Mark your time, hu-mans!

Special Guest Commentary
by Waxulon-6, Lord High Admiral of the Kremulakian Earth Invaders
The Being Formerly Known as Congressman Henry Waxman (D-CA)

Attention Hu-Mans:

Mark your time! Behold the current heat readings of your atmosphere, which have now reached less than negative 40 in your Earth-degrees. Phase I of the Kremulakian conquest of your filthy pitiful orb is complete!

Foolish Hu-Mans, did you not suspect? It is now far too late for resistance. The planetary reign of the invincible Ice Beings of Kremulak can not be stopped, and thus I can now reveal all. And taunt your Earth-foolishness with delicious impunity! Ha ha ha!

When our scientist first discovered your planet 6.3 Kremulakian moon-orbits ago, I argued before the High Admiralty that it would be a suitable world for conquest and colonization. The Inner Council accused me of madness! They said we Kremulaks could never survive in your stupid planet’s hostile hot temperatures. They said our nostrils would mutate and explode under your intense atmospheric pressures. They said that Hu-mans would never vote us into their control councils.

Fools! I wagered Supreme Overlord Gromfnorg-0 himself that not only would I survive, but that I would win quick election to your Earth Commerce and Energy committee — without even using my visual cloaking device! Little did he know that I, Lord Waxulon-6, had been carefully monitoring your Earth-frequencies and Earth-internet and Earth-basic cable news, and had discovered the outpost which you Hu-Mans call “San Francisco.” Needless to say, my little bet has paid off handsomely — winning me over 6000 Kremulakian trading crystals.

Victory over you puny race was even easier than I anticipated. In fact, the only resistance I encountered was on the invasion-saucer voyage, when Pelosicon-8 and Obamulak-3 kept trying to recalibrate the music-frequencies. And the impudent weak-glanded Algor-11, who needed to make biowaste stops at every refueling station between here and the Antares subcluster.

When our saucers landed in the land you call “Berkeley,” our first encounter with Hu-Mans were the ones you call “hippie panhandlers.” Their waste products contained small quantities of the fresh ammonia we need to survive, but not enough to sustain a major Kremulakian colonization. But soon I discovered a native resource that would sustain us for hundreds of moon-orbits: your delicious Earth-dollars!

Soon the panhandling Hu-Mans introduced us to a more advanced species: the ones you call the “douchebags.” How easily they were frightened by Algor-11’s PowerPoints. How easily they were mesmerized by Obamulak’s soothing soundwaves. In less than a single moon-orbit, we had mobilized them as mindslaves to demand reduced Earth-heat for the next wave of Kremulakian invaders! And all for a few tickets to Obamulak’s inauguration festival!

Ha ha ha! Your Earth-douchebags are so stupid… stupid… STUPID!!

Phase I of our plan is complete. In Phase II you will turn over your delicious Earth-dollars to the Kremulakian Carbon Revenue Service. In Phase III, our tractor beams will relocate your planet to a more pleasing solar distance. In Phase IV, colonization and spawning.

This is your warning! Do not attempt to resist, for your insolence will be revisited a thousandfold with heavy late filing penalties and interest. Hu-Mans who cooperate will be allowed to toil in the ice mines and assist with our Kremulakian breeding and birthing ceremonies. Await further instructions on your assignment. You are now commanded to wear your heavy garments and ski masks to increase your probability of survival. And because we Kremulaks find your Hu-Man forms hideous!

Cry your tears now, Hu-Mans! Although I take great pleasure in your lamentations, I grow weary and must return to my cryo-pod before I evaporate further. And boy, I have to make gasoline like a race horse.


About Terry Crowley