My Stepmother Is an Alien

[Celeste consults with the alien council]

Celeste Martin: The subject says he will be unable to think about science unless he marries me.

Council Chief: Well, marry him.

Celeste Martin: But we don't know what "marry" is.

Council Chief: One moment.

[the second council member takes a book. He and the council chief leaf through it until they find the page about marriage]

Council Chief: Ah, yes. The Monchine Forty says marriage is this: he goes off to fight the Turks, and you put on a lock.

[Celeste is confused]

Second in Command: No, no, no.

[they leaf more pages]

Council Chief: Oh, yes, yes. Wrong century. Eh... marriage is this: you cook and clean and bring him martinis.

Second in Command: No, no!

Council Chief: Wrong again? Ridiculous...

[they leaf more pages]

Council Chief: Yes. Wrong decade. Too old-fashioned. Ah, here we are, yes. The modern marriage: there are no rules or responsibilities, but if he does something wrong, you can set him on fire while he sleeps and go on a talk show, where everyone will forgive you and love you. There is only one drawback: you will have to have more sex.

Celeste Martin: [excitedly] I'll do it!