“Glorx, what is this?”

The alien pointed a tentacle at the monitor. “Golx, are you blind? It’s a transmission from another plane of existence!”

Golx sighed, rolling his quadruple-plus-one sets of eyes. “Well, yeah, I kinda guessed that since my program about the best way to saute a kloofington’s newly born with bugby oil was so rudely switched off. Why are we watching this daytime program anyhow?”

Glorx thumped her antenna against Golx’s retractable eyestalks. “Just look, you bingle-brained ninny!”

“I’ll show you a bingle-brained ninny you little—”

He cried out, his eyestalk feeling as if it had been run over by a warp-drive ship. Muttering obscene curses underneath his breath—or lack of breath, since he didn’t need to breath—he focused his attention back to the monitor.

“Wait… it’s just those disgusting carbon-based life-forms from that pinball planet in the backwoods of the Milky Way galaxy,” Golx said. “Don’t we usually probe them to film freaky fetish porn? Humans in anal heat, I believe we called it.”

Glorx nodded, which was a stiff undertaking to do without a neck. “Normally yes, but look what they’re doing!”

The monitor was split between the horrifyingly wretched human creatures looking through a device while at the same time two other creatures, both blindingly colorful and gut-wrenchingly ugly. Ponies, the usual fare for what was awful about the universe.

“They’re using their visual preceptors to stare at each other.” Golx groaned and shoved Glorx out of his way. “You think I find this interesting? I’d rather watch two fideleeons procreate through budding!”

“You fool, don’t you see what’s happening? These two, barely out of their larva evolution state species know about each other but don’t even bother contacting each other!”

“... And?”

“And, since we have nothing better to do, we can partake in some fun from their insignificant life expansivities! It’d be just like when we made the Goolorges and Glurgs go to war and then genocide just to decide where to go to lunch yesterday!”

Golx tapped his maw with a slimy appendage and hummed. “Yes, yes… this could be interesting. But what do we do to them?”

Glorx squelched like a giddy school-bdhlfouyensks. “Ooh, ooh, we can play Risk! That was a fun human game we ripped off and didn’t pay copyrights for!”

“Awww, but whoever gets the ponies is gonna suck!” Golx reminded him. “You never do good when you have hippies!”

“Remember Gandhi? That human in the game was a stone-cold, ruthless dictator and imperialist.”

Golx shrugged, another feat difficult to master without shoulders. “Yeah, well, we played that last week. Got anything else?”

Glorx tapped his lack of a chin with a tentacle. “What about Monopoly? Treat half the board as the human side, the other half the other brightly colored vermin side. Then we sell off worldwide property until one of us goes bankrupt, then ka-bloom, we destroy both planets.”

“Eh… that game takes centuries to complete. Plus, I don’t trust you to be the banker again ever since you sunk the Hthulhuthu economy into despair just to sneak away a few extra bucks. Anything else?”

“Candyland?” Glorx suggested.

Before Golx could make a witty reply why that was a stupid idea, he stopped speaking, his membrane, internal sensors picking up a delightful aroma coming from the monitor screen.

“What is that delightfully sickening and putrid smell coming from, Glorx?” Golx asked, his flabs parting ways to absorb the stench more. “It’s absolutely awful, I can’t help myself.”

Glorx took notice of the scent as well, tracking it down from the monitor screen to a new image of an overweight human alone in his room, hunkered over a computer while he scratched at his neckbeard with cheeto-stained fingers.

“It’s from Earth. Apparently, in such a short time, some middle-aged, lonely, pathetic, and most important to note, living in their parent’s basement humans took a liking to the show based off of the pony world, and have begun writing incredibly awful and poorly written fanfictions based off of them,” Glorx said, switching the image now to a lonely mare sitting at her computer screen all alone, scratching at her neck with cheeto-stained hooves. “While in the pony world, single mares have begun to write fanfiction of degrading quality off the show made of the human world.”

“By the Gylyuotutluas, it’s a double hitter of badly written fanfictions from two incredibly awful sources,” Golx muttered in awe. He began to sniff more deeply, enthralled by the disgusting scent coming off of both worlds. “It’s just so pathetically bad, it’s delicious! Never before have I tasted such sweet butthurt, such moanful bitching, and such degrading quality in all my life time!”

“This can feed us for countless sun-death cycles until the end of time!” Glorx added on.

“You know what that means?!”

Glorx and Golx threw their tentacles and eyestalks up in the air, shouting, “Perfectly Perfunctory Probing Party!”