As retold by Bruce Lowitt

A Martian crash lands on East Houston Street, right in front of Katz's delicatessen, blowing a couple of tires on his spaceship. He gets out of the wreck and goes into the deli.

"Excuse me," he says to the man behind the counter. "How much are those tires."

"Tires? What tires?"

"Those tires."

"Those aren't tires," the counterman says. "They're called bagels."

"Whatever," the Martian says. "I think they'll fit on my XZ330."

"They're not for riding on. They're for eating. Here. Try."

The Martian takes a bite, chews, and says, "I bet these would go great with cream cheese and lox!"