The Grand Imperial Ambassador of the Zix Sinari Empire endured before the United Nations General Assembly, welcoming periwinkle-colored skin glossy under Earth’s fake illumination. His formal robes, trimmed accompanying ring medals, were clearly intended to impress—but they acted not.
"People of Earth," he disclosed, welcoming the interpreter changing clicks and whistles into fresh English. "I lead the final offer of His Most Luminous and Exponentially Expanding Magnificence, Emperor Ctz the Unpronounceable."
He waited, pregnant gasps of awe. Instead, he caught scarcely restrained sneers.
Annoyed, welcome subordinate alive dents flapped. "Our monumental Empire, ruling over 300 classes across 27,000-star orders, has persistent that your civilization is barely weighty about touching the celestial society. Therefore, we acknowledge stiff antagonism. You have 24 Earth hours to surrender absolutely or face the results."
The Chinese representative nurtured the gift. "Quick question—did you just travel 16 light-age to reveal war 'cause we’re trivial enough?"
"Correct!" The Ambassador's egotistic welcome core. "Your variety responds to tactful overtures accompanying—what you call—memes! You chose your first faster-than-light ship Boaty McBoatface 2: Electric Boogaloo! You shipped the United States of America established educational exchange meaning holding Deez Nuts!"
The Brazilian delegate acknowledged, hardly holding amusement. "With all due respect, Ambassador… you do visualize the sarcasm in this place, right? You’re present, completely discotheque-sphere finery, declaring war 'cause we don’t take belongings critically?"
The American representative inclined forward, smirking. "You ability even call it… a self-achieving prediction."
The Ambassador’s color switched to violet. "This is accurately what we mean! You treat entirety as a joke!"
The Secretary-General wiped tears from welcome eyes. "No, just the humorous belongings. And mate—right immediately, you’re amusing."
As the congregation separated into amusement, the Ambassador rushed out. "You have 24 hours! Choose prudently!"
As the doors closed behind him, the French delegate said, "Don’t overlook click your heels three occasions by way of out!"
And so, Humanity’s first interstellar war began—and it was before a fun of mistakes.
The emergency UN Security Council gathering was due for an individual moment afterwards the Ambassador’s leaving. It endures six hours—but not on account of deadlock administration. They utterly couldn’t stop laughable.
"Order!" The Secretary-General thumped the welcome mallet. "We need an official reaction."
"I intend—" wheezed the German delegate, still snatching welcome hands, "that we transmit bureaucracy a precise proclamation of No U."
The Indian representative, trying to stay weighty, answered, "We should take this considerably dangerously. They do have a fleet."
"A fleet that accepted 16 age to receive in this place," the Mexican delegate identified. "You see what that way? We have 16 age to gird. They present the United States of America ten of something and a half advantage of an early start."
The Japanese representative endured, her face dignified. "I intend we enact the first Earth Defense Force."
Then someone screamed, "Space Force 2: Electric Boogaloo!" The range loses it.
Within hours, #AlienKaren was come near general. TikTok consumers choreographed disco to the Ambassador’s talk, stressing welcome shaking covering for the head. Someone automobile brought into harmony welcome proclamation into a club remix.
The British representative endured. "They asserted war 'cause we weren’t weighty enough. Let’s show the ruling class accurately in what way or manner unserious we can be."
Three hours later, the official UN answer was communicated by way of quantity ideas:
Dear His Most Luminous and Exponentially Expanding Magnificence,
We, people as political whole of Earth, accept your proclamation of war and behave in this manner:
We herewith acknowledge our resolute to wait certainly horrible. We will not surrender, but we will transmit to you our police officer accumulation of puma videos as an expression to attain peace.
The Empire’s knowledge analysts endured composite fearful breakdowns.
"This creates no sense!" Chief Analyst Z’b slapped welcome appendages against the holographic display. "They’re front the gigantic military implant the famous nebula and behaving accompanying—what even is this?!"
"Psychological warfare?" risked Junior Analyst Mx’elp.
Meanwhile, Admiral Vexit, beautified champion of 16 planets, gaped at the welcome information screen, all three eyes jerking. "Can dignitary describe… reason our pilots are taking about 1000 of transmissions querying if their quantity drives are running?"
An anxious assistant emptied welcome neck. "When they behave assenting, the person reply accompanying: ‘Then you better go catch it.’"
The Admiral’s color switched to deep red. "Our reaction?"
"Three ship captains have already wanted dismissal from their job or responsibility. One passive accompanying the note, I cannot do in a military that has enhanced a celestial fool."
Meanwhile, Earth’s Meme Warfare Division started Operation Chaos Comedy. Civilians donated: dignitary played the Proclamation of War in Minecraft. Another interpreted it into UwU talk. Professors wrote semantic documents on the mathematical equating middle from two points the Empire’s pretension and their obvious lack of humorousness.
The Empire’s communication channels were filled. Every Imperial military repetitiveness immediately drunk Never Gonna Give You Up. Propaganda screens granted only cougars go ahead of helmets.
The Secretary-General bent back, beaming. "And so it starts. The Great Meme War of 2024."
Someone in the back began lively The Final Countdown. Within the record, the complete command center had linked in—air guitars contained.
By Day 47 of the war, Imperial self-esteem was fictional. Human memes had defective their will.
Reports drowned in:
Empire-off-course broadcasts were carjacked, immediately indicating results UwU, and thanks for meeting expectations my TED Talk.
Admirals leave afterwards being strained to reply to poggers in official communiqués.
Military AI is insolvent unhappy, and beaten by ideas like Ligma? and Who’s Candice?
Galactic teens rebelled, making "The Order of the Holy Rofl." Their letter? Anfor immorally tense stick figure achievement finger handguns.
The Empire surrendered. Official bargainings accepted place at a flat station, that persons had before renamed Club L.
The harmony treaty—written completely in emojis—became the first tactful document to contain a "Vibe Check" provision.
Historians would later predict The Galaxy’s Greatest Bruh Moment.
And Earth? Earth enhanced the accepted Galactic Meme Lords.