Being a movie star is hard work. Waking up every morning to hundreds of fans outside your door waving their tentacles in your face sounds great, but it’s actually pretty stressful. At least I have my gorgeous, blue-skin wife to keep me going. I am so lucky to wake up next to her every morning.  

“Good morning, beautiful” I tell her.

She parts her luscious lips only to say “BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP”

Shit. I jolt awake, and it takes me a blissful nano second before I realize that I am not a blue-skin movie star, but just an out-of-place, orange, slimy alien who wakes up alone every morning. My orange skin disgusts me. It didn’t bother me when I still lived on planet Kumax where everyone was orange. But, that soon changed when Kumax imploded and burst into a flurry of snowflakes and I took refuge on planet Itro, where there isn’t an orange alien in sight. Instead, everyone bares a silky blue complexion. What I wouldn’t give to be blue like the sunset instead of being as orange as the ocean. But there’s no time to drown in my sorrows now, it’s time to get to work.

I turn on my radio and am greeted with “OoMuLiEtA qUaDz ShEiLlL sWaWeB iImEo”. I bet you don’t understand that. Well, neither do I. Just my luck that the people of Itro speak in a tongue that is completely indecipherable to any foreigner. I think they did that on purpose. Slowly I get out of my creaky bed and fix myself a bowl of blueveggies. Maybe if I eat enough their color will start to change mine.

The morning commute to work is always the worst part of my day. You have no idea how hard I try to blend in, to play it cool. But it’s impossible. Even if I wear clothes that completely cover my orange skin, I’m instantly identified as an outsider because of my slime. I wear four pairs of socks on top of each other but nothing stops the slime trail from appearing behind me. It’s impossible to describe the feeling of the eyes that bore into my flesh as I walk down the street. It’s impossible to explain the pang in my stomach when aliens swiftly cross the street or grab their child’s hand because “Kumax aliens are dangerous”. I have never done anything to hurt them. I have never done anything that warrants this kind of hatred and rejection from society. But I just keep my eye down and walk straight to my destination. This particular morning, as I walk past a newsstand, I spot the headline “Kumax Alien Banished To Deep Space Because We Don’t Like Him”. That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a Kumax Alien in the newspaper. Great. He looks so angry. I’m angry too but I’d never show it because I know I’d be banished in a second. Kumax aliens are guilty before they’ve even committed a crime.

I remember my first day working in Itro; I got a job flipping zamburgers and I thought it would be the best day of my life. I was so proud of myself and felt like I was starting my new life on the right tentacle. I fried up my first zamburger perfectly and served it to the customer, smiling wide. She looked like she was about to throw up as she pushed her plate across the table back to me.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

She didn’t need to say anything for me to know that she wasn’t going to eat anything that someone like me made. She walked away from her table without looking back, careful to step over my slime trail. I was asked not to come back to work the next day.

I stand at the newsstand for just a minute before I’m bombarded by the sharp tone of an Itro alien.

“ReKhLp FrEEEeeE YuRdYy KUMAX!” He shouts at me with his eye narrowed. I can’t understand his words but I know his goal is to cause me pain.

“I’m sorry” I say as I shuffle away.

I can hear the memory of my sister saying “Why are you apologizing? Why are you letting him win?” I wish I knew why. Maybe it's because I know it’ll all be over soon. I won’t let them make me feel inferior any longer. I’ve endured their criticism long enough. The hatred that the Itro people have showered on me and my people deserves eternal suffering. I don’t think you understand what I mean when I say that I am angry. I mean that there’s a fire in my tentacles boiling the goo in my abdomen and releasing smoke through all 25 of my ears. This pot has boiled for too long and the pressure is building up. Tonight’s the night I shall release my virus into the atmosphere. I have created a superbug that will attack every Itro alien through their pores and make them feel the fire that I do. But they won’t survive. Too bad they don’t have a layer of revolting, abominable, vile slime to protect them.