Blood flows into your eyes as you crawl from the wreckage and the horde emerges from the dirt. They holler loud. As far as you can see are the striped shirts, the brutal furrowed brows, the beady, shifty eyes. Might this red sphere have borne the menace Crime and carried it upon astral winds to fragile Earth? Is this merely a spectacular coincidence--parallel evolution producing the same result at two points separated by unfathomable distance? Perhaps there also exists a world where goblets are as plentiful as pineapples, gleaming in the autumn sun, gently gnawed upon by free-roaming dogs and infants. The thought comforts you as the bludgeoning begins.