Throughout the stars and planets of the universe, wherever intelligent beings exist and move throughout their alien civilizations and cultures, there is one constant that we know must be shared by all life. Whether silicon-based or chlorophyll-bearing plant life forms, whether gelatinous deep sea blobs or hairy multi-tentacled horrors, organized life in the cosmos shares one aspect, and that is and can only be... stupid comics.

Oh, and greed. Greed is also a universal constant. Just look at these terrific horrifying space aliens here! They positively reek of greed. I love these Pete Tumlinson-drawn one-eyed freaks. Once again we're forced to confront a comic that is inarguably stupid, yet also kind of awesome. It's this kind of puzzling quandary that we here at Stupid Comics love to force ourselves into, just as the scientists at the US Government Laboratory in Montana force themselves to challenge the forces of nature to discover what metals other planets have.

Remember America wants these precious metals that may exist on Mars, merely to safeguard them and prevent havoc among the world's monetary supply. That's all. We don't want any of that Martian gold or uranium or whatever for ourselves. No way. Sure, America is the country that had at least three Gold Rushes where everybody went crazy for gold, but we guarantee that isn't going to happen again. We swear!

But one of these science dudes isn't down with the "safeguard wealth and don't spend it like a crazy fool" plan, who wants to get his hands on precious outer space metals and use that wealth to move out of his bachelor hut and into maybe a bachelor pad. A step up.

Have you ever been in this situation, where you lie around smoking some kind of cigarette and then voices come to you telling you to listen to their words, Earthling? And what exactly was in those cigarettes, anyway? But let's pause and continue this story after a word from our sponsor.

This ad was in many a comic book I read as a kid and I still wonder, was Mrs. Penny Fisher a real person? Did she have a penny vault somewhere down in Encino filled with so many pennies that she was selling them by the pound? And back then, did many kids realize that it took about 145 pennies to make up a pound, and so she was clearing $8.50 profit selling pennies? I'm going to write an angry letter to somebody about this, after I buy a Humble Pie T-shirt and find out how to hypnotize any TV set.

Well, it looks like telepathic Martians are going to make Bardo's dream of interplanetary wealth come true. Or maybe he's just really, really high.

Remember, this story takes place before everybody knew what orifices aliens were most likely to be interested in.

These ESP aliens have Bardo shelling out cash for real estate AND risking all kinds of Federal time by stealing US government scientific equipment. This had better pay off, Martians!

I was going to be a scientist myself, but it's comics like this that convinced me the science field is nothing but wearing big smocks, fastening giant pieces of metal together, and letting voices from space tell you what to do all the time. Nuts to that!

Now really, surely Bardo isn't so stupid as to write down everything he's been doing while under mental control of the Martians! That would be silly.

Sure, that mountain of Martian gold will make you immensely wealthy, for about fifteen minutes, and then suddenly the price of gold plummets because you've just introduced vast new amounts of it into the market. Maybe those boring old guys and their talk of "keeping the world's monetary exchange from going haywire" were onto something. But you don't care what we say, go on, do it, whatever. MY money's in the stock market, bet they don't have THAT on Mars.

And here they are, the stars of our show, our creepy tentacled one-eyed befanged Martians, ready to conquer the Earth and make us all their slaves, here, here's some copy paper boxes we spray-painted to look like gold, sucker.

Will Bardo teleport all of the gold on Mars to Earth before Earth's gold-detecting machine can detect it? I hope not, it'd be a shame if all that funding went to waste and these metal detectorists had to back to wandering around looking for lost keys and Civil War bullets.

GREAT SCOTT! Now I realize the best way to prank my co-workers is to take a few days off and leave a diary lying around that says I'm off in a little valley building a machine under mental command of beings from another planet! They'll drop whatever they're doing and rush right out. Hilarious!

So here's where this story comes to a screeching halt as these 'scientists' display vast Stupid Comics ignorance. First off, how do they know Martians don't live for thousands of years? And secondly, telepathy doesn't exist, so any supposition they make about what constitutes telepathy is, as we call it, baloney. And thirdly, even if telepathy was like light waves, well, light travels from Mars to Earth at the normal speed light travels anywhere, which means it would take - depending on where Mars is in relation to Earth - between four and 24 minutes, not "thousands of years." WAKE UP YOU SCIENTIST'S.

Why would gold on Mars be a "seething mass of liquid?" Have they mixed up the temperature of Mars with the temperature of Venus (which is still not hot enough to melt gold)? Do they think that Mars was really hot thousands of years ago? Or do they think that a solid metal on colder Mars would become liquid on warmer Earth? Is the writer so desperate for a twist ending that he is grasping at whatever half-remembered factoid he can dredge out of his confused memory? Maybe that last one.

And there we have it, the Martian plan for world conquest comes to an ignominious end, because it got buried under tons of molten gold, and also because those Martians have been dead for thousands of years, according to the in-story logic. We can take heart knowing that the worldwide price of gold just got kneecapped and now you can buy all the gold you want for pennies. Pennies that Mrs. Penny Fisher will be happy to sell you at a tremendous markup. So long, Martians! Keep 'em fangin'!

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