For Earth Had Nothing More to Give

Humanity always imagined first contact with aliens would be made by a daring space captain and his crew of brave explorers, a committee of world leaders or maybe a rag tag group of maverick scientists.

Having the aliens sit down with a bunch of tv executives and movie producers was not in anyone's bingo card. The meeting reached an impasse, an eerie silence set over the conference room; finally, the three meter space armadillo of more spikes than armadillo slammed his fist on the table:

-No more excuses, no more mercy! Either Stragnor, Scourge of The Galaxy gets more Anya chan or this planet will suffer!

Xlz-Ktpr, the amorphous slime of sharp fanged circles for mouths proclaimed: 

-Annie soon too old to be sexualized, where Community movie?!!

The indescribable space horror of endless eyes and tentacles let its thoughts be known around the table: 

-We’re already at Space King 6, when will Henry Cavill appear?

The Amazon executive tried her luck:

-Sir…? You are aware that Warhammer 40k and Space King are totally legally distinct franchises, aren't you?

-What?! And what happened to Cavill's 40k?

-After intense debate and meticulous study, our scientists concluded Henry Cavill is cursed.

-Unacceptable! - said Xlz-Ktpr, The Intestine Disentangler - He’s not Superman, he’s not Gerald of Rivia, he’s not Adeptus Astartes. Why would you humans bio-engineer the pinnacle of masculine perfection if you won’t do anything with it?

-We are aware we made some poor decisions in the past…

Stragnor, Scourge of The Galaxy interrupted:

-Listen up you meat blobs, you gotta get your act together. It's not protocol of the galactic community to contact a civilization before they achieve interstellar flight, but you forced our hand. We were very patient when HBO cancelled Rome, when Game of Thrones ended in disappointment, the unspeakable made to Star Wars and Star Trek…

-...the Pacific Rim sequel.

-Wooooooow! - alien and human alike proclaimed in unison.

The teethed blob took up the task of defending the sanctity of the table:

-That whose name is unpronounceable, you know the laws of the universe, we will have no blasphemy at this table! There is no sequel to Del Toro's giant robot movie and there never was.

-I am most sorry, I am doing my best to behave properly, but you can see I’m at my infinite limit, all the universes are! You humans need to understand that we here present are the moderate faction, only by the greatest of efforts could we convince the rest of the galaxy to hold off their blasters and let us try talking to you first.

Stragnor, Scourge of The Galaxy vented:

-We’re no stranger to cliffhangers, we all watched when Riker said “Mr. Worf, fire”, when Marty read the letter Doc Brown sent him from the past, but we can't wait years to know if there will even be a next season of our shows.

The Netflix executive tried to justify himself:

-You must understand production got very expensive, audience attention fickle and, not to be picky, but, technically, all you extraterrestrials have been pirating our content.

-Art, not content, insolent human! But be it as it may, say we provide you with abundant resources, would you bring back Inside Job?

-We’re not on speaking terms with Shion Takeuchi, can I interest you in a sequel to Damsel or The Electric State?

Silence fell once again over the table, the eyes of the room rested upon the Netflix executive. No longer containing itself, the one of unpronounceable name declared:

-I’m gonna erase humans from spacetime!

-No!!! - the aliens yelled, trying to contain the unimaginable mass of eyes and tentacles. 

-Think of the Friends reruns! - Xlz-Ktpr pleaded.

-I don’t want to live in a universe where Alchemy of Souls never existed! - Stragnor, Scourge of The Galaxy cried.

The Disney executive tried to disarm the situation:

-Hey, it’s not all bad, live action Finding Nemo is coming out this summer.

The aliens stared at each other, Xlz-Ktpr spoke:

-I’m gonna pull those guys’ intestines out; Stragnor, break their bones; Unpronounceable, make sure their last moments last for eternity.

Earth was conquered, its population enslaved. Japanese animators were subject to gruesome shifts of 6.5h/day, American writers forced to live with $240,000 a year, Korean actors subjected to extensive plastic surgery, sometimes twice. Humanity would never rise up against their alien overlords.

The Indians, meanwhile, shrugged all the fuzz off and kept on dancing.

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