Alien Species

The Vogons are a species of large, spacefaring beings that originated on planet Vogsphere, but later migrated to the Megabrantis cluster, the political hub of the galaxy.


Vogons are robust creatures with domed noses that rise above their foreheads. They have rubbery waterproof green skin which allows them to survive in ocean depths of up to a thousand feet for indefinite periods. This is because the Vogons evolved in such abyssal environments, and by the time they had left the oceans to colonize land, evolution had given up on them, so they remained unchanged.

Culture and society[]


Vogons in their typical habitat.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes the Vogons as "one of the most unpleasant and red-taped races in the galaxy - not actually evil, but bad tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous. They wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without an order, signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters".

According to Marvin, Vogons are the worst marksmen in the entire galaxy and their firearms are not designed for accuracy. They're also infamous for their poetry, which is bad enough to be used as a form of torture.

Dentrassis are employed as catering staff aboard Vogon ships, provided that they keep to themselves. The Dentrassis are perfectly happy with this arrangement, since they love Vogon currency but dislike the Vogons themselves.

Dealing with Vogons[]

What to do if you want to get a lift from a Vogon[]

Forget it.

The best way to get a drink out of a Vogon[]

Stick your finger down his throat.

The best way to annoy a Vogon[]

Feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.

The best way to rescue someone from a Vogon prison[]


What to do if a Vogon wants to read poetry to you[]

Don't let him/her. Ever. Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Milky Way Galaxy, and we will not give you a sample. It's just too horrible.



Billions of years ago, when the Vogons first crawled out of the primeval seas of Vogsphere, laid panting and heaving on the planet's virgin shores... when the first rays of the young Vogsol sun had shone across them... it seemed as if the forces of evolution had simply given up on them then and there, turned aside in disgust and written them off as an ugly mistake. They would never evolve again.

The fact that they did is a testament to the thick-willed stubbornness of these creatures. Evolution? they said to themselves. Who needs it? What nature refused to do for them they simply did without until they were able to correct the gross anatomical inconveniences with surgery.

The natural forces of Vogsphere worked overtime to make up for their blunder. They brought forth scintillating jeweled scuttling crabs, which the Vogons ate, smashing them with large iron mallets; aspiring trees which the Vogons cut down to use the firewood for cooking the crabs; and elegant gazelle-like creatures with dewey eyes which the Vogons would catch and sit on (they were useless for transport because their backs snapped under the weight, but the Vogons sat on them anyway).

Space colonization[]

The planet whirled away for unhappy millennia until the Vogons discovered the principles of interstellar travel. Within a few short Vog years every Vogon had migrated to the Megabrantis cluster, the political hub of the galaxy. They now form the powerful backbone of the Galactic Civil Service. Also, some of the young Vogons join the Vogon Guard Corps, which, aside from making them look moderately less hideous what with dashing uniforms and all that, also allows for exciting promotion opportunities such as Senior Shouting Officer.

Despite their intelligence, they remain little changed since their first appearance billions of years ago. Every year twenty-seven thousand jeweled scuttling crabs are imported, then they while away a drunken night smashing them to bits with iron mallets.

They have as much sex appeal as a road accident.