
In tonight's searing Mr. Mark drama, you get fired on your own birthday. Tragic human saga. Your job was to subdue the lunatics in the downtown asylum. But you lost your job to a machine--an automatic megabrain robot. Stands to reason the lunatics get loose and run riot down Main Street in Your Town, USA. Many freedom-loving sane types like you wished to flee to some other country, such as Canada. But did you know that Canada is a socialist dictatorship? Best flee southward, to the capitalist snakepit of Mexico. Poverty and disease will be your mistress and your other mistress. Unnamed government agents want you to know, our problems will never be solved without extensive poverty programs to supply medical care, food and shelter to the unrich. Is this big government? Let's ask the megabrain robot back at the ruined asylum. The robot says...FIRED LUNATIC GUARDS WILL BE REHIRED AS COMPANIONS TO THE ELDERLY. YOU'LL LIVE BETWEEN THE WALLS AND HAUNT OLDER FOLKS WITH MADDENING VOICES AND EAR-SPLITTING SCREAMS. MUST HAVE OWN TRANSPORTATION, WILLING TO WORK NIGHTS. IF YOU HAVE RELIGIOUS OBJECTIONS TO WORKING AS AN EVIL SPIRIT, YOU MAY INSTEAD WORK AS A BOOTLICKER FOR A LOCAL ALLENTOWN MILLIONAIRE. SINCE THERE ARE NO LOCAL ALLENTOWN MILLIONAIRES, THIS OFFER IS VOID.
Kids, if you get a present for your birthday, don't forget to take pen in hand and write a thank-you note. If your relative can't read, draw a picture of yourself smiling and enjoying the present. I'm your announcer with a thank-you note of humor, nature's comedy.