There were fucking dicks everywhere. Everywhere!

At first, nobody knew what to make of the small drawings that began to appear all over the station. They varied in size, shape. Some folks thought they were crude spaceships, likening the shaft to a fuselage and the balls to engines.

Others thought it might be a Bolgarkian horn. Others yet thought they might be the wattles of a Tolpa.

I knew better. I told everyone, those are dicks. Human dicks. I've seen them plenty of times. How? Never mind that, that's how. Nobody believed me. Humans were so polite, so friendly, so formal! For the most part, I agreed. Humans were pleasant overall, as long as you stayed on their good side.

But not their little bastards, now those, they weren't so perfect. Somewhere around 8 cycles, humans suddenly became vicious, vindictive little pack predators. Vandals! Disruptors! Pure assholery at every turn! The little fuckers didn't have a good side!

But only when they thought you weren't looking. I knew better. I saw them day in and day out of my classroom, their parents eagerly ushering them through my doors, barely contained joy on their faces as they turned and pretended to not outright flee from their own hellspawn. They did not meet my eyes, for they knew the horror they were inflicting upon me.

I stressed for months to anyone that would listen that this was the work of human children. How did I know? Because there was one student, whom every day, would draw on his desk, and at the end of the day, erase it. But the outline of the smudge was unmistakable. A human dick drawn on a human child's desk!

People began to question my sanity. I was pulled before the station's education board, even! Told I was being inappropriate and that my... Outside proclivities should not be finding purchase in my day to day life.

But I knew, I knew it was this human child.

I confronted the boy I suspected, a child named Gavin. Told him it was crude and disgusting and below his station, and I would have zero qualms about embarrassing him and his parents with a meeting. He admitted to nothing, but for a while after, there was nothing and I felt that the matter was handled.

Then, as suddenly as they disappeared, the fucking dicks came back! They were more grandiose, more realistic. Hair, veins, musculature at the base. They had shading, for fuck's sake! The culprit was taking my lessons about art and concepts like the core of the shadow to perfectly sculpt their heinous little graffiti projects.

They began to appear in more public places, tiny faces drawn on them. They slowly morphed from standalone dicks to characters unto themselves. Some of them were performing outlandish feats, like surfing. I saw one in the main thoroughfare wearing a top hat and a monocle.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Still, nobody could catch the culprit. Station heads were becoming increasingly frustrated with the cost of cleanup.

Finally, after a 20 foot high dick smoking a bong appeared on the Galactic Federation banners in the meeting hall, I confronted Gavin again.

He again swore he'd done nothing. I had no proof, so left our meeting, frustrated, but with a plan.

I studied the dicks. The size, the shape, each character personality, where they had been placed. I studied schematics and security protocols. Finally, a pattern emerged. I knew where the next dick would be. The little bastard was performing his art little by little, on the blips between security camera rotations, in time lapse ink so it wouldn't appear until the next day, long after he was gone.

I staked out my suspected location, and called in sick for an indeterminate amount of time. I waited. For days. All through the night. Each day, new dicks. But I knew my spot would be hit eventually. It was too perfect. Maybe he was building up the courage.

Finally, one night, as I was almost falling asleep and ready to call it quits, I saw movement. From the shadows, out slunk Gavin, time lapse spray cans in his hands.

"Aha!" I jumped out and snagged him by the arm. "Red handed!"

Gavin hung his head in shame as I marched him down the hallway to my classroom and seated him at his desk.

"Do you have any idea what you were about to deface?" I asked.

"No," Gavin said. "Some crawly portrait."

I was beside myself. "Boy, you were about to deface the only portrait we have of the Galactic founder, Zibron Thrallpo himself! It has incalculable value to not only the station, but to our very civilization itself! WE HAVE IT ON LOAN FROM THE SENATORIAL MUSEUM!!!"

Gavin said nothing, just fixing his eyes on a point behind me and smirking.

I slammed a tentacle down on his desk, making him jump and look back to my face. "Why are you drawing dicks on everything?!"

"I don't know sir. It's just something I've done since I was little. Any time I'm bored, my hands just start drawing dicks. I can't control it!"

"That's no excuse!"

I took a deep breath and sighed, reminding myself that this was a child. "Do you have any idea how much your graffiti has cost the station?"

"... No..."

"Over a trillion credits, Gavin! A trillion! Now, you might have laws against indentured servitude on Earth, but the Federation itself does not. A trillion credits has you, your mother and your father working for the next 200 cycles to pay it off."

He glanced up at me, panic in his eyes. "Please, sir, I'll stop, I promise. I'll talk to the ship counselor."

I closed my eyes and huffed. "Far be it from me to doom an entire family to slavery, Gavin. But this has to stop. I'm not going to report you... Unless this continues! Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

"Good. Now get out of here." I waved towards the door.

Gavin stood quickly, gave a hasty bow and scrambled towards the door.

I sighed and sagged against the desk. I glanced down, and saw a smudge beside my tentacle. I shifted a few of my suckers, and there saw a tiny, crudely drawn dick. He had to have done it while we were talking.

"Can't win 'em all," I muttered. I wiped the tiny drawing away. Something about it bothered me, but I couldn't fit a sucker around it.

I turned back to the front of the room, and stopped dead in my tracks. There on the wall, clear as day, was the most glorious, hyper realistic, 3-Dimensionally drawn dick that I had ever seen.

With my face on it.

Horror filled my heart as I recalled Gavin's smirk looking over my shoulder.

I slumped into the nearest seat and cradled my face between my tentacles.

"HUMAN CHILDREN ARE THE WORST!!"