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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Lakeel100 on 2025-11-05 05:19:38+00:00.
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—
Tobby was in hell. A special kind of hell. Not the blackjack and hookers kind of special, but the kind devised by a sadistic god of social interaction that preyed on introverts. One where you’re given good food, a comfy booth, classical music, and a pair of shi bringing up every cringe moment you’ve ever had.
At least the line to the buffet table was nonexistent… It seemed weird that a fish known for its likeness to crab meat could taste better than the real thing. That might be just him, though… Plus, no shells! The only reason he picked the imitation crab was because it was one of the few things he recognized in the selection. His knowledge of human foods wasn't vast, but he was sure this one was safe for Shahsian consumption. Probably…
“Oh, did he tell you he tried out for the school’s bap-tal team?” Pinky asked from his left, slightly leaning on Tobby in the booth as she carried on the conversation like its subject wasn't sitting right next to her.
Leaning onto his right side in a similar position was Soapy, visibly just as entertained by his suffering as Pinky was. “Actually, I think he mentioned it when I was helping him get his gloves on for our match.”
Pinky snickered, giving Tobby a nudge. “You had her help you get your gloves on?”
“I didn’t know how. Hard to remember when you haven't worn a set in years.” Tobby grumbled defensively, trying his darndest to focus on the food instead of this whole conversation.
“Was that before or after your mom asked me to drag you kicking and screaming to tryouts?”
“Whatever undermines your story more, I still feel betrayed about that by the way.” He grumbled louder, ears going flat to the side, clearly unamused, remembering how one-sided the bap-tal tryouts had been.
Soapys winced a bit sympathetically, but still seemed amused. “It went that bad, huh? Get his tail handed to him?”
Pinky nodded, “He was so afraid of getting hit, his arms were black with glove marks by the time try-outs were over.”
“I was not!” His ear flicked, totally not having flashbacks to how all the water in the bath he took after turned black from the sheer volumes of smudge marks.
“That does explain why your first reaction when we fought was to put your arms up.” Soapy thought aloud, looking up at the roof like the memory of their fight was somehow up there.
“It’s okay, I got enough petty vengeance on his behalf to make up for it.” Pinky said, folding her arms and nodding proudly.
Soapy leaned in a bit closer, curiosity visibly peaked. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hear something about petty vengeance?” She asked, looking all too eager about the subject now.
“I’d hardly call it petty…” Tobby pouted between the two pretty shi. “She slept with a guy’s brother just so she could bash him in the bits the next day and tell him: ‘his brother’s was bigger.’”
While Soapy looked momentarily surprised, Pinky simply shrugged, still plenty proud of her actions. “What can I say? I do love me some emotional damage.”
“Yeesh.” Soapy cringed a bit at the mental image. “Did you kick him while he was down, at least?”
Tobby would have been impressed if Pinky hadn’t. “Yes, she did. And that was-” Tobby's head snapped over towards Soapy, not believing his ears. “What do you mean, at least!? She was assaulting people for being mean to me.”
“I’m sure they… probably deserved it?” Soapy shrugged, trying to sound plaintive but coming off more like she couldn't believe it herself. Her eyes, though, looked past him to where Pinky was sitting. Then came the stifled snicker of doom.
Oh no, he was not getting ambushed again! His head snapped the other way, expecting Pinky was about to honk his ears again, only to see stands of imitation crab disappearing into her mouth. He glanced down at his place, noticing some was missing. “Hey! You have legs, don't you? Get your own! The buffet table’s literally right over there,” he protested, pointing to the buffet with one hand while pulling the plate away from her with the other.
Pinky looked guilty as sin for all of 0.3 seconds before she snickered around a mouthful of his pseudo-crab!
Tobby’s head snapped the other way to see that his plate was now even emptier. He’d question where it went if not for Soapy daring to whistle innocently after she swallowed.
He was being mugged; worse, he was being tag-teamed. He pulled his ever-diminishing plate away again, but before he had time to scold Soapy, he sensed a disturbance and turned back to Pinky to see even more of his fake crab missing. “Quit it! I got these for me!” He growled, moving the plate again.
Every time he looked to one to scold them away from his food, the other struck, snatching another strip of his proxy-crab. He may not win this battle… but this meant war!!
—
Meanwhile… across the room.
To say the government didn't have a vested interest in the comings and goings of the sha-kai would, at best, be public grandstanding, and at worst, crippling naivety. That being said, the Populi needn’t be the only governing tribe sinking its teeth into the bounty of human relations.
Bounty was the Mercanti’s domain, and Representative Noideen (Noy-deen) was here to ensure it remained so. “I’m honestly unsure if I’d want the blitz to end. The scare has pushed profits to the highest they’ve been in years. Think we can convince the lizards to slow down a little?” She jested with a laugh that gave an air of practiced haughtiness.
The Sha-kai bosses gathered around chuckled along politely, while the humans had a bit of a delay, their translators likely still adapting to converting Shasian standard into one of their numerous dialects and vice versa. She couldn’t hold it against them; learning new languages was hard, and the bald apes had so many languages she couldn't guess how anyone kept up.
“True, those ancient space lizards forcin’ everyone to cash out like this is really crunchin’ me time tables,” a pale one with the orangish fur patch on his head said, his attire reminding her a bit of what those voidling pirates fancy wearing. “Me ships runnin’ hot day n’ night trying to make as many trips as possible. But I got to say, my checking account ain't ever looked so pretty.”
Another darker one gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Sure would save you lots of time if ya just pre-cooked them there woolie’s ‘ey? All yer’ sheep ‘dere are just gonna get cooked when they get here anyway.”
“Oi, them xenos pay out the ass for fresh meat. Ain't notin’s fresher than alive, so I’ll happily take five light-years off me top speed to keep my sweater factories comfy. Ya maple rasta-drum halfbreedin’ bastard.” Ah, casual racism, good to know humans have it too.
“Oh, don’t gimmie dat half-breedin’ shit dere bud. All you fellas on Wales 3 and 4 barely break past a quarter Welsh. But I’ll be damned if when you settle Wales-God-Damn-5 if it ain't almost entirely made of splicers.” Ah, competitive raceism… good to know humans have that too…
“I do have to admit, mutton is good… especially lamb,” Noideen said, choosing to diffuse the situation before it devolved into a brawl. “If only it were legal in the GC, then we could do our business out in the open.” She shook her head in faux disappointment. “Then again, that would only tank the value of the product. And we can't have that now, can we?”
“As enticing as cashing out might be, I’d actually like to see how you cats intend to fend ‘em off.” Said the pale one, she’d get his name eventually, if not solely for the sake of having a private mutton supplier down the road.
“Fend them off?” She questioned, a little perplexed that the humans thought they could actually fight the Kalikai Ancients. Thus far, she’d been pretty certain they grasped the severity of the power gap between their civilizations. Despite Militaunt posturing, the Shasian military was rendered just as hobbled as the economy. Meanwhile, the ancients were one of the few founding species of the galactic community left, and the only race left that technologically rivaled the Gra.
“Yeh, why not? I don't know about you, but if some asshole came to one of our worlds to enforce laws we didn’t have a say in, much less wanted, we’d kick 'em in the dick, repeatedly, until we couldn’t kick anymore. And then we’d swap legs.”
“I see…” Graphic though it may be, Noideen mulled the mental image over a bit. It heavily implied that the humans would fight back even if they couldn’t win. The Militaunt would love to take advantage of that… or hate the problems it could cause.
The darker ‘halfbred’ as he’d been called, idly twiddled a thick knife between his fingers as a kitten would a toy. “We’ve got a long and colorful history of being absolute bastards to occupying powers. Lots ‘ah warlord types who thought well-oiled war machines were the best way to go. They’d conquer a lot of territory initially, but they always failed to account for the pissed off locals. Piss in their cereal enough, and suddenly important people start dying mysteriously, wells get poisoned, and bombs start ending up in some real creative places there~”
“Doesn't that come off as a little… spiteful?” She questioned, idly stirring one of those ...
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