Why Humans Make Bad Pets!

Xeno hulk-suit dodgeball is awesome V

“You’re joking, right?” Hulk-1 asked. “This is definitely some kind of sick joke, right? Right?”

“Nope, no joke.”

Hulk-2 took up the question, “You’re trying to tell us that your species has a game where you line yourselves up and then chuck balls as hard as you physically can with the intention of hitting each other? For fun?!”

“Yup.”

“Are you insane?” Hulk-2 looked like he was going to lose it pretty soon.

“That’s not even the worst of our games. We used to play a game where two guys got on horses . . . uh . . . really big animals you can ride that can run up to 40-48 km/h, put a little distance between each other, then made the horses sprint straight at the other while the guys on top tried to throw the other off his horse with a really long pole by ramming it really hard into their opponent’s chest as he rode by, and vice versa. It’s not really played much anymore, but it was all the rage some centuries past.”

Hulk-2 looked ready to vomit, and Hulk-1 didn’t look very healthy either. In fact, Hulk-3 through Hulk-20 seemed to be in similar states. Guess I should be happy I hadn’t gone with gladiator fights, MMA, or hockey. Yeah, definitely should have done hockey. Ah well, guess I’ll leave the explanation of that one for a later date.

“So as you can see dodgeball really isn’t all that bad!” My enthusiasm did not seem to be as contagious as it usually was. I’m sure they’d perk up once the game started. Demon Dude stepped in.

“If you don’t want to think of this as the f****d up game that it is, remember this is a combat training exercise.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll remove myself to a safe distance.” I’d forgotten Triv was still here.

Apparently a “safe distance” was far enough away so he couldn’t hear me, and therefore translate. I didn’t mind though, dodgeball wasn’t a sport where you needed communication. With Triv gone questions weren’t really an option, so our teams took the field. Demon Dude had his own hulk-suit, and took the opposing side with the odds. I got the evens. Great, Hulk-2.

The lights went off, and I started the game with a yell, both sides charging to the pile of glowing ammunition in the center of the court. The hulk-suits were definitely hulk-sized but I seemed to be the only one that realized that before it was too late. The heavy-shouldered dodgeball enthusiasts, unable to control their overwhelming love of the game, collided spectacularly in one big clusterfuck in the middle. Despite the colossal noise of colliding hulk-suits, I could only see the pilot lights on their arms, legs, and chests, making the scene unfold in a confusing swirl of individual star-points like a visible-light video of an Angler fish orgy.

More because of the general mayhem of the situation than because of anyone actually rolling the glow-balls back towards their side, the shots were dispensed randomly about the court. As I wasn’t trying to untangle myself from a hulk-mosh-pit, I was the first to fire off an orb. It hit one of the red lights of the other team, and their suit registered a hit. Soon, streaks of flying orbs filled the dark abyss. The theme from Tron had started playing in my head.

I soon fell into the rhythm and peaceful calm my mind always entered when playing a game. Life and death and situations had a tendency to command my attention, but a game, I tended to drift. It seemed so easy to think; my thoughts the clearest they had been for what seemed an eternity. With that clarity, came the best answer I had come up with yet (yes, it was also the only answer I’d come up with so far).

Hulk-2 was still alive, but I think it was an accident on his part. He looked like he was trying to get hit, almost throwing himself in the way of incoming ammunition, but usually only managing to trip and throw another teammate into the shot instead. He had probably gotten more kills for the other team then they had. He tried the same stunt with me, but I jumped out of the way, allowing him the sweet release of dodgeball death he had been craving for so long.

I didn’t know enough about this war, and I doubted I ever would. In the end, I had a feeling it would always look morally ambiguous, with both sides presenting equal claims to the moral high and low. Ultimately, it wasn’t my fight, and from what I’d seen of the galaxy, there were plenty of fights that were far less morally conflicting. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I could at least say that I didn’t want to be in the army anymore. I’d find another cause, one I knew was worth fighting for. Heck, I’d make a bigger difference doing stuff up here than I ever would have back on Earth.

The Culling was almost over. The dead from both sides lay strewn across the field of play. I guess I forgot to tell them to get off once they were hit. It didn’t matter though; this just added tripping hazards, which made it more intense. The few remaining on each team were obviously skilled, and several strikes required me to pull off some stunning acrobatics that would have resulted in a cracked skull and a cracked spine if I ever tried them on Earth. A well timed fastball from yours truly knocked the second to last guy down on the opposing team, which left the final showdown between me and random conglomeration of floating red lights Alpha. Despite the lack of evidence, I had a feeling it was Demon Dude.

That was actually a really good point. I could make a bigger difference out here. I could actually do something with my life that I had never had the opportunity to do before. I was a monster, yes, but as with the blue-giraffe pirate raid, I could be a good monster. Back on Earth, I was just a loser who was so good at running from his problems he’d ended up abducted by aliens. I found my desire to return to Earth waning. After all, I still had to meet up with Mama, Dink, and the rest if for no other reason than to say hi.

Demon Dude was a cheater. He had turned off his external lights, and I only knew where he was when an orb of light suddenly decided to hurl itself at me. Gosh darn it, I bet he kicked that one. I could play dirty too, and I tore off my glowing apparel and blended into the night that was only punctuated by glowing orbs and the dark patches of the fallen. I hid behind one such felled compatriot, clutching an orb I had snatched from the ground close to my chest and against the body of my teammate so its light wouldn’t show.

Then I waited. Waited for something, anything, to flash through the light of an orb. A patch of white, and I fired, whipping my glowing orb with victorious glee at the figure I’d seen momentarily illuminated by the light. The resounding thwack of a ball hitting hulk-armor echoed through the court. The lights turned on, and the sleeping hulks began to awaken. A pity, they had looked so peaceful, lying there on the floor.

It had been Demon Dude, and we walked up to me with a grin. “Cthfji woi xccqi plak okoonixqi-”

“What?”

He gave something behind me the death stare. With an audible sigh, Triv stood from where he had been cowering behind some crates and got within translator range. Demon Dude tried again.

“Excellent shot. Sorry about turning off the lights, but I really wanted to say I beat you. Have you made your decision, or shall we play another round?”

“I don’t think Hulk-2’s nerves can handle another round. However yes, I’ve made my decision.” Turning to Triv, I asked him my next question. “So, where could I go about finding a certain cargo ship full of blue-giraffes?”