There is no denying the creature’s beauty. They can elegantly make any situation or style cute, fashionable, and right within seconds. Their golden yarn that is flawlessly glued to their heads brightens up the souls of many. For all athletes and scholars they are the prize. Yet I, for some reason, am still completely terrified. I’ve heard their stories. They’ve been known to make some of the gladiators in our town cry like babies and little boys run for their lives. There should be no reason why we humans should have any interaction with such alien individuals.
As I speak, they surround me. They are sneaky creatures with very human-like actions. One may be reading the works of Virginia Woolf, while the other sits on a bench drinking a frozen beverage. These beasts are deceiving. I don’t want to be attacked and, I’m warning you, nor do you.
Over the years I’ve found different ways of approaching the problem. The most effective yet is humor. When I see one around, I grab someone of my own species and loudly crack a joke that only someone who knew what Phosphofructokinase was would understand. The creature comes, turns around, makes a face of disgust, and walks away. It’s always a success.
But this time, it comes in my direction. No ignorance or signal can purge the beast in pink. By now, I have tried it all. Perhaps my time is up? I never really thought I would die by the violence and slaughter of a beast.
By now the beast is a good five feet away. I still refuse to make eye contact or signal any interest.
“Go away,” I repeat to myself. There should be no reason for this. I leave them alone and they should, too. I cannot imagine the horrid things the beast may do to me. As it stands there and stares, my palms begin to sweat and my heart races.
“Go away,” I continue.
“Would you like a cupcake? I made it myself,” said the beast.
Perhaps these “females” aren’t half bad.
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