EVERYONE BY NOW, knows the story of the Ferengi race coming to this blue planet and America in the last century. So, let’s take a moment to celebrate these wonderful past decades of HU-MON and Ferengi relations! Let’s also do a little hate on the Klingon race since the ever-so-smart Ferengi tell us they must all be terrorists. Klingons, we’re told by the Ferengi, like to parade their children around in cute camouflage jumpsuits, use rocks to wipe themselves in the john and hold extreme, hard-core religious beliefs, unlike the always “easy-going” Ferengi.

And we know how much the so very innocent Ferengi have been terribly treated across the Universe. Yet, as the Ferengi have shown us more of their lovable side over the last few decades, we might now be able to get a better idea of just what happened on those 79 other planetary systems they were kicked-out from. The last ”Horrorcost” supposedly occurred in the Alpha Quadrant, just before they all crash-landed here — bravely escaping further unjust persecution and suffering as they constantly remind us.

The following photo essay has been uneasily approved by our Ferengi Anti-Defamation League Overseers, but only after the appropriate latinum transfer was completed and fully counted by many Ferengi accountants. So please click on the “read rest” button, fellow HU-MONs, because this cost a lot.

By now, everyone has seen the famous 1913 photo of US Army first lieutenant Ricardo Montebahn shaking the hand of Grand Nagus Zekstein shortly upon the arrival of the Ferengi refugees from intolerance. This was the first of the beat-up, old Ferengi space transports to crash-land in the desert of Nevada, just outside what was later to become Las Vegas. Talk about illegal (but welcome) aliens!

From what they’ve told us, HU-MONs must always be so saddened (to this day and forever) about all the unjust persecutions they experienced on other worlds before coming to this planet. Because of our continual solicitude, they’ve kindly suggested we take routine examinations on the sacred Horrorcost Narratives just to make sure we haven’t forgotten, or doubt anything.

On first arrival, they felt a little shy, so they went low profile and pretended to blend in. At least until they felt comfortable and rich enough to start telling us what to think, what we could or could not say.

Because of the enormous profit potential and amusement over HU-MONs marching off to die in war, Ferengi sometimes act a little too excited at parades (but avoid enlistment like the Antares plague). Come to think of it, ever since coming here it’s been one giant war after another, for some reason.

The Ferengi’s most sacred book, Rules of Acquisition written by Grand Manipulator of the M’arks, tells us: “A wise man can hear profit in the wind,” and “once you have their money, you never give it back.” The whole schtick about Socialism is for HU-MON consumption only. How kind.

But as long as they play it cool and don’t get caught, every Ferengi can enrich themselves by selling a few little harmless national secrets on the side.

They tell us that the real God (FerShem) is a Ferengi because they came down from the sky where God also lives. Most still believe this — if you don’t, then you just might be another anti-Ferengite.

The closely-hidden world of Ferengi worship rituals and Sin-a-go-go’s (temples) will always remain mysterious for us ignorant HU-MONs. The Sacred Blue Hat, seen here worn by Grand Liquidator Yagoda, must only be worn on the first Tuesday of the month, except during leap years when it’s only worn on first Mondays from 10am to 2pm, Central Ferengi time.

Here we see a comely Ferengi lass carefully examining each and every hair on the Sacred Red heifer. It must never have more than two white hairs or FerShem will sorely be disappointed. The beast better hope to hell having plenty of white hairs — or his throat ends-up slashed by chanting Ferengi.

Other, less Godly Ferengi were assigned to amuse us with entertaining stage antics.

No party is ever complete without having a handsome Ferengi in attendance.

Ferengi love making ”art house” videos and are always on the lookout to enlist attractive young female HU-MONs to star in them. And the latinum profits are nothing to sneeze at, either.

We gave them an entire section of the country to call their own, but it turns out that FerShem had secretly promised them all the rest.

They hate the terroristic Klingons with a fierce passion and prefer you to take part in the hating. If you don’t, then you must be a hater.

They never could stand it when they saw even nice Klingons on TV acting like they own the place!

The clever Ferengi promised us unbelievable returns on our latinum if they could manage it all for us. Now they continuously print out batches of brightly colored paper called “dollars” for us to use, explaining how much easier it is to carry and store. Coincidentally, this also allows them to print a wee bit extra for themselves on the rare occasion they need it for something.

So then they printed up a huge bunch of this paper and bought-out the media and politicians. Now we get to see them on TV all the time telling us what’s up and what we should do about it. Hooray for our country!

Funny thing: Ever since the Ferengi snapped-up the media, all we now ever see are exposés on slutty HU-MON celebrities; more and more cheap-ass reality shows; sitcoms about idiot HU-MONS; news documentaries on Klingon terrorists and never-ending “newly revealed” Horrorcost stories.

The Klingons are now busy with a French Fry enrichment program and present a real threat to the balance of power for Ferengi fast-food franchise holders. The world had better embargo any more Spud shipments to the Klingon race before it’s too late!

Ferengi love screaming bloody murder about something or other. Often, just for fun. Those Ferengi — gotta love ‘em! Ha, ha, ha… he, he… um.

With our new plasma wide screens, us HU-MONs can readily behold the full majesty of the Ferengi Master Race as they patiently explain to us the “bold realities of the Ferengi New World Order.” Get used to it HU-MON, or be classified across the galaxy as another intolerant hater!

— INCOG MAN