In The Sixth Millenium, Carnivores Are At Least Polite

Aidan, a man of four thousand years but few gray hairs was having some trouble adjusting. The new language, customs and culture all seemed wrong. Mostly, it was the purple mash potatoes in the cafeteria. There was a part of him that knew purple potatoes to be perfectly acceptable in nature. The other part of him knew that regardless of what nature has to say, purple potatoes are just wrong. Aidan ate his meatloaf, all the while eying the aberrant mash potatoes.

“May I eat you?”

That’s another thing, in the four thousand years Aidan was absent for, propositions had just become plain weird. Aidan looked up at the thick green man towering above him. The man was enthusiastic and judging by the drool falling from his yellow fang, he was sincere in his carnivorous intentions. The cafeteria was empty and most likely no one could come to Aidan’s rescue.

“No, I’m afraid I’m not on the menu.”

The green man looked shocked.

“But you seem so sad?”

“Just a little lonely I guess, but not so much as to want to be devoured.”

“ ‘Sokay, had a big lunch. Tell you the truth I don’t really need the calories.”

The verdant colored giant sat down at the table, gingerly feeling his way to the chair as to not break it. Aidan continued eating, mentally adding a large catalog of things he found odd and terrifying. If he were to run from this congenial person, he would have to run from the laser eyed squids and those of the third sex too. He had neither the energy nor inclination.

“So if your feeling lonely, why are you alone in a hospital cafeteria at three in the morning?”

“Just finished my first shift, I’m a dish washer. All my friends, they work days.”

“Ah, I work nights too. Security guard.”

“And you spend your time asking people if they’d like to be eaten? Is that legal?”

“It’s illegal not too. I only eat with consent or in self defense.”

“Ah. Still getting use to the new laws.”

“Oh, your Aidan, from the 21st century right? You got a woodpecker on your bum.”

“That I do, although I have to speak with Icky about being more discrete about my medical concerns.”

“Ihkay is a good kid, cut her some slack. She gives me a muffin every morning. Gluten is like plague to my folks, but it’s thought that count.”

“Or lack thereof.”

“Well can’t very well deny that she’s seems sometimes a little dipshitty.”

“I think the word you want is ditsy.”

“Damn man, she’s a nice girl. I won’t have you dragging her through the mud.”

“Sorry, I think those words have switched in severity.”

“I’d hope so.”

“Anyways do you want want my mash potatoes? I know they’re not meat but as the good book should say, not by meat alone.”

“Nah, that stuff is Peruvians and they taste weird.”

“But does their food?”

“Dunno, whenever I think of eating it I remember how weird Peruvian taste.”

The name on his jacket read Emmet. Emmet was now Aidan’s friend if only for the fact that Emmet had given Aidan an excuse to throw away those weird potatoes.

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