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Your all-weather reporter of Views of a Foreigner has been snooping and sniffing around town and found some remarkable new Washingtonian cooking recipes. Among others, those that Michelle puts on her website for school kids that are widely rejected; recipes that really put your kitchen on fire.

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I was strolling along Pennsylvania Avenue near the White House, stumbling on at least fifteen to twenty police cars with stern-looking policemen staring at me.

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Granted, I look a bit weird with my Martian face, but can I help it? Anyway, my eyes caught little pieces of paper tied to the fence around the White House premises. Wondering what they were, I opened one and it had clear instructions by Michelle for passers-by on how to steam healthy broccoli that former President George H. Bush refused to eat. You remember that when he made that public, some ten hazmat trucks threw tons of broccoli in front of the White House sent by angry farmers.

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That was the main reason why they blocked off the whole space in front of the White House with killer fences as if you are entering a high-security prison. Well, in view of the November 2014 congressional elections Michelle wanted to make good with the farmers and pinched this message on the fence: just drop your garden broccoli in a pan with boiling-hot water and all you have to do is go back to your TV and continue watching your soap until you smell something burning and then it’s ready to serve for dinner later. Now I hear Michelle is being sued for multiple kitchen fires.

But what surprised me more was that the paper went on with clear instructions on how to climb the fence and enter the White House premises.

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Shocked, I showed it to the stern-looking policeman.

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He said he belonged to the Secret Service and that he was not allowed to tell the truth.  Pressing him that I was a foreign reporter from Mars who would send in the Martian army on pre-election day to carry out illegal voting for Republican candidates, he caved and said the instructions meant to encourage reckless pedestrians to jump the fence so that TV would direct attention to the beleaguered inhabitant of the White House to defend his broccoliramacare program.

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He ended by saying, “And this is the truth.”

Walking along in the sun on a typical Indian summer day in Washington D.C., I ran into a grey-haired employee of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), more commonly known as the EDA (Environmental Destruction Agency). A huge oversized building full with oversized people from eating too much broccoli.

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I recognized him because he proudly carried his ID-card on his extensive chest. Presenting him with my Martian press card, he asked me greedily what I wanted to know. He said they were so maligned by the American People that he really wanted to set the record straight. When I told him we had a lot of coal on Mars that we happily used to warm our underground cities, he became very agitated.

“Coal is bad for your health,” he assured me.

“How do you know?”

“It’s causing Carbon Dioxide and will kill you, even on Mars,” he explained.

“But we use it for cooking, heating, electricity and by the way, aren’t you exhaling that stuff?”

“Too much of the same good cannot be good. We recommend people that they hold their breath,” he said, with a straight face. “Inside the EPA building, all employees are required to hold their breath. Those who do it longest get a bonus of one hundred thousand dollars and then get promoted away to the CIA but still stay on the payroll. I know because I am.”

“Gee, what wonderful things taxpayer money can do. Do you know anything of that secret space plane that came back from the sky?”

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“Of course, don’t you know? It was an EPA spy plane to prick holes in the ozone layer to let out the CO2 into the stratosphere and at the same time import radiation from the sun to promote global warming.”

“But I thought you guys were fighting global warming,” I said, astonished.

 “Nobody wants to believe us, so we must find other ways to prove our point.”

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“How smart! Killing two birds with one stone. But with those windmills you are supporting you already kill so many birds that soon you won’t have any left to prove points with.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, convincingly. “We have the United Nations Panel on Climate Change, and they concoct the best lies ever with tax-free money.”

“Yeah, “I said. “We on Mars often wonder how they do that. When we put our laser thermometers through your ozone holes to measure Mother Earth’s temperature, you have not warmed up for the last eighteen years, and actually got colder; your seas have not been rising, and the Antarctic ice has increased. How come this discrepancy?”

“Discrepancy?” he mocked. “Ever heard of computers? You cook-up what you put in and you get out what you want. Who says it isn’t true? Computers are always right. Ask Microsoft or Apple or even Al Gore.”

“But isn’t that falsifying science?” I asked.

“Not if you get paid for it. They have to feed their kids, too.”

“With broccoli, I guess.”

“Our Commander-in-Chief’s standard evening dinner served by his Michelle,” he said, winking his eye, and walked back to his office.

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