August 30, 2004

We may not be alone on this world

This conquering job is getting hairier and hairier with each passing day. At the advice of that farting maniac that decontaminated the armory, gladly given after I proffered the two dead bodies for his examination and graciously agreed to relinquish possession of such to his care, I allowed him to surround this house with a force barrier designed to violently repel any cheese thrown toward it. The barrier itself is invisible and admits any substance that does not contain cheese or some other form of lactic acid. I was stationed on the porch, cleaning and repairing my assortment of ray guns now that I can freely enter the armory again, and, while doing so, was watching an unruly throng of dissidents hurtling cheeseballs in my direction. They all seemed to be very surprised when their biological projectiles mysteriously rebounded and landed in their midst. During the early morning hours, I also observed a group of eloquently dressed human females slowly moving among the houses in the neighborhood, going, as a group, from door to door. I assumed their actions were an attempt to raise support for the dissident's cause. Of the group of five women, however, three found themselves thrown to the gutter as they attempted to cross the invisible barrier. I suspect that they were spies attempting to smuggle cheese through the barrier in their blouses as it appeared that as soon as their chests came into contact with the barrier, they were thrown violently backward. The two older ladies had no such difficulty, however, and were allowed to walk easily through the barrier. I graciously allowed them to alert me to the purpose of their visit, which they falsely stated was to locate new members to attend the local Methodist Church, before I used the freshly charge ray gun in my hand to disintegrate them into a pile of soft gray ash. I thereafter zapped the other three. It appearing that the force field does nothing to diminish the ray emissions from my ray guns, I am now busily zapping cheese chunking dissidents with my just repaired ray cannon. The sight of that group scurrying about screaming as they witness the devastation of the ray is hilarious -- at least, it is hilarious to me.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 11:49 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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August 28, 2004

Which one of you puny pieces of crap phoned the coppers?

The worker is still busy trying to suck all that nasty contaminated bio-matter from the armory room and I have nothing to do until he completes his job. I am still giddier than a Gixtonian Goat full of ganji-grass from a full day of having to sniff those damn farts that seem to keep blowing out of whatever end of him is pointed in my direction. I have not had the energy to do more than scan that big monitor in the main room watching the activity going on among your puny species while I while away my hours awaiting my chance to annihilate your kind as originally planned, when the door bell rings. It was these two idiots from the Federal Bureau of Investigation who wanted to ask me all these stupid questions, like why did I look the way I looked and why did I smell the way I smelled. I took about as much abuse from this Agent Scully and Agent Mulder as I could before I felt the undeniable urge to crush the life out of them both in my tentacles. Your species is so fragile and I believe my expending of physical effort was quite minimal to have snuffed the life out of two of your fellow beings. I suppose I could continue my conquering activities by crushing you each, as well, individually, but the thing I like best about the use of the ray gun is that in addition to ending the life within the body, it also leaves nothing of that body behind except a very small pile of ashes. However, in my case, I am now stuck with these two lifeless bodies and they are taking up valuable space in my front foyer. If any amount of luck was ever going to fall my way, that big farting galoot in there cleaning up the mess from yesterday's cheese ball attack will accept those dead bodies as a gratuity.

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August 27, 2004

Help sometimes comes with its own problems

Well, thankfully the decontamination crew, or should I say the large ugly really smelly creature who rang the doorbell, showed up very promptly this morning. It simply asked me where the cheese infested area was located and slimed its way to such location without further ado. I have heard nothing but sucking sounds coming from the armory room since he entered. Uh, wait, let me revise - I have heard nothing but sucking sounds interspersed with occasional very raspy sounding farts here and there. I suddenly find myself feeling like sharing an admission that I likely could have lived my whole life without smelling those gastric omissions. They have, however, seemed to produce a highly euphoric feeling within my brain. It almost makes you forget about that smell. Almost! I think I might be burning out my olfactory system, here. Anyone have any suggestions?

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August 26, 2004

I sense some resistance among the assorted throng

OK, I had already warned that certain biological weaponry were banned from use in planet conquering wars by the GUPpies, and yet, someone has already thrown a large piece of cheese through the front window of this house. Thankfully, I was in another room, but that cheese ball exploded into chunks as it crashed through the glass and scattered bits of cheese throughout the room. I have had to abandon my efforts to repair my arsenal until an appropriate bio-hazard team can be dispatched to decontaminate the contaminated room. It's unfair!

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August 25, 2004

Damn, I broke a nail

Yes, I had just hung up my ray gun rack, filled it with my major assortment of all kinds of top of the line ray guns and cannons, when one of nails I had used to affix such rack to the wall broke right in half. All of my expensive weaponry tumbled to the ground in a heap. I will now have to spend the remainder of my already busy day dismantling and examining each and every item in my armory so as to detect whatever damage might have occurred to any item as a result of that fall. If I had not already done so at the time I made my purchase, I would go back to that hardware store and zap the living crap out of that clerk that sold me that defective nail.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 02:54 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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August 24, 2004

Beware the invasionary force

Well, it appears that I have adequately prepared your species for full annihilation, having lulled you into a sense of false security. As if some small rodent was really any bother. My brethren are approaching this solar system as we speak and soon you shall be overrun with the most hellish creatures you could imagine. Of course, those who had the opportunity to meet with me face-to-face have already found that the terror experience upon encountering my visage is so short-lived, as death follows almost immediately. The end is near. If you want, you can freely spread that word.

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August 22, 2004

That Damned Rat stole my pencil

I am sorry that I have failed to keep my loyal minions apprised of my latest conquering activities, but it appears that the device I use to input my feeble scrawls into the electronic brain of this transmission device has mysteriously disappeared. Its prior location is scattered with tiny paw prints. I suspect sabotage. I regret the brevity of this report, but I find pressing on the keyboard keys with the tips of my tentacles to be physically uncomfortable.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 09:12 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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August 20, 2004

This house is infested with vermin

Let a conquering alien go on a one-day space trip just to get his tentacles styled and you come back to find vermin have infested your home. Mr Mouse, Mr Mouse, please show yourself so I can zap the crap out of your wee little vermin ass.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 04:44 PM | Comments (14) | Add Comment
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August 18, 2004

*SQUEAK*

Don't count me out, yet.

OK, have not been swatted yet. ttyl

House is still really quiet, but where is all the cheese? There is a lot of slimy yellow stuff all over everything, but given the way it smells, I would have let Bill Bulldog, RIP, eat it. I still have a good store of pilfered Cheerios stashed in the walls, so I am not hungry enough to venture a taste myself. What's that noise?

New day and the house is still. The horrible smell remains about the place. I think I will slip out and find some cheese. There does not seem to be a scrap of cheese to be found in this house.

Posted by: Mr Mouse at 09:03 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Did I locate an absolute accuracy?

Thanks to some flying space monkey which is easily likely more intelligent that the best of your kind, and whose mere presence corroborates my contention that your kind has been interacting with off-world species for a substantial interval of time, I encountered this strange website which complimented me:

The expanse of your intelligence is a void no universe could ever fill.
I would imagine that statement to be an accurate assessment of my immense brain power.

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Finding a good professional is a difficult operation

I searched and searched today for one of your kind who was capable of styling my tentacles in some fashionable shape so that people would cease running away while screaming wherever I go. I could not locate a single establishment that advertised such service, and, at every one of such at which I attempted to inquire about securing such service, I was met with the running away while screaming scenario. What is wrong with you people? Have you not now continually dealt with other species of the universe for a period substantially long enough for your kind not to have gained some inkling as to what services you need to offer. Surely you understand, by now, that it is your your universal responsibility to cater to our needs? Your insignificant species seems adequately capable of extensively catering to every mundane need of your own kind. I have noticed that for every item that might possibly be needed or wanted by your kind, you offer at least two choices, and, often, more choices than would be imaginable on any planet where logic had any say in the behavior of its denizens. I do really hate to have to go off world to get a tentacle styling, but I was hankering a bowlful of Terrelian Toad Soup, so maybe a little trip is in order.

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August 17, 2004

I think I caught some alien bug

I started to crawl out of the nest this morning and found my proboscis was stuffed up so badly that I had to breath through my ears. I think I caught one of the diseases you puny humans seem to pass around among you just to sell those stupid medical products that guy on the corner was always trying to sell. "Looking for drugs?" he asked. I ignored him the first time. The next time I turned him into a pile of ash. Some of the materials he was carrying on his body, however refused to disintegrate. It just smoked and smoked and released the most noxious odors. They were so horrible, they actually cleared the blockage so I was finally able to breath normally. Those noxious odors, however, decided to homestead in my nasal passages. How does one go about catching that bug that causes your sense of smell to disappear?

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August 16, 2004

No smoking please

I am quickly discovering that a lot of the people who are lining up daily like to smoke while they awaiting their turn to climb up and become part of the pile of people I have to zap every day. I am asking you to stop that practice please, and no, it has nothing to do with the smell, the smoke, or, especially, the fact that such affects your health. I mean, after all, in a few minutes, you will be turned into ash anyway, whether you are healthy or not. I really have no concern about your health. What does concern me is all those damn end parts of those smoking sticks you are throwing on the ground. Do you really know how unsightly they are? I have been seeing them everywhere I go, and surely do not want my temporary home to be surrounded by millions and million of such.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 11:35 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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August 15, 2004

A contest that ought to be more fun than peeing on yourself

Well, I tried the idea that James gave me, but I didn't get a single picture. That's OK really, though, as I was not all that crazy about keeping up with who got zapped on the last round anyway. So, we are still working on a hit and miss system . . . well, or, we will be on such as soon as puny humans get tired of lining up for me to zap each morning. Surely some of the members of your race are smart enough to at least attempt to fight back. I was so hopeful that all the research I did on your species was worth it and I would find it was going to be exciting to see what kind of defenses you come up with to keep me from zapping you into extinction.

Oh, I forgot to tell you the contest. As I am almost sure none of you know exactly what I look like, as any who have seen me have been already disintegrated, I think it would be fun to see how everyone believes I look like. Drawn or photoshopped or any other method you can think of is within the rules. I really expect that none of you kind is creative enough to come up with anything, so it will likely be the purpose of this contest to see if anyone has guts enough to pony up to the bar.

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August 14, 2004

It seems the water is full of interesting things, as well

I think I might like meeting one of these sharks. They sound like an very interesting species. From what little I have learned so far, I am surprised they are not in control of this planet. Maybe they are and no one yet knows. I am not too sure I do not also want to meet this fellow Charley who blew all those houses down in Florida. He sounds more evil than that Big Bad Wolf that was chasing after those three talking pigs in a story I overheard the other day.

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Sitting with only one of four hands being used

Your species is so strange. I have been watching these contests where some of your brothers and sisters are trying to outdo each other in physical contests. I cannot understand the significance of being able to swim faster or jump higher or fly longer than your competition. Where I come from, no one cares a whit about things like that. In our world, he who has the biggest ray gun wins every time. I have yet to find one among your kind that has anything as close to what I have, so, according to the laws that dictate the outcome of things, I win in the end. Hence, my lack of zeal at zapping the crap out of every puny human that crosses the sight-line from all six of my eyes. They had a contest last evening that was highly enjoyable where puny humans were competing against beasts of other sorts. As you continue your games here and there, I am still pleased there are so many who have lined up to assist me in getting my daily amount of zapping completed. Although I am not in a big hurry to finish, I still have a job to do.

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August 13, 2004

I knew I should have stayed in the nest

I grew fearful about climbing out of my nest this morning after hearing and reading all of the stories about the bad occurrences of Friday the 13th, but found my hunger would not subside so as to allow me to loiter beneath my tribble fur blanket. I therefore arose and ventured forth in a search for some repast and libation. I encountered this one very strange looking fellow at on sidewalk cafe who was was sucking down a continuous line of shakes that were being prepared by some skanky slut in a halter top. I was entranced, however, as I had never seen anyone from any planet just drop a live whimpering puppy into a blender and thereafter churn such into a liquefied solution of puppy blood, hair, and internal organs, pour it into a glass and serve it. I didn't stay long, as the whole scene was beginning to turn my stomach. I went next door to a more eclectic establishment and had a sumptuous meal of spotted owl and bald eagle, with a side order of rhinoceros pate'.

I had such an enjoyable breakfast that I forgot about the date and, as I left the dining establishment, I allowed my guard to fall. I never expected to be hit full force in the face by a gust of solar wind. It blew Pluto into my eye and I am having a devil of a time trying to remove it.

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August 12, 2004

Are ya ready for the rumble?

It seems there is a documentary dealing with a couple of different species who previously tried but failed in their attempts to conquer your planet that is supposedly going to be exhibited at many different sites tomorrow. I advise you not to run right out to watch such, because everything you see will not be as bad as what you will see when I come around to visit you with my fully charged ray gun. I would really hate for too many of you to get the wrong impression.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 07:27 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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They are lined up around the corner

Wow! This is such a lovely planet. Here I awoke a bit sore from the dance at Khan's palace a couple of light years past Alpha Centauri, as your species calls that distant shining energy generation ball of hydrogen. I am a bit behind on daily quota in my zapping mission and I really needed to zap a whole bunch of you puny humans today to catch up. I was expecting a miserable day of having to travel here and there to locate one hundred thousand idiots in a group close enough together so that I would only need to use one K-cell battery's worth of energy to convert to ash with my ray gun.

Well, as things go in my life, I opened my door to see a long line of people begging to be zapped today. There was easily five hundred thousand backed up for miles and miles. It was unbelievable. I do not ever remember a time in my life when I have found such a cooperative species to conquer. I have them voluntarily collecting themselves into a big pile out in the yard as I write this. As soon as I get the word that they are near completion of this huge pile of human flesh, I will go shine my ray gun on the pile until there is nothing left but ash. I will be a day ahead of schedule, which means that I can take tomorrow off. As it is Friday the 13th on your planet, I must accede to local rules and avoid any unnecessary activity on the morrow.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 02:02 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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August 11, 2004

OK, quit your whining already

I am getting so many continual requests that I delay zapping the crap out of some of you puny humans that I have taken the requests to my cold cold heart. I have come up with something that might be quite entertaining for all and will give me a way of finding which of the whiners is worthy of putting on the end of the list. I seem to have already moved some guy calling himself Turning Spoke for using my likeness in some silly film without having received the appropriate permission to do so. As such, the rest of you are no higher, currently, than No. 2 on the zap list. So, how do you get dropped toward the bottom of my list? Here is the plot.

Allow yourself to discharge the liquid biological waste from your body while still wearing your clothing or attempt to wet your clothing in such a way that it appears you did so, then take a picture of yourself or have your mother do so, and send it to me with a message telling me whether you actually allowed your liquid discharge to flow upon your clothing or chickened out and poured water upon your clothing to simulate such. I will then display the pictures and allow everyone who wants to drop down to the bottom of the list to guess who actually did discharge in their clothing and which ones did not. Those who correctly guess right get a free pass until the last day of zapping before I put the planet up for sale as fully conquered and ready for settlement. So, get those pictures made and email them to me before the end of this week.

The rumors that I am nothing but a disgruntled intergalactic furrier are without any factual basis.

Posted by: Zongo the Ruthless at 03:08 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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