Alien Newscaster Says “Zurchy” On INtergalactic Television

Alien Swearing
– Ziegeildler Zoundsbracket, nightly news anchor for KINT Interstellar News, actually said the word “zurchy” during a live television broadcast last night.

According to Nielsen, approximately 280 trillion beings overheard the foul curse word during the three-minute broadcast, which was directed at KINT’s partner stations in the Milky Way Galaxy some 2.5 million light years away.

It is unknown what prompted Zoundsbracket, a veteran newscaster and KINT’s star anchor for over 50 galactic cycles, to utter such a dirty term out loud on camera.

“He might be having a breakdown,” said camerawoman X-1009, a symbiont intellidroid from the planet Kepler 70-b. “He suddenly quit talking in the middle of the broadcast, which is a big no-no. You think it’s easy to fling these signals across the hideous interplanetary void and straight to your DVR? Well, it ain’t, meatbag. Then he started flicking at his cheeks as if flies were bothering him. Never seen him do that before. Then he came out with the word. The mother of all swear words. The granddaddy of them all. The worst greefing word in the whole mlrixyy universe. The Z-word.”

Whatever the cause, news networks and moral guardians in both galaxies have been up in arms since the disgusting swear word came rocketing in over the space-waves.

“This is unpardonable,” said K’a’l’i’ S’h’c’n’o’k, a denizen of the interstellar dust cloud in Andromeda’s NGC 206 region and mother of three million. “I don’t want my little spores to hear stuff like that. Zoundsbracket’s a pro, he should know better. Whatever issues he’s having at home—methane intoxication, verminous gruots, parthenogenesis, whatever—he needs to keep it under his carapace and do his job properly. Now I have to explain to my kids what the word ‘zurchy’ means. Three million times.”

“In my opinion, this is just another example of the death of journalism,” stated Bill O’Reilly, a fleshy carbon-based ape-descended life form composed mostly of water and native to a chaotic blue-green planet in the Western Spiral Arm of the Milky Way. “People can’t even turn on the TV anymore without their intergalactic news anchors swearing at ‘em. This is just another example of KINT’s unprofessionalism. If they’re going to don the mantle of the universe’s first cross-species, interstellar news network, they’re going to have to take responsibility for the stuff that happens on their watch. I think even Geraldo Rivera will back me up on this one.”

“What do you say, Geraldo?” O’Reilly added.

The repercussions of Zoundsbracket’s indiscretion shall soon be felt. Grand Admiral Yag-Khosha, the great elephant-headed god of the Babylonians, demon-lord of the nether realms, bloody conqueror of the stars and current broadcast director at KINT, made his immense displeasure felt earlier this morning.

“Ziegeildler shall soon know the extent of my wrath,” the enraged titan bellowed, the flames of his ire swirling about him even in the hideous black void of his crystal prison outside our own plane of reality. “Does that puny insect believe he can say ‘zurchy’ at will to young children and old ladies tuning into our nightly broadcasts? What sort of vyuuking universe is this? By the great Pyre of Zarquon, I thought I’d created a more ordered galaxy than that. I’m ordering Zoundsbracket suspended for 30 days, with a performance review to follow. If his act does not coalesce, out upon his ass he shall be.”

“Now bring me some more virgins,” concluded the Grand Admiral.

Zoundsbracket himself declined to comment, and phone calls to his orbital station have not been returned. At press time, the veteran anchor was seen pulling up to the airlock in a low-slung interstellar corvette in the company of Suelandra McGyVee, the Four-Legged, Five-Breasted Whore of the Red Suns, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne brought from the most savage region of the Milky Way.

Andrew T. Post

Andrew T. Post

Andrew T. Post graduated from North Dakota State University in December of 2007, when the weather was so cold that Starbucks was serving coffee on a stick. He took his degree in journalism and put it to good use, penning sententious articles on his blog and works of short science fiction. In early 2012 he packed his bags and sought occupational asylum in the Republic of South Korea, where he lives in a ninth-floor apartment and works as an English teacher. He is a licensed pilot, a classically-trained bartender, and an unapologetic punster whose first novel is currently seeking a venue.