(Listen to me. I’ve become boring just talking about him.)
Here they are. Smeet’s Rules: The Eighty-Ninth Rule of Acquisition:
“Ask not what your profits can do for you, but what you can do for your profits.”
The Two Hundred Second Rule of Acquisition:
“The justification for profit is profit.”
And the Two Hundred Eighteenth Rule of Acquisition:
“Always know what you’re buying.”
You can wake up now!
Some Rules make good bedtime tales. Then there are those that will put you into a coma …
RULE
#95
While it’s true that most of the wisdom found in the Rules of Acquisition originated in the minds of brilliant Ferengi, on rare occasion outsiders have proven to have the right stuff when it comes to profit.
Take the Breen. Other races know little about this elusive and chilly people. Even we Ferengi do not claim to be experts on Breen psychology, philosophy, or mating rituals. All we know is that they like their tube grubs on ice, their icoberry juice frozen solid, and their holosuite fantasies snowy. Still, if we never learn a single other fact about the Breen, they’ll always be okay by us. After all, they’re the guys who sold us warp drive.
Or to be more specific, one particular guy sold us warp drive. We called him “the Masked Breen” because he never took off the helmet of his spacesuit (of course, neither do the rest of them, but we didn’t know that at the time). The Masked Breen appeared on Ferenginar one cold winter day. He was peddling warp-drive technology, and he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. He was on our world for only two short days, but in that time, he changed our society forevermore. Not only that, he bought our North Pole, our South Pole, seven frozen moons on the outskirts of our solar system, and a half-dozen comets. Now some of you might say that’s a lot to pay for warp drive. But what do we need our arctic wastelands for? They’re cold. It’s bad enough that it rains all the time on Ferenginar. Who needs ice?
The next day, the Masked Breen disappeared, taking with him his moons and comets. The poles are still there. We think.
We’ll never forget the Masked Breen, or the powerful and catchy sales pitch he made. Short and to the point, his laconic, vaguely threatening motto was worthy of a Grand Nagus. Therefore it is only fitting that we immortalized it as a Rule of Acquisition. The only one ever written by a non-Ferengi.
So ponder the words of one brilliant Breen, the Ninety-Fifth Rule of Acquisition:
“Expand … or die.”
To coin a phrase: “Engage!”
RULE
#97
This is the only Rule ever coined by Grand Nagus Untz, also known as Untz the Invisible. Supposedly, Untz dedicated his whole life to profit, focusing on it to such an extent that everything else in his life dropped away. As the story goes, Untz never ate, never drank, never slept, spoke to no one, and saw no one. According to legend, he spent every hour of his life covertly manipulating and controlling the Ferengi economy. How he achieved this remains a bit of a puzzle. After all, by the time he died, it was said that no one had spoken to him in over seventy years.
In fact, there are some Ferengi scholars who claim that Untz never existed. They believe that for his entire reign, Ferenginar had no Grand Nagus at all. And that this Rule is a part of an elaborate cover-up designed to make people believe in Untz.
Still other Ferengi believe Untz never died and is still controlling the Ferengi economy to this day. The No-Untzers and the Eternal-Untzers are so violently opposed to one another that any written statement siding with one or the other invites immediate and deadly reprisal.
Leaving the question, “To Untz or not to Untz?” You decide.
So valid or not, we present to you what is sometimes considered the Ninety-Seventh Rule of Acquisition:
“Enough … is never enough.”
Dead or alive, real or imaginary—you gotta admit, if you’re a Nagus (Max Grodénchik), you’re laughing all the way to the Divine Treasury.
RULE
#99
As you can see, even as a young lobeling, I understood the Ninety-Ninth Rule of Acquisition:
“Trust is the biggest liability of all.”
RULE
#102
Life span of a Misian bogfly: 12 hours
Life span of a tube grub: 10 weeks
Shelf life of a chilled tube grub: 7 months
Time it takes snail juice to spoil: 193 days
Life span of a wooly slug: 12 years
Life span of a wooly slug before the extinction of snailosauri: not very long
Life span of a Snailosaurus: Don’t know. They’re all dead.
Life span of a Grumpackian tortoise (The longest lived organic life-form in the galaxy): 12,000 years
Amount of time it would take a Grumpackian tortoise to circle the DS9 Promenade: 15,000 years
Life span of a Federation hew-mon: Approximately 130 years but seems a lot longer because it’s so boring.
Life span of a Federation hew-mon working for Starfleet security (who for some reason are called red-shirts even though they wear yellow): Rarely survive beyond the second-act break.
Life span of a Klingon warrior: Who cares? Any day is a good day for one of those smelly psychopaths to die.
Life span of a Ferengi: Up to 300 years with proper lobe maintenance.
Shelf life of a bar of latinum: Forever
Shelf life of a strip of latinum: Forever
Shelf life of a slip of latinum: Forever
Do the math yourself, but anyway you figure it, the results will still validate the Hundred Second Rule of Acquisition:
“Nature decays, but latinum is forever.”
Among Ferengi, it’s reassuring to know that your assets will outlive you.
RULE
#104
Since the Rules of Acquisition were written out of order (as I explained in the introduction to my best-selling collector’s item The Ferengi Rules of Acquisition), the label “One Hundred Four” is quite misleading. This Rule was actually the second Rule ever created. (This may be confusing for those of you who haven’t read my other book. Too bad. Go buy it. Or remain confused. It’s up to you.)
In the year 207, Grand Nagus Gint, the first Grand Nagus, the Enlightened Prophet of Greed, died in an unfortunate tooth-sharpening accident. Ferengi worldwide went into a deep, dark depression. Gint had not named a successor. Would he turn out to be the first and only Grand Nagus? All of Ferenginar held its breath to find out.
And then, one day, a voice cried out above the wailing and the weeping. “Fear not,” it said. “Gint will return to us … his mind as sharp as his teeth.” The voice belonged to Yost, a charismatic young Ferengi. Yost insisted that if every single Ferengi purchased a Gint memorial figurine and prayed to it nightly, the Blessed Exchequer would release Gint from the Divine Treasury and allow him to descend back down to Ferenginar.
Yost’s message swept the planet. It is believed that there were approximately three billion Ferengi alive at that time. But archaeologists have uncovered over eight billion Gint figurines. They’re the most common artifact on Ferenginar and are often used to this day as backscratchers (the figurines commonly portray Gint with his arms extended in a gesture of grasping benediction).
But despite this show of pious consumerism, Gint never came back. On the other hand, Yost, who owned a sizable share in the factories manufacturing the figurines, quickly became the richest man on Ferenginar. So rich, in fact, that he himself became the second Grand Nagus. His first official act was to reveal the Hundred and Fourth Rule of Acquisition (or the second Rule, depending on how you count them). And as people came to appreciate the truth of this rule, they realized that in some strange way, Yost had truly embodied the spirit of Gint and was a worthy Grand Nagus indeed.
So in honor of Yost, Gint, and eight billion backscratchers, I present to you the Hundred and Fourth Rule of Acquisition:
“Faith moves mountains … of inventory.”
On Ferenginar, religion and marketing go hand in hand.
RULE
#106
Okay, now let’s play a little game. Take the word “poverty,” and use its letters to make as many other words as you can. To help you out, I’ve given you a few examples.
P O V E R T Y
yet
over
toe
Now you try. When you’re done, check after my picture for the answers.
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
_____________________
The universe may abhor a vacuum, but Ferengi abhor an empty bank account.
ANSWER KEY FOR RULE 106:
P O V E R T Y
over overt per
pert pet pore
port pot prey
prove pry rope
ropey rot rote
rove rye toe
top tor tore
toy trove try
very vet vote
voter yet yore
Now, study this list and consider the wisdom of the One Hundred Sixth Rule of Acquisition:
“There is no honor in poverty.”
RULE
#109
Unlike Klingons, or even hew-mons, Ferengi aren’t a bunch of bloodthirsty barbarians who jump at any chance to start a fight. We’d much rather settle our differences with a heated negotiation than a photon torpedo. But sometimes, people try to take advantage of our good nature. Sometimes, they push us too far.
Take the Lytasians, for example. Now lots of theories have been advanced about what started the Ferengi/Lytasian Conflict. But we Ferengi know the truth. It all started with the worst first contact in history. Or to be more precise, it all started with the Sack Incident.
The first meeting between the Ferengi and the Lytasians took place on the Plateau of Drul, on the Lytasian Homeworld. A delegation of distinguished Ferengi, led by Grand Nagus Zek, met a delegation of Lytasians to extend the hand of friendship and offer them membership in the Ferengi Alliance. As usual, we presented them with the traditional, and very generous, gift of a diamond-encrusted latinum bust of Zek himself. The Lytasians appeared properly impressed and gratified. But when the moment came for them to present their own gift, they revealed the vile core of their nature. They handed Grand Nagus Zek, the most revered man in the Ferengi Alliance, a sack. And inside that sack … was nothing.
The Lytasians claimed their gift was intended as a great compliment. That by handing Zek that empty bag, they were acknowledging that there was nothing they had that he could possibly want. That to give him anything else would insult his dignity.
But Grand Nagus Zek saw through their squeaky-voiced excuses. With utter contempt, he rose to his feet and uttered those nine famous words that totally humiliated the Lytasians and plunged Ferenginar into a grinding, bloody five-year-long interstellar war.
And so I offer you here those nine little words that launched ten thousand ships, immortalized as the One Hundred Ninth Rule of Acquisition:
“Dignity and an empty sack … is worth the sack.”
On the subject of dignity, there’s no disputing the wisdom of Grand Nagus Zek.
RULE
#111
It’s important to keep in mind that the Rules of Acquisition are more than just dry aphorisms gathered in a book. (Though there’s nothing wrong with that. See The Ferengi Rules of Acquisition by Quark as told to Ira Steven Behr.) They’re rich treasure troves of practical advice, which, if followed closely, are sure to improve every aspect of your life. If you don’t believe that, here’s an example of how the Rules work for me:
Dear _____________ (insert name here),
It’s that time of year again. The Bajoran Gratitude Festival is only a few days away. And in keeping with our tradition here at Quark’s, we will celebrate the Festival by allowing you, ______________ (insert name here), to express your Gratitude to me and to Quark’s. I like to think that Quark’s isn’t just my bar … it’s your bar, too. And right now, your bar needs a new coat of paint.
Now I know painting isn’t always fun. And even a bar like Quark’s can be painted in seconds using automated color sprayers. But automated color sprayers are expensive. And besides, think of the satisfaction, the sense of purpose, not to mention the exercise you and customers like you will get by doing the job by hand. And even more than that, think of how it will help ease the burden of guilt that has been weighing so heavily on your shoulders these last few ______________ (fill in appropriate amount of time). I know how miserable you must be knowing that your overdue bar tab, which currently stands at _______________ (fill in amount due), is placing an unnecessary financial burden on me, and on Quark’s.
True, I suppose I could get a couple of Nausicaans to see to the collection of your tab. But the only people who would really enjoy that would be the Nausicaans. And personally if there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a cheery Nausicaan.
Now painting Quark’s won’t forgive your debt. Hell, it won’t even reduce it. But it will make you feel better. A lot better than if you were visited by a Nausicaan. And there’s nothing I like so much as making my customers feel better.
Peldor joi,
Quark, Son of Keldar
Proprietor, Quark’s Bar, Grill, Gaming House, and Holosuite Arcade,
a wholly owned subsidiary of Quark Enterprises, Inc.
Dear Rom,
I’m painting the bar tomorrow. Or to be more precise, you and a bunch of deadbeats are painting the bar tomorrow. Be there.
Your loving brother,
Quark. Son of Keldar
Proprietor, Quark’s Bar, Grill, Gaming House, and Holosuite Arcade,
a wholly owned subsidiary of Quark Enterprises, Inc.
Trust me, by the time they were done, the bar never looked better.
And what do I have to thank for that? The One Hundred Eleventh Rule of Acquisition:
“Treat people in your debt like family … exploit them.”
On Ferenginar, there’s no such thing as brotherly love. Binding financial obligations are another thing entirely.
RULE
#112
Let’s face it…. We’ve all thought about breaking this Rule at one time or another. I mean, almost every boss has one. Usually the family is rich, so there’s the inheritance factor to consider. Plus forbidden fruit is always the most succulent.
But don’t do it.
That’s right. Though your lobes may be aquiver, all tingly and taut, walk away. No matter how beautiful she is, no matter how crooked her teeth, how bulbous her nose, no matter how willing and submissive she might be, it’s not worth it.
“Why?” you may ask? Simple. Because let’s say you do it, and it goes well. Chances are you’re going to want to do it again. And again. And again. And next thing you know, your boss is not only your boss, he’s your brother-in-law as well. And that brings us right back to Rule One Hundred Eleven. Forgotten it already? Why do I bother? Hew-mons are hopeless. Okay, I’ll repeat it so you don’t have to exert yourself by looking it up. “Treat people in your debt like family … exploit them.” Get it?
Probably not. All I can do is try.
But trust me on this one. Don’t ever, under any circumstances, no matter how tempted you might be, forget the One Hundred Twelfth Rule of Acquisition:
“Never have sex with the boss’s sister.”
Being caught with one’s pants down is seldom conducive to acquiring profit, even on Ferenginar.
RULE
#113
Okay, here’s the thing ab
out Rule One Hundred Thirteen, better known as “The Rule that dares not speak its name.” The Ferengi are a male-dominated society. The Rules Acquisition were written by males, for males, and about males. And if that weren’t bad enough, let me just remind you…. There are no female bosses on Ferenginar. And for that matter, no female employees.
I will say no more. The rest is silence.
Thus I record here without further comment the One Hundred Thirteenth Rule of Acquisition:
“Always have sex with the boss.”
Yikes.
“Hamana, hamana, hamana …”
RULE
#121
In the financial history of Ferenginar, there have been many success stories. But few as impressive as that of Vorp and Sluggo, the creators of that ubiquitous beverage with the happy slimy taste … Eelwasser.
Vorp and Sluggo were boyhood friends, boon companions almost since the day their fathers signed the rental agreements on their mothers’ wombs. One of their favorite games was stomping around in the Bowog Bog, just a short jaunt from their home in Upper Bowog Bay. Now Vorp, some would say, was short on brains and long on enthusiasm, not to mention slavishly loyal to the smarter, craftier Sluggo. So whenever Sluggo was in need of a good chuckle (and Sluggo loved to laugh), he would convince Vorp to do something funny, like buying air, or talking to females, or eating a few kilos of sand.
Which brings us to that fateful day in the Bowog Bog when Sluggo saw a particularly fetid pool of burbling muck and told Vorp it looked good to drink. The words were hardly out of his mouth before Vorp got down on his hands and knees and started slurping. Sluggo stood and contemplated Vorp’s prodigious posterior, which was pointed straight up into the air as Vorp bobbed his head to lap at the muck. But before Sluggo could give his friend’s rear a quick kick, Vorp turned back, his mouth slick with slime, and, through algae-stained teeth, uttered those four famous words … “Mmmmm. Tastes like eel.” And thus, Eelwasser was born.
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Lengends of the Ferengi Page 5
