Marty the Martian

Nobody had ever flown through space, still I was supposed to do it and bring back an alien for Marsten's circus. Nonsense, you say? Meet—
It's still very clear in my mind. The whole episode. The afternoon visit to Marsten's office, the trip to Mars, and the journey back.
It was one of those warm summer afternoons. All one craved for was a patch of green grass to recline on and maybe a faint breeze to tingle one's forehead. I was sure of the grass and hopeful for the breeze. But one of Marsten's messengers popped up and the grass and the breeze would have to wait. After all, Marsten was my boss.
He had his office in the Empire State Building. Norbert Marsten was the owner of the Marsten Circus, the greatest, biggest, loudest circus in the world. And if you don't believe it, ask Mr. Marsten.
Sit down, Nick, he invited, speaking from one corner of his mouth as the other corner was busy chewing a dollar cigar. Marsten was a small man with sleek black, hair. A small man with big ideas.
I sat down.
Nick, you're the best 'bring 'em back alive' man I've got. The best.
This was very true. You've got a job for me, I said.
That's correct.
So why the buildup? Tell me what you want.
I want something that no other circus has.
You must be kidding. You have every known animal there is. Why, the bushmaster I brought you two months ago is the longest—