Okay, now wash both hands carefully before proceeding. Then, raise your left hand to your left lobe and your right hand to your right lobe and recite this following sacred Ferengi oath.
We’re waiting. Okay, here goes:
“I, (state your name), do hereby swear, to never, under any circumstances, correctly quote this rule to any non-Ferengi. (That’s right, this one too.) Furthermore, I swear, under penalty of abstention from oo-mox for as long as I live, that even under extreme duress, even if l’m being force-fed root beer by a demented hew-mon, I will maintain that the Seventeenth Rule of Acquisition, the other most sacred of all Ferengi precepts, is …
“‘A contract is a contract is a contract.’
“This is the rule we live by. Honest. We promise. Why would we lie? You’re bigger and twice as irrationally violent as we are.”
Done? Good. That’s settled. Now feel free to contemplate the magnificence of the Seventeenth Rule of Acquisition:
Which clearly states:
“A contract is a contract is a contract … but only between Ferengi.”
Have you ever seen two more honest-looking faces?
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#18
Back in the days before Ferenginar purchased warp drive, before the Ferengi became the most important economic power in the known universe, there lived a Ferengi named Frinx. He manufactured the first fully automatic waste extractor (hence the expression, “Excuse me, I have to take a Frinx.”) and was a very profitable Ferengi indeed. But one day, Frinx changed. He stopped caring about profit, neglected his business, and spent all his time traveling the planet, doing topographical surveys of its prominent features.
Eventually, this behavior generated suspicion. An intrepid agent of the F.C.A. named Stoonk began investigating Frinx. Eventually Stoonk realized the frightening truth. Frinx was not Frinx. The waste-extraction entrepreneur had been replaced by a hideous alien intelligence bent on the conquest of Ferenginar. The topographical surveys were an excuse to search for suitable landing sites for the invasion fleet.
The alien spy was unmasked in the nick of time. Ferenginar was saved, the false Frinx was held for a sizable ransom, and Stoonk confiscated the waste-extraction business and turned it back into a going concern (hence the expression, “What a Stoonk.”).
After his success, the ever-vigilant Stoonk coined the Eighteenth Rule of Acquisition:
“A Ferengi without profit is no Ferengi at all.”
If you suspect a phony Ferengi (Ethan Phillips), touch his lobes. If his eyes don’t roll up into his head in ecstasy, he’s either a ringer, or he’s dead.
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#19
Besides being the Nineteenth Rule of Acquisition, the aphorism “Satisfaction is not guaranteed” can be found printed on literally every item manufactured on Ferenginar including this one. Right here. So deal with it.
And never forget the Nineteenth Rule of Acquisition:
“Satisfaction is not guaranteed.”
Please direct any complaints regarding this publication to somebody else. The author accepts no responsibility for its content.
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#21
An excerpt from the ancient medical text: Guarding Your Investment, Keeping Your Children Profitable, by Doctor Posck of the Ferengi Wellness Institute:
In our last chapter we dealt with the problem of excessive, compulsive oo-moxing in male children, ages one to seventeen. Now we must turn our attention to one of the most stressful events in any young Ferengi’s life, the Attainment Ceremony. Parents, relax. Rest assured that the ceremony is largely a formality. When given the choice between spending time with a friend, or receiving a bar of gold-pressed latinum, no Ferengi lad in recent history has passed up the bar. Your son will make the right choice, too. All we suggest is that you make sure that the ceremony is held in a well-lit room, that both the friend and the bar of latinum are equidistant from your child, that the friend is strapped down and gagged to allow an unbiased outcome, and that the bar of latinum is placed at an angle that makes it as shiny as possible.
We highly discourage the use of the Southern Ferenginar version of the Attainment Ceremony. While watching your child and his best friend actually fight over the bar of latinum may be entertaining (and profitable when you run the betting pool), injuries are frequent and can be costly with regard to the long-term growth of your investment.
One final piece of advice. If your child fails the test, DON’T TELL ANYONE! Just bribe everyone present to forget what they’ve seen and have your son repeat the test as many times as necessary until he gets it right.
Good Luck!
This quote from Posck’s centuries-old text (still available for purchase at your local scrollmonger) shows that even from the beginning of Ferengi history, our people knew the fundamental truth of the Twenty-First Rule of Acquisition:
“Never place friendship above profit.”
Greed isn’t genetic. It has to be learned. Teach your children well.
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#22
Back in the dark times of the Barter Age when Ferenginar was divided between tiny warring Commerce Zones, there lived a wandering troubadour named Lonz. A loner owing his commercial loyalty to no one, Lonz travelled the length and breadth of Ferenginar, armed with only his trusty nose flute. It is said that even the participants in the most violent of hostile takeovers would pause to listen to Lonz, known to his fans everywhere as Old Golden Nostril.
By far, his most famous song, a tune that any Ferengi can sing to this day, was the beautiful ballad, “The Wind in My Ears.”
Listen … To what’s blowing on the wind.
Aaa ooo aaa ooo
A wise man can smell it on the breeze.
Aaa ooo aaa ooo
You can hear it through the rain,
You can hear it on the plain,
And once you hear it,
You’ll never be the same.
Yeah yeah yeah.
[nose flute solo]
What is it, that’s blowing on the wind?
Aaa ooo aaa ooo
If you stop talking, maybe you’d hear it, too.
Aaa ooo aaa ooo
Profit, that’s what I’m saying.
Profit, what the wind is playing.
Profit, that’s what I’m earning.
Profit, now your lobes are burning.
So listen … to what’s blowing on the wind.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Stop talking and you can hear it, too.
Lonz retired from travelling at the ripe old age of one hundred five, after amassing a great fortune and fathering a record number of illegitimate children.
Old Golden Nostril was forever immortalized by the Twenty-Second Rule of Acquisition:
“A wise man can hear profit in the wind.”
On a clear, quiet night (and for a modest fee), a Ferengi can hear the Blessed Exchequer counting latinum in the Divine Treasury.
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#27
It is with a heavy heart that we find ourselves telling the grim tale of Drek, May His Name Live in Infamy. It’s hard to believe that the worst villain in Ferengi history started his life as a simple cobbler in the tiny mountain village of Popodoopopop. His reasons remain a mystery, but one thing is certain: Shortly after taking over his father’s boot shop, Drek, May His Name Live in Infamy, slashed his prices and began selling footwear at a meager one percent above cost. To add to his sins, Drek M. H. N. L. I. I., created boots of a higher quality than any ever seen on Ferenginar. A single pair of boots made by Drek M. H. N. L. I. I. could last as long as twenty years. Soon, barefoot Ferengi worldwide were travelling to Popodoopopop to get shod.
Other bootmakers were forced to lower their prices and raise their quality to compete with Drek M. H. N. L. I. I. The subsequent run on slither eel hide caused the complete extinction of that most noble of nematodes, the collapse of the hide market, and the utter ruination of thousands of hardworking eel wranglers. And though Drek himself soo
n died (a shoehorn was found “accidentally” lodged in his throat at the annual bootmakers’ convention), the boot market never recovered. The collapse spread to the garment market, then triggered a chain reaction which in a matter of months dragged the entire economy of Ferengi into the worst depression since the Great Monetary Collapse of 9315.
It took almost a hundred fifty years before the economic devastation was finally checked. In the meantime, millions of honest Ferengi found themselves utterly destitute, and all because one madman insisted on selling quality merchandise at a fair price.
So never forget the dire warning of the Twenty-Seventh Rule of Acquisition:
“There is nothing more dangerous than an honest businessman.”
There’s only one kind of businessman more dangerous than this….
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#31
A good insult is a thing of beauty, a work of art that endures long after its crafting. Following are ten of the most famous insults in Ferengi history
1. You couldn’t memorize a Rule of Acquisition if it were tattooed to your forehead.
2. You have the business sense of a human. And the body odor of a Klingon.
3. Your house is so tiny you have to leave it to change your mind.
4. Your wife wears clothing.
5. And for five more slips, I’ll sell you Ferenginar.
6. When you were born, your father slapped his accountant.
7. You’re so stupid, you went into the Bajoran Wormhole looking for tube grubs.
8. Your nose is so tiny, you snort beetle snuff one grain at a time.
9. You’re so ugly, you have to wear your headskirt in front of your face.
10. Your lobes are so small you can oo-mox with one finger.
If you decide to forgo the classics, please keep in mind the Thirty-First Rule of Acquisition:
“Never insult a Ferengi’s mother … insult something he cares about instead.”
“Moogie.” (Andrea Martin)
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#33
To my beloved Publisher,
It is with much pleasure that I thank you for the latinum delivered to me as an advance on the forthcoming Legends of the Ferengi. In return, I am delighted to deliver this, the commentary on the Thirty-Third Rule of Acquisition. I’d like this opportunity to say, for the record, what an honor it’s been to work for you. To say that your treatment of me has been fair and equitable would be a vast understatement. I am in awe of your fairness, your good judgment, and your business acumen. I also think you are as attractive as you are wise. Your lobal cartilage is truly magnificent, and the texture of your nose wrinkles denotes a wealth of olfactory instinct.
Please note that when I said I was being paid less than a starving vole merchant and I wouldn’t write this book if you held a phaser to my head, it was just a jocular expression of good fellowship. Subsequent remarks that your royalty statements were steaming stacks of lying worm dung were made while I was recovering from a severe ear infection and under prescribed medication.
And so I end this missive groveling in the hope that you will find my meager scratching fit for publication and further financial remuneration. May your publishing empire continue to grow and may your latinum shine forever.
Respectfully yours,
Quark, Son of Keldar
Just a reminder from the people who brought you the Thirty-Third Rule of Acquisition:
“It never hurts to suck up to the boss.”
Some would call this groveling. To a good businessman, it’s tactical. It also impresses the females. Note the admiration in Pel’s (Hêlen Udy) eyes.
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#34 and #35
Some of the most exciting by-products of the Ferengi-Lytasian Conflict (18101-18105), the only interstellar war ever fought by the Ferengi Alliance, are the numerous and highly collectible souvenir merchandise produced to bolster morale. Some notable examples:
“Lytasians Break Wind” Headskirts. Original Price 1.65 strips of latinum, current value 22.94 strips.
“Marauder Mo, Hero of Ferenginar” Action Figure. Original Price 5 strips of latinum, current value 94.75 strips.
“Marauder Mo, Hero of Ferenginar” Action Figure in original stasis box with “Marauder Mo” Plastic Plasma Whip. Current value 572.5 strips.
“Rally Round the Latinum, Boys” Audio Recording by the Loog Twins. Originally 10 strips of latinum, current value mnt 12,302, nr-mnt 8,992, ex 7025, vg 3021.
“Loose Lips Sink Starships” Poster. Originally distributed free of charge by the Ferengi Morale Office (FerMO), current value vf 1200, f 650.
Oddly enough, the end of the war brought its own series of highly prized collectibles. Among the most sought after items are:
“Hug a Lytasian” Headskirts. Original Price 2.15 strips of latinum, current value 20.5 strips.
“Relief Worker Mo, Rebuilder of Lytasia” Action Figure. Original Price 15 strips of latinum, current value 172.25 strips.
“Relief Worker Mo, Rebuilder of Lytasia” Action Figure in original stasis box with “Relief Worker Mo” Plasma Decoupler and complete set of Self-Sealing Stem Bolts. Current value 2390 strips.
“All We Are Saying … Is Give Lytasia a Chance” Audio Recording by the Toob Wyrms. Originally 12.3 strips of latinum, current value mnt 10,950, nr-mnt 7300, ex 5592, vg 1003.
“Invest in Lytasia, Resort World of the Future” Poster. Originally distributed free of charge by the Lytasian Redevelopment Fund (LyReF), current value vf 34, f 12.
The authors of this book currently have all of the above in stock and will consider any reasonable offer.
All of which only goes to prove the Thirty-Fourth Rule of Acquisition:
“War is good for business,”
and its corollary, the Thirty-Fifth Rule of Acquisition:
“Peace is good for business.”
War or peace—it’s all the same to a Ferengi. As long as there’s profit—or at least oo-mox with a female (Mary Kay Adams)—at the end of it.
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#40
Ferengi are a busy people. And busy people don’t have time to read. Or write. And let’s face it, you could fill a black hole with the number of writers who have starved to death through lack of latinum. So there aren’t a lot of books on Ferenginar. Oh, every Ferengi household has at least one copy of the Rules of Acquisition. But that’s a religious tome and doesn’t really count. (Modesty prohibits us from mentioning that with the publication of the Legends of the Ferengi there now will be two required texts in every Ferengi home.) As far as Ferengi recreational reading is concerned … forget it. In a culture where holosuites are everywhere and literacy is a pricey educational option, books just don’t cut it. With one notable exception: The infamous The Arduous Journey of T’lana on the Road to Enlightenment, or Vulcan Love Slave. By Anonymous.
Theories abound concerning the true identity of the author of this towering literary achievement. Some credit Grand Nagus Zek, others the Vulcan poetess T’vora, who actually did visit Ferenginar the year before V.L.S. was published. But those in the know, and there are more of them than you might think, put their money on Ferenginar’s most respected holodrama critic, Iskel the Unimpressed. True, his review of V.L.S. was scathing, insulting, and vitriolic, but not long after he called V.L.S. a “tawdry, excessively sexual, puerile exercise appealing to the lowest value of the common gutter Ferengi,” book sales soared. Get it? Iskel’s bad review powered sales of the book as surely as warp engines power starships, and months later Iskel retired, suddenly and inexplicably one of the richest men in the Ferengi Alliance.
For those of you less enlightened than T’lana, we offer up the book’s famous final passage:
Shmun placed a tube worm in the corner of his mouth and slowly sucked it up past his full, cruel lips. He stared flat-eyed at T’lana, her nubile Vulcan form backlit by the open window. She inhaled deeply, her breasts rising as her chest filled with the moist, fecund air of Ferenginar. He could see the hunger in her fac
e as she turned to him, her well-shaped pointed ears tensing with desire.
“You saved my life,” she whispered.
“I only accept payment in latinum,” Shmun smirked.
T’lana melted under his arrogant gaze. “I love you,” she said. “Will you accept a bank draft?”
Shmun knew then that she was his. Licking away the last few drops of worm juice from his lips, Shmun strode confidently forward, sweeping her into his arms. “Everything’s negotiable, Bright Eyes,” he sneered.
T’lana reached down, and with one hand, stroked his burning left lobe. “My Shmun,” she purred. Shmun pressed his body against hers. As her delicate fingers teased his lobe, he could feel her free hand crawling like a Romulan fire spider down his body. Her nails raked his thigh. Shmun stiffened as he felt her hand close warmly and squeeze tightly around his money pouch. “Nice try,” he snickered, and with a mighty heave, he lifted T’lana up into his arms, took one step forward, and hurled her out the window.
T’lana’s eyes widened as enlightenment hit her seconds before she hit the pavement.
As fine an example of the Fortieth Rule of Acquisition as we’ve ever seen.
“She can touch your lobes, but never your latinum.”
Mixing greed and oo-mox is high-risk behavior. Play it safe.
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#41
A long time ago, (longer ago than the parable in Rule One, but not as long ago as the story for Rule #223), on the vast rolling plains of Splort, there lived a Ferengi wooly slug herder named Nix. Now those were the days when being a wooly slug herder really meant something. A simpler, freer time, when Ferengi slugboys rode the plains astride their noble … well actually, they weren’t astride anything. Wooly slugs are slow-moving and docile creatures who’ll do pretty much anything you want if you kick them hard enough. Still, it was a time before Ferengi had met Klingons so they thought slugboys were pretty tough. It was in the days before replicators, before fences, before wooly slug steak was discovered to be a breeding ground for vile and dangerous parasites, when slug herding was big business, and Nix was the biggest slug herder of them all.
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Lengends of the Ferengi Page 2