
So, Prometheus just came out. Maybe you’re a diehard fan of the Alien franchise and you saw it. Maybe you’re a diehard fan of the Alien franchise and you refused. Maybe you were born well after Alien came out, had no idea Prometheus was affiliated and the only other Ridley Scott movie you’ve seen is the one where Russel Crowe is Braveheart in Rome. It doesn’t matter, either way. Editors Jennifer Wright and Ashley Cardiff are thinking about aliens. Fucking them, marrying them, and killing them, specifically.
Ashley: Why can’t we do Superman? Superman is an alien.
Jennifer: No, he wasn’t.
Ashley: Yes. He was.
Jennifer: No, no, I mean, technically he was, but he was raised here. And was adopted. So he’s more like a dual citizen. It would be like if you knew someone who was adopted from China as a baby and raised entirely in America and you kept bombarding them with questions about their friendship with Chairman Mao.
Ashley: It’s not like that at all! That’s just you being racist. But your point about Superman is very astute and I agree.
Jennifer: You don’t even recognize that Superman is an American, so I think you’re the racist.

HE TOOK OUR JOBS
Ashley: Fine. ET also has dual citizenship: of his home that he phones frequently and also our hearts.
Jennifer: I love ET. But I also love Jabba! And Spock! This is really hard because all of these gentlemen are such strong choices.
Ashley: You’d have to marry ET, right? You could plant a vegetable garden together! In the evening, you could lie with your head in his weird skin sack area and he would feed you Reese’s Pieces with his two long fingers. And then you could gently nibble them and he’d say softly, “Owwww-ch…”
Jennifer: OHHHHHHHHH! He’d be like having a hairless pet cat who talked and was sent from heaven to teach us how to love! The idea of sexing ET is, however, very troubling to me.

"Baby, I'll make your cervix twinkle."
Ashley: He’d actually be a lot like having a hairless pet cat.
Jennifer: Who talked.
Ashley: So… better.
Jennifer: A little bit.
Ashley: As long as your name doesn’t have too many consonants, you’d be fine.
Jennifer: But you can’t fuck a cat.
Ashley: You can’t fuck a Hutt, either. They’re only interested in unspeakable things.
Jennifer: Well, actually, I think the implication was the there were many sex slaves there to tend to his massive, fleshy body. Maybe with back massages and stuff?















