Human brain is a delicacy to the Grufloppians. Healthier on-planet entrées exist, but none which satisfy Grufloppian stomach receptors like sapien cerebral matter. After millennia of one-off abductions, the Grufloppians acquired technology to cultivate those unmistakably inferior beings and – in a covert mission to Earth – selected an Adam and Eve for the first Grufloppian Human Farm.
Soon – with a splash of Grufloppian hypnosis and hormonal correction – the two multiplied to hundreds and the hundreds to millions. Despite this, humans were given ample space and shelter to reproduce in. Galaxy-class education systems (superior to any on Earth) were implemented so that each brain would reach peak girth and tenderness in twelve Grufloppian sunvoles – roughly twenty-six human years. This is the age, shall we say, of processing.
Knowing all attempts at revolution could be easily quashed, the Grufloppians encourage open discussion on their farms. The humans often use this freedom to analyze their captivity with clear-minded, scholastic precision. Some put forth that it is an honor to serve as nourishment for an intellect so much higher than their own. A few argue for gratitude, as they’d have never existed if not for Grufloppian intervention. Others reason that it’s simply natural selection at play in the cosmos – and that it beats annihilation.
The vast majority, however, denounce their predicament as grotesque, unnecessary, and utterly immoral.