THE DARMENOIDS (any gender, late teens on up)
I’m... what can I say, I’m sorry, Officer. I really am. But yeah: If I’m really sorry, if I really get it, then why did I do it in the first place?
First of all, how was I gonna know that you can actually scare a Darmenoid? Or that what I did was scary?
It’s no more scary than what everybody in this shithole town has to go through every day. Hour after hour, taking old people screaming into the factory, blowing their brains out, digging out the guts then chopping off the hands n’ feet n’ head so all the Darmeniods don’t have to think about what they’re really eating. So those rich alien tourists don’t think about what we really have to do all day, all of us who actually live here.
It just made sense. A prank. A nudge-nudge, “here’s where your gourmet meat comes from; you know it and we sure as hell know it.” Sneak into one of five star rooms in the night and when they wake up, there’s the room service staff milling around... only it’s all old folks, alive and well.
Honestly, did anyone know that Darmenoids could have heart attacks? Or that their emperor would take it personally enough to declare a freaking war?
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes.
If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"