I Shall Devour You, Kanye West!

I teleported down to your pathetic planet earlier this week to experience one of your "musical concerts" by an Earthling named "Kanye West," and let me tell you this: IT WAS AMAZING! What was amazing about it, you ask? Was it the manible-clenchingly execrable "Earth music"? No! That was TERRIBLE. Was it the set design, which featured the epic and cruel vistas of planets I know to be Exceleton Sigma and TRH-4722? No! I HAVE SEEN THOSE ALL BEFORE. Was it Kanye West himself, your apparent demigod and ruler? No! HE WAS ENTIRELY TOO HUMBLE FOR MY LIKING!

"So what was so amazing about it, High and Exalted Emperor Klaktu?" you ask? Well, I will tell you: HE TOTALLY RIPPED ME OFF.

I am sorry for the caps lock. I get carried away with it when I'm angry. WHICH I AM RIGHT NOW. But still, yes, sorry. EMPEROR KLAKTU RARELY APOLOGIZES!

The "story" of this "concert": This "Kanye West" is a great space explorer who is famed throughout the galaxy. (ODD, THEN, THAT THE MIGHTY EMPEROR KLAKTU HATH NOT HEARD OF HIM!) When Kanye West and his spaceship (which he has ridiculously named "Jane"--but I will admit that this cybernetic transportation entity was not without her charms, especially when one considered it within the reproductive paradigms of the scrumptiously novel realm of bi-gendered humanoid sexuality!) crash on a planet, Jane alluringly informs Kanye West that, while she is rather attractive, does not have enough power to get them offworld. For some reason or other, this leads to Kanye West "rapping" about "mamas" and "drunk and hot girls," which leads to him flying though space due to sheer willpower and talent, and being greeted by a friendly family of bynars, who inform him that he is "the biggest star in the universe." Then he performs coitus with a hologram made of gold and dressed in a bikini.

SOUND FAMILIAR?

Well, it should. When I said that the show was amazing, that is indeed what I meant--AMAZINGLY LIKE MY OWN EXPERIENCES, THAT IS, AND CERTAINLY CLOSE ENOUGH TO THEM TO WARRANT SOME SORT OF COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT-TYPE CASE, OR AT THE VERY LEAST A THOROUGH LASER-SCOURING OF KANYE WEST'S CURRENT PLACE OF EARTHBOUND RESIDENCE! All of this has happened to me! TWICE! Except without the rapping. And I ate the bynars.

Kanye West, I will devour you. I will feast on your succulent flesh and your steaming blood shall drip from my fangs like the sweetest of syrups harvested from the fields of Dantooine. I shall laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and I will pound my holo-matrix table with your femurs, possibly to the admittedly catchy beat of "Diamonds from Sierra Leone."

You will pay, Kanye West! Whether shall choose to pay with your life or with a 20 percent kickback from your merch table, YOU WILL PAY.