“It occurs to me…your inability to use the brain evolution granted you is none of my concern.” – RecklessPrudence
[AN: In case you’re wondering, it’s pronounced “fee co seff a lop ath ee”. The medical state of having shit for brains]
“Heads up, I got me a creeper,” Shayde announced as she parked herself uncomfortably close to him.
There would be no answers forthcoming from Shayde, who acted as if everyone could understand her and took hours of convincing to achieve an explanation. Therefore, Rael turned to peer in the direction Shayde had come from.
“Na, don’t look. Don’t look. Maybe we can avoid his notice,” said the six-foot tall amazon with literally black skin, wild white hair, and glowing demonic eyes.
“Shayde… you do look in a mirror on a daily basis, don’t you?”
“Oh, I see,” said a stranger of the exact type to think he was any given god’s gift to women, but frequently found himself on the refunds counter. Everything you needed to know about the man was right there on the worn and stained shirt that read -in sun-faded letters- Greater Deregulation: Love it or Get Shot!
It featured a contorted figure of a woman in what was once a patriotic bikini. Both her illustrated bosoms and buttocks had worn thin from constant friction.
The man leaned on the bar in what he probably thought was a sexy pose. “The old, ‘I have a boyfriend’ trick. You should pick a better beard, little missy.”
Shayde made a face. It said, without words, Can you believe this bastard? I am so very glad I haven’t eaten recently. “I cannae do the shadow thing,” she whispered. “I don’t want that much paperwork e'er again.”
So. Sherlock had hit the mark with the Gallery Incident. But, he had evidently hit it too hard and too well. “Perhaps, sir, you are unaware of the local harassment laws?”
“This ain’t harassment, ya tube-grown sissy! This is attention. It’s like a compliment. The lady’s got a nice ass and I want in on it.” He laughed raucously at his own pseudo-joke.
“Please tell me I can cut his throat,” Shayde subvocalised. “Or I have authority tae knee him in the nuts.”
Rael made a very subtle 'calm down’ motion with one hand. He was already sending video feed from his brow-cam to the security offices. The multitasker on duty was sending him helpful advice through his on how to handle it until security got there.
“Your attentions and compliments are clearly unwanted,” stated Rael.
“Who said her opinion mattered? Frigid bitch won’t even friendzone me.”
Now Shayde’s face said, Can I kill him now?
Around them, numerous bystanders were also setting their info-monocles to send live feed to the security office. They knew Shayde and her usual attitude to verbal harassment.
“It occurs to me that you must have skipped out on some court-mandated etiquette training.”
“It occurs to me that I could punch both'a your faces in.”
“It occurs to me,” said Rael as security finally turned up to drag him away, “that your inability to use the brain evolution granted you is none of my concern.” He smiled as the hands of taller, fitter, and far more muscular members of the security forces descended upon his shoulders. “Have a nice time in mandatory therapy!”
“Ye won’t get out till ye pass a test,” added Shayde.
“God I love it when you speak French,” he called as they dragged him away. “Keep it warm for me, baby!” One hand grabbed his shirt’s cartoon once-were-breasts, the other grabbed the area where the derrière once was. He slobbered in Shayde’s direction while waggling his tongue like a hungry giraffe.
Shayde vented an ululating noise that could have passed for the agony cry of a hippo. “An’ that’s why I didnae talk tae 'im…”
“Greater Deregulation man-babies,” Rael sighed. Rolling his eyes at the entire sub-species.
“Aye, they should pass a test afore they’re allowed tae travel.”
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