Prepare to be Wrapped Up Like the Intergalatic Gas-Inducing Beef 'n Bean Burrito You Are.

...And I shall stow your tightly bound and mummifying remains in my moon's freezer core - forever! For who would soil their cranial contents by being in the presence of such a vile and stink-dripping creature?

Elect me, Queen Priestess of the Feral Feonixes, and I will work to reduce non-holiday planet consumption to zero by end of the third interstellar triad. If Nunutir were in charge, his careless rate of consumption would mean that there will be no planets for our offsprings' offspring to devour - even on Hallowed Harking's Day!!

You Must All Die Now

I am afraid you are all now meat. Your pathetic Queen Madame of the Whateveryoucallit can no longer shield your worthless husks from this fate so long over due. Yes, lunch time it is. Kiss your planet goodbye, for I, Nunutir of the Fated Galazians have already sunk my iron teeth into its crunchy tectonics.