"a rat in a tutu saves the world
a cat in a mumu destroys the world
a new color called banaroon
a... a..."
Krale walked amongst the fields of budding stalks, picking out the bulbs that were ready for harvest. Every once in a while, he would use a brace of his meter long talons to pick some particularly ripe morsel. He would pop the little berry like orb of human inventiveness into his mouth; savoring the juice as it flowed down his pseudo-throat tubules. Not as good as the wine they would eventually press from these bulbs... but still refreshing under the thousand sunned sky.
As the idea farm field hand moved through his alloted rows, he discovered a stalk that seemed to be beginning to wilt. The face of vines and roots at its base seemed, pensive... troubled. Not full of rage, or sorrow or terror; any of the useful feelings which would help the stalk flower, self germinate and bud. No, the face indicated emptiness.
Krale summoned his foreman Hrang.
"This one seems drained." He said, gesturing with one of his tertiary thumb.
Hrang stood, stroking the knots of flesh below his teeth thoughtfully.
"Should I fertilize?" Krale hoisted his onyx can of muse slurry. A splash of this would refresh the human soul that fed the stalk, would help neural nodes reconnect into fucxing diodes to grow more bulbs for collection.
"Nah," Said Hrang. "This one's about done." With a grunt, he uprooted the growth to cast it onto the ground. "Another for the fire." Krale grunted his acknowledgement as he squeezed out another bulb to dribble the mematic extract into his mouth parts.
---
Far away, in the human world, the screenwriter looked at his screen. The words just wouldn't come... and they never would again.
Krale summoned his foreman Hrang.
"This one seems drained." He said, gesturing with one of his tertiary thumb.
Hrang stood, stroking the knots of flesh below his teeth thoughtfully.
"Should I fertilize?" Krale hoisted his onyx can of muse slurry. A splash of this would refresh the human soul that fed the stalk, would help neural nodes reconnect into fucxing diodes to grow more bulbs for collection.
"Nah," Said Hrang. "This one's about done." With a grunt, he uprooted the growth to cast it onto the ground. "Another for the fire." Krale grunted his acknowledgement as he squeezed out another bulb to dribble the mematic extract into his mouth parts.
---
Far away, in the human world, the screenwriter looked at his screen. The words just wouldn't come... and they never would again.
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