The Manimal

Lazards and Gorgantiles of the planet Zordac, may I introduce to you:
The Manimal! On his poem planet, he butchers whole forests to print
newspapers that leave the reader knowing less than when he started. He
destroys whole jungles in order to make needless packaging for needless
products such as video games and lawn ornaments. In his species, both
men and women are incontent with their natural biology, the men
obsessing to build needless, ackward muscles and the women striving to
be hairless pipsqueaks. They have a curious institution in which they
make rules that require stupidity and spineless to follow and then
imprison those specimens with too much intelligence and integrity to
bow. Rather than turning their technology toward producing space-ships
and Utopian cities, as we have, they construct guns of such a size and
power that has never been on our noble sphere. Then they shoot these at
each other in massive, mutual slaughters over issues as the pigments of
their skins and whether their dictators should call themselves
"Presidents" or "Sultans." Furthermore, rather than having a sensible
mating season, they copulate so frequently and obsessively that there
is hardly time to work to feed the resulting offspring. In his natural
environment, there's no end to the tricks he can do. But, for your
entertainment today, he will perform his most laughable one of all.
Listen closely: He's going to call himself a "rational being."