by Nick Gisburne
The aliens were drunk and barely dressed
An unexpected diplomatic hitch
And soon they left the meeting, unimpressed
Declaring that our world was crude and kitsch
Disgusted, they prepared to go to war
If only we had understood their ways
An insult we could not have known before
Would haunt us till the end of all our days
The crack of warheads, bursting through the clouds
A shattering apocalypse from space
Delivered death upon the screaming crowds
As Armageddon smashed the human race
A grave mistake condemned us all to die:
The president had worn a purple tie
