Las Vegas: Vogons Ban Dice for Being “Too Poetic in Shape”
Replacements are 17-sided bureaucracy cubes that never roll evenly.
LAS VEGAS, NV – In a shocking development that has left casino floors eerily quiet and gamblers scratching their heads, the notoriously bureaucratic Vogons have officially banned traditional dice from all Las Vegas gaming establishments, declaring them “offensively poetic in their geometric perfection.”
The ban, implemented through a series of incomprehensible forms filed in triplicate with the Nevada Gaming Commission, went into effect last Tuesday when a fleet of yellow Vogon Constructor Ships descended upon the Strip, their speakers blaring administrative announcements that caused several tourists to flee in terror.
“It was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever witnessed,” said Marlene Kowalski, a retired accountant from Duluth who was playing craps at the Bellagio when the Vogons arrived. “These hideous creatures in brown uniforms started measuring our dice with strange instruments, muttering about ‘dangerous aesthetic symmetries’ and ‘unauthorized artistic expression in mathematical objects.’ Then they confiscated every die in the building and replaced them with these nightmarish gray lumps.”
The replacement “bureaucracy cubes” are reportedly 17-sided polyhedrons crafted from compressed paperwork and disappointment. Casino insiders describe them as “aggressively ugly” and “designed to crush the human spirit.” Unlike traditional dice, which roll with elegant randomness, these new implements seem to defy the laws of physics by never producing fair outcomes.
Sources within the Vogon Prostetnic Administration Office (VPAO) confirm that the ban stems from a recently discovered loophole in Galactic Regulation 47-B-9932, which prohibits “objects of unintended beauty” from being used in commercial establishments throughout the universe. Traditional six-sided dice, with their perfect cubic symmetry and pleasing proportions, apparently violated seventeen different sub-clauses related to “accidental artistic merit.”
Dr. Reginald Pemberton III, a professor of Xenological Studies at the University of Nevada, has been studying the Vogon occupation with growing alarm. “This isn’t just about dice,” he warned in an exclusive interview. “The Vogons view any form of aesthetic pleasure as a threat to proper bureaucratic order. They’re systematically removing beauty from human recreational activities. Yesterday it was dice, tomorrow it could be playing cards, slot machines, even the decorative carpeting.”
The new bureaucracy cubes have created chaos throughout the city’s gaming industry. Craps tables have been abandoned as the misshapen objects roll in unpredictable patterns, often coming to rest balanced on impossible angles or simply refusing to move at all. Several cubes have reportedly filed formal complaints against players for “excessive enthusiasm” and “inappropriate use of probability theory.”
Casino executives are scrambling to adapt to the new reality while Vogon inspectors patrol the floors with clipboards, measuring everything from cocktail napkins to showgirl headdresses for signs of “dangerous prettiness.” The Venetian has already received citations for “excessive architectural whimsy,” while the Luxor’s pyramid shape has been deemed “geometrically problematic.”
Underground resistance movements have begun forming among Las Vegas dealers and pit bosses, with secret dice hidden in safety deposit boxes and clandestine craps games reportedly taking place in abandoned warehouses on the city’s outskirts. The Nevada Gaming Commission, overwhelmed by Vogon paperwork, has been unable to respond to inquiries, as their offices are buried under mountains of forms requiring approval for basic human activities like breathing and existing.
Tourism officials fear the Vogon occupation could spell doom for Las Vegas’s economy, as visitors flee the city’s increasingly joyless atmosphere. Hotel occupancy rates have plummeted as guests check out early, unable to tolerate the constant administrative announcements and mandatory beauty-inspection checkpoints.
As the situation continues to deteriorate, residents and visitors alike wonder: what will the Vogons target next in their relentless campaign against accidental aesthetics?
The characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is unintentional and purely coincidental.
