Bliff

The Bliff of Blorf was tired. It had traveled for thousands of light years and so far had turned up nothing at all. Therefore, its relief was immense when sensors detected the tiny spacecraft painfully inching its way to infinity.

The Bliff thought to itself, 'At last, evidence of a newly developed spacefaring world. Another candidate for inclusion in the Galactic Council of Worlds. I should get a fat raise for finding something out here in the middle of nowhere. This is good.'

The Bliff put its PDQ-X1 cruiser into overdrive and arrived at the little blue planet in short order. A stealthy examination program was put into operation. Despite a few peculiarities, the world indeed looked as if it was ready to be given the secret to near-instantaneous interstellar travel.

A decision had to be made as to where the precious information should be put. The little planet had a respectable, if crude, electronic infrastructure; but it could hardly be considered robust enough to trust with such a momentous piece of information. Somewhere else needed to be found for placing the epochal bits of data. Fortunately, there seemed to be a thriving paper technology. The Bliff marveled to itself that such a slow and clumsy method for handling precious documentation could still be in use anywhere.

'Oh well,’ it thought. 'To each their own.’ Now a personage of sufficient power and wisdom must be found who could be allowed to find the priceless mathematical inscribings that would launch an entire world into a wholly new and radically different way of life. Shortly, a suitable personage was located, and via telekinetic inscription the entire data set was safely placed upon one of the special blank paper storage units that so many of these odd creatures seemed to have.

The Bliff smiled inwardly to itself, put the PDQ-X1 into overdrive once more, and was promptly between the stars. When the search program for new worlds ran its course in five hundred years, it would be interesting to return to Zorgon and see how the newcomers had taken to their recent change in circumstances.

Down on the little blue planet, it was springtime in the year 2020, and all looked well.

At the White House, the housekeeping staff was puzzled with the latest memo from the oval office. "Enjoyed the fine patternwork on the last roll of toilet paper" it said, "please continue buying the same kind."

The staff looked into the stockroom at boxes and boxes of plain white toilet paper and scratched their heads. Nobody had the faintest idea what the president was talking about.