Gwalg, a watery planet in the Vlachh system, has long been known for its principal exports: exotic seafood, law enforcement personnel, and Gwalgian herpes.

It was a world that beings knew about, but it was never the kind of world that you went to, unless your job required it. But recently, and much to the surprise of pretty much everyone, Gwalg has experienced a major upswing in tourism.

It all started when StarQuest, a conglomerate of intergalactic real estate concerns, found itself in possession of several long stretches of virgin Gwalgian coastline after buying out a failing fishery management firm.

This led to the creation of several resort hotels and a robust intergalactic ad campaign touting Gwalg as a dream vacation destination. Vacation planners, travel agents, and timeshare salesbeings around the multiverse began showing their clients gorgeous photos of violet sand beaches, flaming twin sunsets, and well-oiled models lounging in sparkling swimming pools. They passed out glossy brochures featuring pictures of steaming platters of Gwalgian seafood and showed holovids of colorful but clumsy Gwalgian dancers.

And the best part: StarQuest had priced these luxurious resort stays at just over half the going rate for a holiday on the more popular beach resort planets of Floriana and Dolphine. And with commercial starliners docking regularly on Gwalg to load exotic seafood and unload herpes medications, there were plenty of cheap travel fares from multiple interstellar departure points.

But Gwalg may not be the planet of touristic delights that StarQuest would have us believe. If you are considering a visit to Gwalg, or if, gods forfend, you have already purchased tickets, here are five things you should know BEFORE traveling.

1. Everything on Gwalg smells like pea soup.

The chemical makeup of Gwalg's atmosphere is just one molecule off from the steam that wafts off of hot pea mush with ham bits mixed in. It's not bad at first, if you like pea soup. Some beings have said that the all-encompassing aroma creates a wholesome, homey feel for those first disembarking on Gwalg. For those (sane) people who find pea soup odor to be one of the more disgusting smells in the multiverse, be advised: nose plugs are an absolute necessity when vacationing on Gwalg. Or, even better, a gas mask and a full-body prophylactic suit. The stench does not abate, even in the air conditioned resort suites. It affects the taste of the scrumptious-looking seafood, and is unlikely to wash out of your hair or fur for weeks after you return to your home planet.

2. The beautiful Gwalgian oceans have thirty billion different ways to kill you.

Did you know that Gwalgian fishing platforms are built at least sixty feet above the water's surface? This is to protect fisherbeings from a deadly encounter with the giant flying piranha. So you might want to keep out of the water. And off the beach. And pretty much just stay in your hotel suite with the windows shut.

Giant flying piranhas aren't the only killer hiding in Gwalgian seas, however. Far from it. You should also be wary of razor tooth flounders, poisonous crabs, and drowning reeds--a type of carnivorous seaweed that entangles its victim's appendages in order to pull the being to its death.

Flesh-eating plankton, anyone?

3. Everything is illegal on Gwalg.

Did we mention that Gwalg has a perennial surplus of law enforcement personnel? It's true. In fact, 53% of the cops in the multiverse are Gwalgian. And on Gwalg itself, over three quarters of the population are directly or indirectly employed in policing. Experts agree that the Gwalgian psyche is particularly suited to careers in law enforcement due to its obsession with rules, its unquestioning sense of obedience to authority, and its adoration of shiny badges. This should be a huge red flag for any being considering entering into a marriage, business arrangement, or handshake with a Gwalgian.

This cultural propensity for authoritarianism has lent itself well to a planetary system of niggling regulations and ordinances. Tourists are especially prone to running afoul of Gwalgian law, due to their unfamiliarity with flamchukarg, a cultural attitude that can be roughly translated as "don't do anything, and you won't go to jail."

Among the ever-lengthening list of items that could land you in a Gwalgian prison are: cigarettes, alcohol, pocket knives, zippered jackets, onions, and anything made out of superstrength alloy or painted a certain shade of yellow. It is also wise to avoid whispering, skipping, reading certain alternative newsfeeds, telling jokes, and sunbathing outside of approved zones.

4. Gwalgians are not interested in your funny story.

If you were looking forward to getting to know some native Gwalgians during your trip, just don't.

Even apart from their unbearable narc-iness, Gwalgians are thoroughly unpleasant beings. They are unfriendly, suspicious, and almost universally lacking in the sense of humor department. They do not want to give you directions or teach you a few phrases of Gwalgian, and if you ask them to take a photo of your smiling family, they will probably spit at you and then arrest themselves for breaking the Planetary Decree Against Spitting.

5. Gwalg is NOT your soulworld.

Lifestyle Disembarkers beware! If you are roving the multiverse, searching for the planet whose resonant frequency "clicks" with you, just leave Gwalg off your list.

Gwalg is not your soulworld. Gwalg is not anyone's soulworld. It is a soulless world, home to a soulless people. All you will get for your time and effort is a case of Disembarkation Sickness, a suitcase permeated with the smell of pea soup, and probably a summons to appear in Gwalgian court on charges of overeating or of scratching your ass without a permit.

Malphian Junket lives and writes in the rainbow-glass mountains of his soulworld, Gorfin-3, where the electric flying tortoises never stop singing. He has disembarked upon 43 planets in his lifetime, and Gwalg was the absolute worst.

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Thank you for reading!

Stay tuned for more. I publish Intergalactic Clickbait articles each Wednesday!

Hi! I'm Leslie Starr O'Hara, but my friends call me Starr. I live in the mountains of North Carolina and I write funny science fiction and satire here on Steemit. Follow me if you want to laugh your britches off!