Summer was just starting to sizzle and the sandy beaches were calling, but folks in the small coastal town of Pebble Cove had their beach plans swiftly curtailed. Why? Because they woke up to find their beloved beach vanished into thin air. Gone! Completely! Who was the culprit you ask? Was it thieves seeking a sandy treasure? Far from it, dear readers! It was aliens from the great beyond! Yes, UFOs – no less!

It began with a quiet night, just the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. Around midnight, the slumbering town was shaken out of their collective dream-alley by a noise akin to maybe a hundred sequoia trees being trimmed by chain saws manned by over zealous lumberjacks in the grips of a caffeine high. As windows rattled and dogs bayed, it was brave old Mrs. Smith who dared to peek out her window. And, boy oh boy, did she get an eyeful!

Hovering over their local paradise were three ginormous UFOs casting an eerie, green glow against the night sky. Their bottoms opened like in those alien invasion movies, sucking in sand like there was no tomorrow.

How much sand you may ask? Well, let’s say enough to fill up the Grand Canyon, and then some! Precisely 3 miles of beachfront by dawn, gone! Swallowed up by the ravenous alien beach bandits!

The townsfolk, shocked and bereaved, could do nothing but watch. “It was like my favorite margarita machine had lost its lid and was splurting its contents uncontrollably,” lamented resident beach bum and apparent margarita connoisseur, Barry Hemingway. Barry had planned a luau that night. Needless to say, it ended up more ‘Loo-where?’ rather than Luau!

As the sun rose, sorrow turned to anger. Vacation plans were evaporated faster than water in a popcorn maker. All the sand castles that kiddos had laboriously built, were now probably space sand castles. Rumor has it, the UFOs stole enough sand to create their own Martian Mar-a-Lago.

The local tourist board was distressed. Their prized asset was now playing hide and seek in an extraterrestrial sandbox. How does one attract tourists to a beach that’s not there? The board is now scouring eBay for a suitable quantity of replacement sand.

In the wake of the sand snatching incident, theories abound. Professor Indy Anna Jones of Unknown University wagers that the aliens needed the sand to fulfill an essential requirement. “It’s quite possible”, he opined, “that the aliens needed silica, a major constituent of sand, to construct infra-red proof swimwear, perfect for a sunny day on Venus.”

As outlandish as it might seem, this has created a schism in vacationers. The sand-starved are furious with the interstellar interlopers, but the adventurous are thrilled. “I’d pay top dollar for space sand souvenirs! Imagine my friends’ surprise when I serve cocktails in a Venusian sand cup,” grinned tourist Felicity Trend.

With no real solution, the local authorities have appealed for calm and patience. They are also considering renaming Pebble Cove to Pebble-No Cove to accurately represent the new geographic condition.

Meanwhile, the sand thieves continue to elude capture. There have been sightings and speculations. But as of now, the whereabouts of Pebble Cove’s beach and the unsolicited interstellar visitors remain as elusive as ever. Until then, dear readers of The Secret Informer, keep an eye on your yards. Who knows, you might just wake up to find your flowerbeds making their Pluto debut!

Hold onto your newspapers, Earthlings, because this is news from out of this geosphere! Your Stetsons will be knocked clean off when you hear about this: Top secret, confidential, “need-to-know” cosmic missions are happening as we speak! And the aim? Establishing extraterrestrial frat parties, apparently! No, the Secret Informer hasn’t gone nuts, we’re reporting straight from the horse’s, er, astronaut’s mouth.

Imagine this: Space-suited heroes propelled into the deep and dark expanse of the universe, not for some humdrum stargazing, satellite fixing, or for Moon’s gray rock auditing, but to slap extraterrestrial five, share some cosmic jokes and draw up galactic friendship treaty!

Now, we’ve all seen astronauts like Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin take a spin on the moon while trying to look nonchalant but this is something else. What you don’t know is that ‘moon walks’ are now more like ‘Milky Way bar hopping.’ Our astral explorers are supposedly meeting with green, three-tentacled pals at popular Galactic diner ‘Starpucks’ and swapping space yarns over nebula coffees.

The Secret Informer’s highly reputable, not-at-all-fictional whistle-blower, codename Starman, leaked this perplexing information. Recently trapped in a Mars rover selfie, you’ll recognize him as the one giving the ‘peace’ sign, apparently the latest trend in interplanetary greeting.

So, where’s the evidence for this close encounters of the friendly kind, you ask? The proof is literally written in the stars, folks. Starman provided images of astronauts dancing the ‘Universal Shuffle’, the hottest dance routine in the Andromeda Galaxy, originally made famous by alien pop idol, Zorgg.

But it gets weirder. These space heroes floating in the black infinity are allegedly partaking in alien customs while dining on moon-cheese pizzas and sipping Martian Mai-tais. Reports have even surfaced of high-stakes cosmic poker, where the bet isn’t chips, but galaxies! Who knew our astronauts had such luck… or such real estate?

It seems the Milky Way isn’t merely a mass of stars and cosmic dust, but a hive of interstellar camaraderie and celebration! Dinner hosted in the Venus Mansion, theatrical shows in Saturn’s rings and guided tours of Jupiter’s storms are regular engagements for these astronauts turned diplomats. Not to forget, shopping sprees in star-studded Martian malls, selling the latest line of meteor-inspired fashion.

Weird artifacts have also started to appear in astronauts’ personal locker, like the spiked bat from Pluto made for anti-gravity baseball, and mini colorful models of a UFO from the gift shop near the Orion’s belt. And let’s not even get started with the countless triangular, crop-circle-making keys as souvenirs.

One might wonder: why haven’t we seen these cosmo-friends visiting us? Well, according to Starman, Earth’s climate is a bit too warm for their liking. They prefer the cool, breezy -270 degrees of outer space. Plus, they apparently find our obsession with reality TV quite baffling.

Don’t believe us? Recently, numerous astronauts were overheard nonchalantly talking about their “alien friends” at Mission Control and others came back home with an uncanny fascination for the color green.

As the demand for space missions skyrocket, can we all agree it’s less about scientific exploration, and more about making friends with the little green men?

Seriously, you can drop the pretense, NASA! The earthlings are ready to be part of the Galactic Federation of Friendships! Sure, there might be a little language barrier and our dance moves might need some serious work. But we can assure you – Earthlings throw the best parties in this side of the Milky Way!

So until we know more, keep your telescopes pointed towards the horizon and you might just spot an astronaut and a green, gelatinous creature raising their Martian Mai-tais in a toast to their interstellar bromance.

Get ready to toss your French and Spanish flashcards out the window, because there’s a new language on the scene – and it’s out of this world! That’s right, folks. Martian is the latest dialect taking the nation by storm. ‘Extraterrestrial enthusiasts’ are lining up left, right and center to enroll in galactic language classes, promising to help you ‘Speak Martian in 30 Days’.

Martian – the universal lingua franca of our little green friends from the Red Planet – has become the hottest trend for anyone keen to broaden their linguistic repertoire beyond the outer limits of Earth. Who needs Rosetta Stone when you can learn to converse in a language that could potentially come in handy during an interstellar soiree or an unexpected alien encounter?

These Martian language classes, springing up faster than crop circles, are typically led by self-proclaimed ‘Extralinguists’. Most of these experts got their linguistic foundations in more traditional languages like Mandarin, Swahili or Klingon, but now they’ve shifted focus to the hot new tongue – Martian.

The classes promise to teach everything from basic Martian greetings (“Zorka”, essentially the equivalent of our ‘hello’) to more complex sentences that could help you haggle at intergalactic bazaars or raise a toast at an extraterrestrial jubilee.

One excited alumnus of the crash course swears she can now speak Martian as fluently as her native English and has even started dreaming in the alien language. And while we can’t independently verify her claims, we have no doubt her conversations are truly ‘out of this world’.

The appeal doesn’t stop at simply charming the pants off aliens during unexpected encounters. Did I mention the potential career opportunities? Many ‘Earthlings’ on this course hope to become the first intergalactic interpreters, the ‘go-betweens’ for humanity and our galactic neighbors. Imagine the prestige of being the first person to officiate a human-alien wedding or translate the peace treaty between Earth and Mars.

And then there’s the Martian poetry. Truly, there’s nothing more profound than reading Martian Haikus recounting the ageless beauty of Phobos and Deimos, Mars’ two moons, in their original Martian. And don’t dismiss the satisfaction of cursing a Mars Rover for driving over your favorite pair of Martian sandals in perfect Martian slang!

But why stop at Martian? Many of these pioneering extralinguists are beginning to explore other alien languages too. ‘Venusian Verbose’, ‘Jupiter Jargon’, ‘Neptunian Nuances’ and ‘Saturnian Syntax’ are rumored to be on the horizon, promising a whole new linguistic universe to explore.

The linguistic leap to Martian has sparked some controversy, though. Skeptics claim there’s no scientific evidence to suggest that Martians even have a language. Critics also wonder if it’s ethical to charge for classes teaching what might well prove to be a fabricated dialect. Moreover, linguists are challenging the claim that anyone can truly ‘Speak Martian in 30 Days’.

But the critics hardly matter to Martian language enthusiasts. With classes filling up faster than a rocket on its countdown, it’s clear that Earthlings are hungry for knowledge of the heavens; potential alien gibberish or not.

So, whether you’re preparing for your next trip to Mars, looking to diversify your linguistic skills, or simply want to impress your friends at parties with your interstellar creativity, it seems like Martian language classes are the way to go. After all, who wouldn’t want to add ‘fluent in Martian’ to their resume or Tinder profile?

In conclusion, brace yourselves folks, because it might not be long before ‘Martian Major’ is an official course at your local university. You may just find your child graduating with a degree in extraterrestrial linguistics and seeking employment as an intergalactic diplomat. And, if that day comes, remember, you heard it here first!