Prostenic Vogon Jeltz sat irritably in his slimy ill-fitting seat, impatiently awaiting the task of obliterating the planet Earth, which was obstructing a proposed hyperspatial bypass.
His First Officer approached him diffidently, with reason. "We have had a message, Sire, from the planet, warning us that NATO will activate its missile defence shield if we don't clear off."
This was the most interesting event for some time in his career as a destructor of hapless planets.
"What is NATO?"
"We don't know, but the being who sent the message is Anders Fogh Rasmussen."
It meant nothing to Jeltz. What was a Fogh?
"Tell them to launch," he said.
Seconds later his First Officer reported, "There are a number of missiles launched that contain primitive thermonuclear weapons."
"Eliminate them."
The Vogon fleet deployed its array of tractor weapons, Ultimate Death Ray Interceptors, and so forth.
"And?"
"They have been destroyed, Sire."
"Very well," he sighed. "Activate the Destructor Beams."
The Vogon had a slight regret about the Earth - regret being an unfamiliar sensation - that it was too bad about NATO. Somehow, they had been on the right track.
