HOLY SHIT GUYS GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS
HAPPY HAGFISH DAY
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HOLY SHIT GUYS GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS
HAPPY HAGFISH DAY
On the topic of humans being everyone’s favorite Intergalactic versions of Gonzo the Great: Come on you guys, I’ve seen all the hilarious additions to my “humans are the friendly ones” post. We’re basically Steve Irwin meets Gonzo from the Muppets at this point. I love it.
But what if certain species of aliens have Rules for dealing with humans?
Don’t eat their food. If human food passes your lips/beak/membrane/other way of ingesting nutrients, you will never be satisfied with your ration bars again.
Don’t tell them your name. Humans can find you again once they know your name and this can be either life-saving or the absolute worst thing that could happen to you, depending on whether or not they favor you. Better to be on the safe side.
Winning a human’s favor will ensure that a great deal of luck is on your side, but if you anger them, they are wholly capable of wiping out everything you ever cared about. Do not anger them.
If you must anger them, carry a cage of X’arvizian bloodflies with you, for they resemble Earth mo-skee-toes and the human will avoid them.
This does not always work. Have a last will and testament ready.
Do not let them take you anywhere on your planet that you cannot fly a ship from. Beings who are spirited away to the human kingdom of Aria Fiv-Ti Won rarely return, and those that do are never quite the same.
Basically, humans are like the Fair Folk to some aliens and half of them are scared to death and the others are like alien teenagers who are like “I dare you to ask a human to take you to Earth”.
We knew about the planet called Earth for centuries before we made contact with its indigenous species, of course. We spent decades studying them from afar.
The first researchers had to fight for years to even get a grant, of course. They kept getting laughed out of the halls. A T-Class Death World that had not only produced sapient life, but a Stage Two civilization? It was a joke, obviously. It had to be a joke.
And then it wasn’t. And we all stopped laughing. Instead, we got very, very nervous.
We watched as the human civilizations not only survived, but grew, and thrived, and invented things that we had never even conceived of. Terrible things, weapons of war, implements of destruction as brutal and powerful as one would imagine a death world’s children to be. In the space of less than two thousand years, they had already produced implements of mass death that would have horrified the most callous dictators in the long, dark history of the galaxy.
Already, the children of Earth were the most terrifying creatures in the galaxy. They became the stuff of horror stories, nightly warnings told to children; huge, hulking, brutish things, that hacked and slashed and stabbed and shot and burned and survived, that built monstrous metal things that rumbled across the landscape and blasted buildings to ruin.
All that preserved us was their lack of space flight. In their obsession with murdering one another, the humans had locked themselves into a rigid framework of physics that thankfully omitted the equations necessary to achieve interstellar travel.
They became our bogeymen. Locked away in their prison planet, surrounded by a cordon of non-interference, prevented from ravaging the galaxy only by their own insatiable need to kill one another. Gruesome and terrible, yes - but at least we were safe.
Or so we thought.
The cities were called Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In the moment of their destruction, the humans unlocked a destructive force greater than any of us could ever have believed possible. It was at that moment that those of us who studied their technology knew their escape to be inevitable, and that no force in the universe could have hoped to stand against them.
The first human spacecraft were… exactly what we should have expected them to be. There were no elegant solar wings, no sleek, silvered hulls plying the ocean of stars. They did not soar on the stellar currents. They did not even register their existence. Humanity flew in the only way it could: on all-consuming pillars of fire, pounding space itself into submission with explosion after explosion. Their ships were crude, ugly, bulky things, huge slabs of metal welded together, built to withstand the inconceivable forces necessary to propel themselves into space through violence alone.
It was almost comical. The huge, dumb brutes simply strapped an explosive to their backs and let it throw them off of the planet.
We would have laughed, if it hadn’t terrified us.
Humanity, at long last, was awake.
It was a slow process. It took them nearly a hundred years to reach their nearest planetary neighbor; a hundred more to conquer the rest of their solar system. The process of refining their explosive propulsion systems - now powered by the same force that had melted their cities into glass less than a thousand years before - was slow and haphazard. But it worked. Year by year, they inched outward, conquering and subduing world after world that we had deemed unfit for habitation. They burrowed into moons, built orbital colonies around gas giants, even crafted habitats that drifted in the hearts of blazing nebulas. They never stopped. Never slowed.
The no-contact cordon was generous, and was extended by the day. As human colonies pushed farther and farther outward, we retreated, gave them the space that they wanted in a desperate attempt at… stalling for time, perhaps. Or some sort of appeasement. Or sheer, abject terror. Debates were held daily, arguing about whether or not first contact should be initiated, and how, and by whom, and with what failsafes. No agreement was ever reached.
We were comically unprepared for the humans to initiate contact themselves.
It was almost an accident. The humans had achieved another breakthrough in propulsion physics, and took an unexpected leap of several hundred light years, coming into orbit around an inhabited world.
What ensued was the diplomatic equivalent of everyone staring awkwardly at one another for a few moments, and then turning around and walking slowly out of the room.
The human ship leapt away after some thirty minutes without initiating any sort of formal communications, but we knew that we had been discovered, and the message of our existence was being carried back to Terra.
The situation in the senate could only be described as “absolute, incoherent panic”. They had discovered us before our preparations were complete. What would they want? What demands would they make? What hope did we have against them if they chose to wage war against us and claim the galaxy for themselves? The most meager of human ships was beyond our capacity to engage militarily; even unarmed transport vessels were so thickly armored as to be functionally indestructible to our weapons.
We waited, every day, certain that we were on the brink of war. We hunkered in our homes, and stared.
Across the darkness of space, humanity stared back.
There were other instances of contact. Human ships - armed, now - entering colonized space for a few scant moments, and then leaving upon finding our meager defensive batteries pointed in their direction. They never initiated communications. We were too frightened to.
A few weeks later, the humans discovered Alphari-296.
It was a border world. A new colony, on an ocean planet that was proving to be less hospitable than initially thought. Its military garrison was pitifully small to begin with. We had been trying desperately to shore it up, afraid that the humans might sense weakness and attack, but things were made complicated by the disease - the medical staff of the colonies were unable to devise a cure, or even a treatment, and what pitifully small population remained on the planet were slowly vomiting themselves to death.
When the human fleet arrived in orbit, the rest of the galaxy wrote Alphari-296 off as lost.
I was there, on the surface, when the great gray ships came screaming down from the sky. Crude, inelegant things, all jagged metal and sharp edges, barely holding together. I sat there, on the balcony of the clinic full of patients that I did not have the resources or the expertise to help, and looked up with the blank, empty, numb stare of one who is certain that they are about to die.
I remember the symbols emblazoned on the sides of each ship, glaring in the sun as the ships landed inelegantly on the spaceport landing pads that had never been designed for anything so large. It was the same symbol that was painted on the helmets of every human that strode out of the ships, carrying huge black cases, their faces obscured by dark visors. It was the first flag that humans ever carried into our worlds.
It was a crude image of a human figure, rendered in simple, straight lines, with a dot for the head. It was painted in white, over a red cross.
The first human to approach me was a female, though I did not learn this until much later - it was impossible to ascertain gender through the bulky suit and the mask. But she strode up the stairs onto the balcony, carrying that black case that was nearly the size of my entire body, and paused as I stared blankly up at her. I was vaguely aware that I was witnessing history, and quite certain that I would not live to tell of it.
Then, to my amazement, she said, in halting, uncertain words, “You are the head doctor?”
I nodded.
The visor cleared. The human bared its teeth at me. I learned later that this was a “grin”, an expression of friendship and happiness among their species.
“We are The Doctors Without Borders,” she said, speaking slowly and carefully. “We are here to help.”
You can’t get this extremely good kind of content scrolling anywhere else.
This sparks joy.
Everyone who has heard the term “guerrilla warfare” has also briefly imagined a war made up of gorillas - this is the one connecting thread that every single one of us on this planet share, surpassing race, virtues, culture and more. If you’re ever feeling lonely, know that at one point, all of us thought this very same thought.
Does anyone else ever wanna disconnect one of your limbs and beat someone with it.
I think there is a less complicated way of beating someone with one of your limbs
He just wants to be the famous super hero Arm-Fall-Off-Boy, okay?
Fall off boy is my favorite band, actually
Whole new meaning to 'This aint a scene, it's an arms race'
Alright, pack it up boys, joke's done. Good work.
Honestly you don’t even have to change the genre much. Guy probably went through quite the ordeal because of all the people trying to get to Indy.
Day 1: “Professor Jones, hate to bother you but there’s an assassin trying to kill me, do you have...yes I see it...*gunshots* just to make sure, is there any paperwork I can file or should I just call the police?”
Day 85: “Oh fucking try me, I have 84 papers to grade because that lazy asshole went off to fucking Burma in the middle of fucking finals week, if you don’t leave right the fuck now I will awaken that ancient artifact in the corner and turn your intestines into fucking snakes.”
also, don’t forget: the movies are set in the 1930s-50s
so please imagine this 20-year-old girl who’s had to practically fight god to convince everyone that, no, she would NOT be happier with a degree in home economics and yes, she DOES want to be an archaeologist. she’s had to deal with male grad students trying to steal her research and constant patronizing questions about whether she can really handle the dirt and insects out in the field. even Indy, who stands up for her when the department leadership tries to pull Some Bullshit, sometimes treats her like a glorified secretary just out of habit
when the bad guys show up, they are therefore faced with a young woman who exists in a permanent state of simmering rage. she has a sensible wool skirt and practical oxfords and a baseball bat and you can fuck right off if you’re trying to pull this nonsense right after one of her professors just called her “sweetie” for the dozenth time
Okay idk if the timing and logistics match up at all but i just have a fever thought that his TA is none other than Mrs Evelyn O’Connell. Just think about it.
Jones: Are you sure you’re up for this position?
Evie: Dr Jones I assure you that despite being a woman I-
Jones: No no it’s not that, it’s just that there’s a lot of… weird artifacts that come through my door
Evie: Oh, well I actually have some experience with weird
Jones: and sometimes it can get dangerous…
Evie *smiling*: I can handle that as well
(Later in the school year, during a shoot out)
Jones: You weren’t kidding! *gunshots*
Evie pulling out a grenade and chucks it: These ruffians aren’t half as bad Imhotep, and he was nothing compared to midterms *explosion*
Evie: Oh dear they seem to have brought more friends. Pass me my bag Professor Jones if you’d please.
Jones: Sure Evie *hands her the bag*
Evie: *pulls out an old fashion pistol with a large bell*
Jones: I don’t think that’s going to be enough.
Evie: Oh it’s not. I’m phoning my husband *fires a flare through the window*
Jones: I doubt stiff upper lip gent is going to help us right now Evie.
Evie: I whole heartedly agree Professor Jones.
*A moment later Rick crashes the car through the wall and pulls out a tommy gun. He screams at the top of his lungs as he rushes the bad guys*
Evie: Luckily my husband is American.
the winter soldier getting ready to go and fight that handsome man with the shield was probably kinda like:
DELETE THIS POST
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME
*clicks play in morbid curiosity*
*hammers reblog button*
I think I find this post every April Fools Day and I am so happy that I do
reblog this if your blog is a safe space on april fools and won’t have any jumpers, screamers, or anything scary or anxiety inducing
No question. Got no time for that kind of thing.
YOU HAVE SUCH A BIG KIND HEART! ❤️❤️❤️ helping officers in need!!! 💕💕💕
dream job
you guys wanna see the most accurate and blasphemous representation of the words ‘catholic shaming’?
happy easter, everyone
you know Easter is just around the corner cause this post is making rounds again
It’s that time of the year again
Hi there I’m looking for a honest and loving sugar baby companion here and I will be paying sweetly $800 dm +13133640399 WhatsApp
This is the funniest thing that has happened to this post
Tom hiddleston for W Magazine 2016
first 5 faceless emojis are how your summers gonna go
oh my goodness, one of dian fossey’s first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time she’d gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: “Nearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.”
hello, fellow apes
The lead up to that sentence is gold: