Let’s get this out of the way right off the bat: yes, extraterrestrials are real, and yes, they’ve been on Earth for thousands of years, disguised as humans, influencing the way our civilization progresses, both technologically and culturally.

While I can’t speak for these alien species as a whole, Craxtavore, Conqueror of Worlds, is a total dick.

Craxtavore claims to have unlocked the Universe’s secrets and possess infinite knowledge that the human brain is incapable of comprehending, but then why can’t he grasp the concept that he’s not my fucking dad?

Still, I’ll tell you one thing he can’t conquer: the perfect family dynamic that was me, my mom, and my REAL dad.

I can’t believe Mom doesn’t see through his façade. I mean, she has a doctorate from Harvard and is one of the most respected radio astronomers in the world. And yet she can’t see what a loser Craxtavore is?

To be fair, when you earn an epithet like “Conqueror of Worlds,” it connotes a certain level of achievement. And he’s not just Craxtavore, Conqueror of World, he is Craxtavore, Conqueror of Worlds, plural, as in he has conquered not just one world, but MULTIPLE worlds.

And the worst part is, he’s not even evil—everyone in the universe really likes him. The worlds he conquers are those that are under a tyrannical rule. He overthrows the powers that be to restore control to the people. For example, he saved the Turcarvian people from the Warton Corporation, which was planning to hollow out their planet by mining its resources until it collapsed in on itself. Craxtavore destroyed the corporation and allowed the Turcarvians to reclaim complete autonomy of their planet. (Sounds kind of like communism to me, and my REAL dad fought in a little thing called the Vietnam War, but I wouldn’t expect CRAPStavore to know anything about that.)

If you ask me, all this makes him more of a liberator than a conqueror and he just likes alliterations and sounding scary, but that’s beside the point. Still, I’ll tell you one thing he can’t conquer: the perfect family dynamic that was me, my mom, and my REAL dad.

When the possibility of extraterrestrial life is discussed, many non-believers cite the Fermi Paradox as counterevidence, which simply says that if extraterrestrials exist, why aren’t humans constantly observing them? No one wishes the Fermi Paradox were valid more than me, but every morning I wake up and observe an extraterrestrial cooking pancakes in my kitchen, staring at me and saying, “Hey sport, hope you’re hungry for some flat, starch-based breakfast circles.”

First of all, I don’t know what you call them on your home planet, but here on Earth we call them “pancakes.” And second, it’s not like he’s cooking them just to be nice to my mom and me. You can totally tell he’s just doing it because it makes him feel good about himself. He’s so fake, I hate him.

Let me ask you this: would a person who is completely confident in themselves need to drive a spacecraft capable of producing a sea level thrust of 5,000 tons? Seems a little bit of overkill to me, like someone has a touch of an inferiority complex. But what do I know, I’m just an Earthling.

And now my mom is mad at me because I “ruined” Thanksgiving by getting drunk and repeatedly calling Craxtavore “Alf.” Then I kept saying things like, “Oh I see the turkey, but where are the cats? Isn’t that what you people eat?” Mom said that that was racist and asked me to leave the table.

After snooping around Craxtavore’s ship and looking through his data files, I discovered that on Xxxerfahda-04, his home planet, if someone challenges you to a duel on your home soil, by Law of the Ancients, you are forced to accept. I figured that the simplest solution to my problem would be to challenge Craxtavore to a duel on Xxxerfahda-04 and stipulate that the loser must leave Earth forever.

Well, as it turns out, Craxtavore is pretty good at dueling. I should have known that my chances of defeating him were slim given that he is an 8,000-year-old being who is literally called a “conqueror,” and my only combat experience comes from the two months of karate class I took when I was twelve, which I quit because my sensei refused to allow me to wear my socks (my feet get far too cold for this to be acceptable).

During my time banished from Earth, I have learned that the beings on Xxxerfahda-04 are responsible for creating the earliest form of life on Earth that would eventually evolve over millions of years into human life as we know it. So, in a way, Craxtavore and his people are sort of like the creators of human beings.

While I accept this, I will still never call him “dad.”