We're Not All Into Eating Humans

"We're Not All Into Eating Humans"

"Humans! Eat Humans!" The voice squeaked out across the pitch. Kamiko snorted. She understood the old demonic tongue. On a larger demon, it would be guttural and rife with hatred and strength. But, really, these tiny fur babies were going to try and eat a human? Tiny or big, they're demons, and trouble and she would have to take care of them.

"We're not all into eating humans, Gerry!" Ernest said, blinking his one eye. "Some of us have refined tastes! I prefer the clean taste of fresh fish to the game-ness of human meat. Besides, they're all corn fed and disgusting. It's blubbery mush!"

"Agrogg Arahh Groggg!!" Gerry squealed across the pitch at his four demonic hench-buddies. He pounded his fists on his chest.

"I wish you wouldn't use the old tongue," Ernest said. "It's so... ancient and unruly sounding. I do prefer English and even this Japanese language is quite eloquent. Gerry, I demand that you take it up!"

Terry continued to pick and scratch the inside of his nose. With his claws trimmed, it felt good to scratch at the one hair inside of his nose that bothered him all week. Carey yawned and longed for napping inside the hollow oak tree again. Ernest longed to return to his books -- yes, human flesh was the pinnacle of demonic cuisine (if one could call mauling and then rending the raw flesh of a human, a cuisine), but the knowledge he found in human books sated him much more. Only Barry appeared to be into the idea of muching on human flesh, but Barry could be spacey and he was probably daydreaming about the sweet smells of various confections they came across in the human town.

"Agrogg Arahh Groggg!!" Gerry screamed and pointed off into the distance at the lumbering silhouette of a drunken man.

Kamiko glanced over and saw a salaryman sink onto a park bench. His tie loose. His shirt untucked on one half. He lolled his head back on the bench and snoozed.

She sighed. "Idiot. All right, time to go to work. I guess."