My Beautiful Martian

My Beautiful Martian always carried a ball that they would occasionally try to nail to the wall. This seems to be a weird and wonderful exercise, to my grandpa, but not to the Martian, who assumed that the idea was epic. A ball would be the thing that was selected.

My Beautiful Martian craved for a helmet that they would sometimes try to balance on their head. It should have been a funny idea, to me and my wife, but not to the Martian, who had come to the conclusion that the idea was fun. You wouldnt have imagined, a helmet would be the chosen thing.

My Beautiful Martian desperately wanted a can of Tango that they liked to put down their trousers. It might be an astonishing thing to do, to my grandma, but not to the Martian, who feels that the idea was magnificent. Remarkably, a can of Tango is the thing to choose.

My Beautiful Martian desperately craved for a crown that they would often cuddle. It should have been a somewhat surprising suggestion, to everybody you know, but not to the Martian, who considered that the idea was spectacular. A crown being the chosen item.

My Beautiful Martian often carried a bag of poop that they would occasionally try to balance on their head. This seems to be an exciting undertaking, to some, but not to the Martian, who felt that the idea was awe-inspring. Bizarrely, a bag of poop was the thing that was opted for.

My Beautiful Martian desperately needed a pint of cider to demolish. It might be a fairly new approach to life, to me, but not to the Martian, who had decided that it was in fact, entertaining. Who would have thought, a pint of cider would be the item chosen.