 Based on your interpretation of the passage, of the following options who do you think would most likely be interested in reading it?
For Click and Irish were marooned on the pirate's asteroid—their only weapons a single gun and a news-reel camera. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1944. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Hathaway only knew he was picked up and hurled against a lever-bank, and that Marnagan wasn't long in following, swearing loud words. A sweeter one still of Marnagan beating hell out of the controls and keeping his words to himself until just now. "Is this what ?" yelled Marnagan inside his helmet. And when I'm ready I'll inform you and you can picture me profile for Cosmic Films!" They both waited, thrust against the shipside and held by a hand of gravity; listening to each other's breathing hard in the earphones. Hathaway felt himself grabbed; he and Marnagan rattled around—human dice in a croupier's cup. Hathaway stared at his gloved hand, but the gloving was so thick and heavy he couldn't tell if it was shaking. They stood in the middle of a pocked, time-eroded meteor plain that stretched off, dipping down into silent indigo and a rash of stars. Or was suffocation a better death...? Space-meteors are never hot and glowing. If it's proof you want, I've got it here, on film." "It's not proof we need now, Click. Oh, God, this would make great news-release stuff if we ever get back to Earth. Cosmic Films, please notice." There wasn't much to see, but it was better than standing still, waiting. After that—right or wrong—you'll be Cosmic Films prettiest unmoving, unbreathin' genius. It's times like this when we all need words, any words, on our tongues. "Gravity should not act this way, Click." some tubular and fat, others like thin white poisonous whips slashing along in the air. Hathaway made it first, Marnagan bellowing just behind him. Instinctively, Hathaway added, "Asteroid monsters! Something about these monsters and Gunther and— "Which one will you be having?" asked Irish, casually. You're doing nothing but sitting, looking like a little boy locked in a bedroom closet, so take me a profile shot of the beasties and myself." "Then," retorted Marnagan, "we'll develop it for our own benefit; while waitin' for the U.S. Cavalry to come riding over the hill to our rescue!"
 A well-read teenager with a penchant for thrilling adventure stories.
 A luddite who thinks even discussing technology is frustrating.  A well-read teenager with a penchant for thrilling adventure stories.  An avid reader of romance novels set in sci-fi locations.  An elementary schooler who likes outer space.