MADAME CALIVERA'S CORPORATE IDENTITY PROGRAM
The spaceship resembled a giant metallic carrot with three legs sprouting from its narrow end. It touched down on the barren plains of the planet designated by humans as Limpdick III, striking a gout of dry dust from the surface. After a short interval the ship disgorged a land-crawler whose front grille mimicked the grimace of the rock-eating lizards of Why The Fuck Are We Here. The crawler set off across the plain, raising clouds of cinders and soil particulates.
Fifteen minutes of travel brought the crawler to a native village: a collection of mismatched huts flanked by rudimentary benches and fire pits and rubbish heaps. On the benches sat various natives of Limpdick III: repulsive green warty indolent trolls with enormous genitalia. The penises of the males and the labial folds of the females flopped over the edges of the benches and into the dust.
A door in the crawler gull-winged open, and a human woman emerged. Clad in a black and white skintight business suit, the woman exhibited an imperious air. Unhesitatingly, she stalked over to the nearest native, a male.
"Where's Drongo Kaboom?"
The troll used both hands to shift his dick to avoid a line of creeping insects. "I am Drongo Kaboom."
"Did you enroll in the home-study Master of Business Administration program from Harvard University?"
"Yes, that I did."
"And did you realize that your tuition payment was drawn on a non-human bank account that paid Harvard only in the dried skins of puke-cats?"
"The puke-cat is our global currency."
"Furthermore, do you acknowledge that every one of your term papers has been plagiarized off the Interstellar Internet?"
"Why should I strain my delicate brains when stealing is much easier?"
"Lastly, do you admit enticing a female freshman from Brookline, Massachusetts, all the way out to Limpdick III with promises of a 'monster kegger' and then leaving her stranded halfway to the Magellanic Clouds, covered in quarts of your jizm?"
"I have recordings indicating all relations were consensual."
The woman glared at the troll for a moment, then broke into a smile and extended her hand. "Mister Kaboom, you're just the material Harvard Business School is looking for! How's tenure sound to you?"