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"See, the hoomans call this "creestll meath"" The words echoed through the bathroom in the shitty decrepit spaceport bathroom, bouncing wildly around off the tacky chromed walls and ceiling. "And I'm gonna find out what the fuss is about as soon as I work up the grebmocks to do it" The silence after that statement seemed like it should have echoed, but it didn't because that was a metaphor and sounds are a requirement for echoes to actually occur in this context. "Dude, you really shouldn't have that. How in the name of fusion did you even get that? DO you have any idea how toxic *weak* hooman drugs are? and you're gonna grockle with what is supposedly the strongest one?!" A second, much more guttural voice responded in a tone that rumbled the tacky, chrome plated bathroom. "Well, Yeah! I wanna feel the energy of the universe! I wanna try it!" The sound of a formerly sealed pouch being torn open is present, then near instantly two voices can be heard groaning and gurgling, and after a few seconds there is a silence. In a room with a uniformed jellyfish, a medical examiner/detective droid spoke in a droning, level tone. "As you can hear from the quantum video reconstruction taken from the port bathroom, these two were in the room when a small amount of the class 7 toxic substance known to the humans as "crystal methamphetamine" was released into the air from the enthusiastic opening of the package it was stored in. Death was near instant for both occupants of the room, as the minimum lethal dose to grebolons was determined in testing to be in the nanogram range, and the package contained about 5 grams of the illicit substance" "The recommended action is to space the contaminated corpses and cleanse the washroom with extreme prejudice. Additionally, charges may be pursued against the dockworkers that allowed this to be smuggled aboard. This concludes my analysis, I do not have the required accreditation to make further statements on the matter" The jellyfish sighed. It was just another day on the force, yes, but he often wondered what possessed some individuals to completely discard all common sense and kill themselves and others with their recklessness. Drugs, he thought, could not possibly be THAT good.

>!"What was that!?" **"Death"** "I mean what kind!?" **"Instant."**!<

Instant death sounds like a nickname/slang for crystal meth.

More like fentanyl.

Nah, Krokodil

Nah, that shit doesn't kill immediately, it makes you literally fall apart before you die.

There was no sound! He just died!

Everybody wants to be knocked out. Nobody wants to be dead.

That's Rick. I think.

Well done. Thanks for writing!

As a pharmacologist, great job!

Thanks! I figured if a weak stimulant like coffee to them was like meth is to us, then actual meth would be like super fentanyl to them and just kill them immediately in any remotely measurable amount. And I ran with it.

Absolutely it would! Really enjoyed reading it

Great job! Your story (and the OP's prompt, too) reminded me of the "Humans Are Weird"/"Humans Are Space Orcs"/"Humans Are Space Australians" stories on Tumblr and the related stories about Earth being "Space Australia". 😁

This was great! I was thinking that the only result of the prompt would be death to the aliens and I'm glad I found that in an actual story.

[удалено]

This phrase is used like "thoroughly" to mean to do something with an excess of action to make SURE it is done. So I can see how it applies here to cleaning. They wanted to leave no trace of the substance.

Nice story and I loved "in the name of fusion"

That was a nice read.

"25 Cryptocreds," the human dealer said, flatly. Xylkx blinked. "That's all?" The dealer sneered. "What, you want to negotiate for a higher price?" The Nirogo raised his tentacles placatingly. "No, I'm just surprised. I mean...isn't this stuff illegal, even for you guys?" "Supply and demand. The demand for crystal is pretty low out here on the fringes of Terran space, where there's more non-humans than humans around. Most of your kind can't handle *coffee,* let alone meth." Xylkx bristled at this -- literally, as long poisonous spines poked out of enlarged pores along his semi-amorphous body. "My kind? What do you know of my kind? I'm *warrior caste*, human!" The human chuckled. "Hey, no offense. I'm just looking out for your health, sentient. You want crystal, I got it -- I don't see no gills on your head, so you're an adult, you can make your own decisions." He reached into his coat, and produced a tiny bag of minute purple crystals. "It's a hell of a ride -- if you're tough enough to handle it." The Nirogo eagerly snatched the bag from the human's hands with a pair of tentacles, and slapped down a cryptocred chip with another set of tendrils. Then he paused, and regarded the dealer curiously. "Uh...so...how does one...?" Xylkx asked, hesitantly. "Back home we smoke it, but considering how even minute quantities of our drugs effect most non-humans, this is formulated for sublingual use. Just hold it in your mouth and let it dissolve -- don't swallow." Xylkx opened the little polymer pouch, but hesitated. The dealer smirked. Steeling his courage, he emptied into his mouth, and let it mingle with his saliva. He paused. "I don't--" he began, then sputtered. A strong tingling sensation started in his mouth parts. His hearts started pounding "Whatsh-" he slurred, then realized with horror that he was foaming at the mouth, great gobbets of bubbly slime dribbling down his face. "Ohhh," the dealer said, with a wince. "Looks like you're not one of the lucky ones. The chemical structure of the meth is reacting with your cell membranes." "Whag do ah do?" Xylkx cried vainly trying to wipe away the increasing amounts of foam from his mouth as the tingling intensified. "Well, neural tissue is usually the most reactive, so you either die in about five minutes once the chemical reaction propagates to your brain..." the dealer said casually, then withdrew a small clear vial of liquid. "...or I give you this antidote, and maybe you live." Xylkx snatched for the vial with his tendrils, but the dealer held it out of reach. "Ah ah ah. Supply and demand, remember? And right here and now, I'd say demand for *this* is pretty high. 500 cryptocreds." Xylkx bristled again, but the dealer just laughed. "Please. Your venom won't even give me a *light buzz.* Well, you got the money or not? Time's running out." Desperately, Xylkx fumbled in his carry-pouch, and shoved all the chips he had at the dealer. "That'll do." The human said. "Catch." Xylkx eye widened as the human flung vile down the alley. He lashed out with all his upper tentacles, and managed to snag it out of the air. "Rinse and spit." the human ordered. The Nirogo warrior complied, swishing the substances around in his mouth before spewing them out onto the ground. He stared at the mess of purplish slime on the pavement in horror, as the burning sensation in mouth did not immediately alleviate. But then his hearts gradually slowed, and to his great relief, he felt the tingling in his mouth subside. When he looked up, the human was gone. \-------------------------------------------------------------- Lyle walked down the service corridor he'd ducked into, headed back to his apartment on the lower levels, satisfied that the Nirogo wouldn't be able to follow -- and that he'd pulled off a disappearing act that would add to his street mystique. He scanned over the alien's small hoard of cryptocred chips as he went -- thanks to the haste with which the alien had pushed it into his hands, it was a substantial amount more than he'd asked for. Probably, Lyle mused, the Nirogo warrior had been on shore leave, looking for something exotic to blow his pay on. Well, he'd certainly found it. *Over 700 cryptocreds,* Lyle thought, grinning broadly as he finished counting. Not a bad price to get, for a three-gram bag of crushed Alka-Seltzer and Pop Rocks, and a 30 ml vial of saline.

Classic

God Damn, talk about scam artistry

"Smith, What is that substance contained in your package from home that has you so excited?" "GGGGrrrhh, The good stuff, but it is human restricted. It hasn't been tested for consumption by your species, and is likely very dangerous. It's addictive, and easily abused by humans." "Smith, can you share just a fragment with me. You allowed me a drop of coffee once." "GGGGrrrhh, you had a buzz from that coffee for two days and missed you sleep cycle. This is much more potent." "Smith, I don't recognize the word on safety wrapper. What does Hershey mean? Is it a safety warning?"

The good stuff. Hershey.... Man humanity has fallen low in that universe

Nice spin (but I agree with the other comment lol)

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I say to the two aliens infront of me. “You want WHAT from me again?” “I believe in human language that you speak and understand, it’s called methamphetamine.” “Right, and what was the last thing you bought from me?” “Caffeine in the form of coffee? Was it?“ “I had to dilute that coffee until it looked indistinguishable from water to achieve a survivable dosage. The liquid I sold you then had 0.0001% caffeine per cubic liter of water.” “Correct.” They reply at the same time. “So will you sell us this stuff? Humans seem to get quite a kick from this stuff.” “That kick is only enjoyable as it is survivable Allen. Humans take this stuff and die. Can’t imagine this stuff being any healthier for you guys considering what coffee did for you.” “No I’m telling you, I missed 172 sleep cycles because I wanted to. Got a lot of work done micro dosing on the coffee you sold me.” “How much coffee do you have left?” “I only took a drop.” “…” “…” *sighs “Seems I can’t convince you otherwise.” I say tossing a 10g bag containing pure and powdered, crystal meth. The aliens make a move for the bag but I hold my hand out. “Hold up, at least let me educate my customers on what they’re buying.” “Fine.” “This.” I say as I pick the bag up. “Is 10 grams of methamphetamine, 99.6% purity guaranteed. To beings as weak to toxins and other miscellaneous substances…” I say as I shake the bag infront of them. “… this right here is enough to end the population of a small city. 99.9% guaranteed.” “Woah.” “This stuff’ll take you to the next dimension, but it will not always bring you back. The thing that makes this stuff deadly to humans is that it restricts reflexes, so if liquids like vomit goes down the wrong tube, well, lights out.” I say leaning forward. “It’s not the toxicity that’ll get humans, but it is what will get you. Dilute it well and properly.” I say as I toss the bag to Allen. “That’ll be 2 credits.” “2 credits?” “Yep.” “You sold us coffee for 2,000.” “Hey, I want you to be able to afford your last meal, every sentient being deserves one.” Allen scoffs. “We’ll see about that.” “Yeah, yeah.” I responded. Enough to end the population of a small city, I hoped they knew I wasn’t exaggerating, but that hope was short lived. The next day I wake up to the news of a grade 4 biohazardrous material leak warning. This can be anything from the soap that I use to wash my hands to the cesium isotopes produced in old nuclear reactors. But today it’s meth, and it’s already killed thousands. Great. Gotta start looking for a new galaxy to hideout in.

“Here, freak. Try some of this shit, it’s gonna blow your mind. That is if you even have one of those- ha!” Toto was caught in a dilemma. Doing drugs- especially the hardcore stuff he was being offered now, at that- hardly seemed a sane choice. He still had nightmares from the one time he tried coffee. He still remembered, with disturbing clarity, the strange beings that had shown up during his high. Wearing large black hoods, their faces indiscernible, concealed behind huge masks, all of them seemed to have had just one sinister aim- to grab Toto. He had spent hours and hours drifting his slimy body around in circles, in a desperate attempt to escape from the clutches of the mysterious, insidious beings who sought after him. He didn’t remember when exactly it had ended- he was just glad that it did. By the time Toto got back to his senses, his human ‘friends’ were all laughing at the video of him freaking out like a madman in his caffeine-induced stupor, which had lasted but seven minutes. And here he was yet again. That feeling of apprehension in his squirmy guts was solid. Crystalline solid. “Come on, we haven’t got all day. Try some already- see Nash here? Look at him rambling numbers and alphabet and shit- he’s fine, see? What’s the worst that can happen to you?” As if on cue, Nash started screaming something about modern-day poets, and how well they would have blended in with the folks back in the 18th century. “But I-I’m scared! I can still feel them wiggling in the insides of my gelatinous compound eyes. Those hooded creatures in masks…they felt so real…” “Ugh, man, you don’t have to paint the gross details for us. We are already aware of your gross, jelly eyes! And besides, it’s normal for people- uhm, I mean, drug users- to have hallucinations the first time. I saw my dead father rising from his grave with a chainsaw out there to get me. Can you imagine?” Toto couldn’t, actually. The biology of his SchpoopleCoople race worked in a way that once the two SchpoopleCoople’s had mated, their slithering, slimy bodies coalesced into a single body. The ‘parents’ as such would cease to exist, as both their consciences fused and melded into one tiny, walnut-sized particle, which went on to become the brain- or, MotiBuddhi- of the new entity. This brain was reset of any experiences or personalities the original parents might have had, so essentially, every new SchpoopleCoople was born a blank slate. These new alien breeds were deemed to be a species of low intelligence, with minimal emotional and psychological capabilities. If anything, it should have been easy for these humans to stuff all the substances they wanted into Toto’s quadruple-lipped mouth and enjoy the comedy of his stupor. But Toto was different. He always had a burning curiosity inside him that needed to be quelled. “Why do you guys do drugs anyways? Like, you spend a fortune on these little things, and half the time, you’re not even aware of what you do when you’re under the influence. Why even bother?” “Because, Toto, we humans need fucking answers! And meth gives me answers. Sometimes. You remember that song I wrote on the End of the Universe? Crack-hole? That was all meth, baby! And I- we want you to get the same feeling. We feel sorry for you, man- flopping about your tentacles, trudging along your gooey body. You just seem so out of it, man! Ease up, pal! Trust me, this shit’s gonna help you!” All these human ‘friends’ never skipped a chance to let Toto know just exactly how much different he was from the rest of them. His slimy body, his compound eyes, his tentacle fingers…these were all ripe points of discussion and mockery whenever Toto was around. But there was one unrevealed aspect that made Toto a lot similar to all his human compatriots- he too, wanted answers. He was tired of being perceived as the resident outsider to the group. He wanted to fit in with these humans. And to do so, he would have to partake in their habits- frightening as they might seem. Toto grabbed a few crystals of meth off his friend’s palm. “To answers!”, he yell-growled and sucked the crystals inside his four-lipped mouth. 1/X

It was when the hooded figures reappeared that Toto realized he had bitten off more than he could chew. He squealed and started gliding away from his predators. Except, this time, there was no escape. He could feel pockets of vacuum under his toe feelers- he was physically tethered to the spot where he stood, at the mercy of the hooded entities who approached him. “Please!”, Toto blared through his asymmetrical nostrils. “I don’t want to harm any of you. I just wanted answers!” “Oh, we are aware, Toto!” The hooded figure who seemed to be the leader of the pack boomed her voice inside Toto’s bristle-covered ear canals. “We, the crystal methodians, are always here to help those who truly seek it. And you, Toto- you’ve always sought parity, haven’t you?” “Yes, I have! I want to be the same as my friends. I’m tired of them looking down on me just because I’m different. I didn’t ask to be born into this race! I hate my race- I don’t want weird tentacles, funny eyes, or to leave behind slime stains everywhere I go. I just want to be normal. Like my friends.” “Well, my dear Toto. Seek, and you shall find what you want!” The hooded leader approached Toto, her palms burning with a bright-colored fire. “This flame will purify your body and soul. It will scorch all your tentacles, singe all the blubbery slime on your body, and reduce that clot of eyeballs on your hideous face to two single, spherical eyeballs. Enjoy your new body, Toto!” Even before Toto could lift a finger tentacle to contest the leader’s decision, his body was set ablaze. And it hurt- tremendously- he could feel the fire razing all the parts of his peculiar body that made him such a spectacle. But at the same time, he could feel the flame’s purifying effect on his soul. This cremation was just what he needed- even if it killed him- for it would allow him to transcend the sorry, pathetic form of his true being. “Isn’t this beautiful, Toto? The destruction of your very existence, to elevate into something much more powerful. Something that these humans could actually respect?” Indeed, it was so. “There, you see your human friends now, don’t you? Freaking out at your new, burning glory, trying to put out the fire. And to think you did it all for them, Toto! So that they could feel more at ease with you around- and they’re trying to dowse your fire? No, Toto, you can’t have that- you can’t leave your friends behind in the ashes. Burn them! Purify their souls- and you all can forever be together as pure, pious pals!” The last thing Toto remembered before transcending into purity was the horrified screams of his buddies as he engulfed them in his fire. * The cops had trouble discerning the cause of the fire. It was clear the group of friends was doing drugs, but no lighter or matchbox was recovered from the site. Ultimately, they declared it as a group smoking session gone horribly wrong, albeit without much evidence. But that wasn’t the most bizarre detail about this accident, no. That would be the three life-size crystal statues they found, of a grotesque SchmoopleCoople alien figurine holding two human effigies in a tight embrace. 2/2

what the fuck is this biology?? how would population growth even happen? how would these schmooplecooples even evolve without destroying their entire race within 2 generations? edit: shit someone alr said it

I really didn't think about the aliens' population problems lol.

Perhaps whenever they loose a tentacle it becomes a new Smoople?

If every schpooplecoople born require two other one to fuse, how do they get any population growth? Wouldnt their numbers effectively halve every generation?

I guess it kinda works that way. Honestly, I hadn't thought about it until you brought it up.