Aliens vs Angry Dragon
Aliens have just arrived on Earth, and they are looking for a human to ‘mate’ with. There is a lottery, and your name is picked. As they bring you into their ship, the strangely attractive alien Prince looks and you and says “Mine.”
I stare the supposed prince down, my gaze getting progressively colder the further into the explanation. There is a pinprick of pity for the alien - considering how their appearance differs from humans, he, or whatever Prince’s actual sex is, likely repulses the rest of his species. I guess that’s the reason for them searching on Earth, of all places.
But it’s not my problem they allowed their leading class to inbred. Their looks, zoofile tendences nor intentions of keeping a human sex toy (for as lacking my knowledge of these particular visitors is, they certainly do have consorts) don’t disturb me much, though such practices I hold questionable. However, lack of explicit and free consent given on my part and keeping me from my business for such infantile reason, I find repulsive and unacceptable, respectively.
“Whoever’s responsible for the ‘lottery’“ the word rolls from my tongue full of distaste “is severly underqualified. All participants were supposed to be humans willing for such act, and, as it stands, I’m both opposed and not human.”
The princeling reels back in shock. Hurting his feelings is least of my concernes. Another of his brethen steps in, exclaiming with confidence:
“Humans are the only sentient race on Earth!”
I level this one with a stare that says clearly how low exactly my esteem of him and what he just spewed up is. That is the only response for what I said? Nothing for the other argument? Had I any thought for a fling, it would fly out the proverbial window. I won’t stand my potential suitor disregarding the most important rules - namely, mutual respect and clear communication - as human males are prone to do. I cannot decide whether his hoard may be, indeed, that stupid, when all I get is merely a flinch.
“I deeply recommend replacing your data manager with someone actually thinking. Hundreds of sentient species inhabit this planet; in fact, if you cannot say, I’m a dragon.” It’s both an advice and warning. They may encounter someone less patient next time, or fuck this one up if they continue being the utter fools.
Apparently it’s a case of hopeless idiotism, for my interlocutor scoffs “Even humans agree it’s just a legend!”
I raise my eyebrow at him and look around to make sure I have enough space. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care about wellbeing of disrespectful hoard of such low-league amant, but scrubbing resulting bio-mush off my scales is a pain.
“Now“ my voice is much deeper in this form. I see my reflection in scared eyes of creatures present, and am proud to see I look presentable enough for the situation. Many weapons are aimed at me, and it’s time to drop niceities; they didn’t want to talk with reason, they’ll have to bow to force. My armor would yield only to their biggest space cannons and that’s not exactly an option here. “Escort me back, and you shall be left in peace.”