The Vogons are an alien race from the planet Vogsphere who are responsible for the destruction of the Earth, in order to facilitate an intergalactic highway construction project for a hyperspace express route. Vogons are vaguely humanoid, have a Pear-shaped build, are bulkier than humans, and have green skin, described as having "as much sex appeal as a road accident" as well as being the authors of "the third worst poetry in the universe". They are employed as the galactic government's bureaucrats. According to Marvin the Paranoid Android, they are also the worst Marksmen in the galaxy.
Description in the GuideEdit
They are one of the most unpleasant 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 enquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters. If you want to get a lift from a Vogon, forget it. They are vile and ill tempered. If you want to get a drink from a Vogon, stick your finger down his throat. If you want to annoy a Vogon, feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.
History of the VogonsEdit
Billions of years ago, when the Vogons first crawled out of the primeval seas of Vogsphere, lay 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. They shouldn't have survived. 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 such time as they were able to rectify the grosser anatomical inconveniences with surgery.
The natural forces of Vogsphere worked overtime to make up for their blunder. They brought forth scintillating jewelled scuttling crabs, which the Vogons ate, smashing them with large iron mallets; aspiring trees which the Vogons cut down to use as firewood for cooking the crabs; and elegant gazelle-like creatures with dewy 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).
The planet whiled 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 a billion billion years ago. Every year twenty-seven thousand jewelled 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.