“What is he doing to your virtual corpse Zorg?”
“He is repeatedly crouching on my face. I believe it is a sign of dominance. I tried searching for the gesture on the human interweb but it kept returning references to a warm caffeinated beverage.”
“Most strange. How goes the tactical assessment? Have you managed to best the human warriors yet at their simulation war games?”
Zorg hung all three of his heads in shame, “Alas no. I cannot even beat the human children. They repeatedly annihilate me and then taunt me for my failure. Several of them have threatened to procreate with my birther. I indicated that they lacked the suction cups required for successful copulation but that only made it worse.”
The grand master made a note on his lightpad, “What is your assessment of the threat the humans pose if we invade?”
“If the children are such skilled warriors the adults must be tactical geniuses. The fully grown humanoids rarely participate in the simulation games, suggesting they are too busy engaged in real warfare. The adults that do partake in the digital warfare escape the continual conflict by hiding in underground bunkers which they call their ‘mothers basement’. The children savagely taunt these cowards and point out that they are unfamiliar with the touch of human females. I have therefore deduced that females are only interested in the fiercest warriors. After several generations the human race will be naturally selected to be genetic killing machines. I suggest we skip this planet until further reinforcements are available.”
“Duly noted. Are there any other relevant facts you have discovered?”
“Yes, rocket launchers are for newbs.”
“Erm, thank you Zorg, why don’t you take a break.”
“I totally will, I’m just going to have one more game…”
