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Animal Rights?

Animal Rights?

ANIMAL ABUSER!

ANIMAL RIGHTS!

ANIMAL MURDERER!

The bolded titles were posted all over the media. Exflibberaguil had to drive several miles to escape a particularly crazed protester. It seemed ridiculous to him that there would be Sodriew who protested for animal rights. Shouldn’t they be more worried about their selves?

Several people had recorded Nick and the ferret taking down the rabbit and strangling it. One particular video, taken by the fat woman eating pepperoni pizza, had blown up on multiple social media websites, especially after a celebrity had reposted it with the caption:

“This is disgusting. #ANIMALABUSE MUST be stopped! It MUST be punished!!”

Millions of comments agreed, writing,

“Humans were a mistake of nature. Soulless beings like these destroy what was intended to be beautiful.”

“Psychopath.”

“You make me sick.”

They wrote with such passion and rage that Exflibberaguil if he hadn’t had that much experience, would have easily believed their intentions were true. But he knew that this was all just a façade. He didn’t believe a word they said. He knew of these sorts of beings before. Even they, themselves, may believe that they are truthful and kind-hearted. Exflibberaguil knew better.

There was a famous galactic experiment. A tiny planet had once been destroyed by a deflected meteor that originally was headed for another planet. Most of the creatures that inhabited it, small, gentle being called Kelm, had been killed. Thankfully, about a thousand of them survived because they happened to be away.

A famous galactic reported had flown to several planets interviewing multiple civilized species. Strangely enough, all the interviews always followed the same path. Every single question was answered the same way.

“Do you think Kelms should be allowed to live on your planet?” the reporter would ask.

“Oh, certainly,” they’d all reply.

“Do you think Kelms should be allowed to stay in homes?”

“Of course.”

“Should they be treated just like how true residents here are treated?”

“Yes.”

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“Now, if a Kelm was on the street, do you think people should offer it their home? Bring them back to their house and treat it like family?”

“Absolutely.”

“If you saw a Kelm, would you be the one that would take it in?”

“Definitely. Only the heartless would leave such a poor thing out on the street, cold.” All of those interviewed were all too happy to express their concern for the Kelm and prove their kindness.

The reporter would smile now, and single to his right. A little blue Kelm would waddle on the screen next to the reporter. The reporter would say, “I have a Kelm friend right here. His name is Oskey. He doesn’t have a home, and he’s currently living on the street. Would you take him in?”

Instantly, all the interviewee’s faces would change. A sudden cold film would come over their fixed smiles. They’d stare at the little dirty Kelm in disgust. The response they gave with their eyes was unanimous. No. I don’t want to take that dirty little thing into my house.

Of course, all of them would make up different excuses. One would say,

“I’m sorry. I would take you in if my house wasn’t so small. I don’t have room for another, and I don’t have the money either. I still haven’t paid my rent…”

Or

“I would take you adorable thing of course! I just don’t have space for the moment. But as soon as someone leaves, I’ll make sure to take you. It’s just because I don’t have space. Really.”

“So if you did have space, you’d take Oskey in?” the reporter asked with a hint of doubt.

“Yes…of course…” she replied unconvincingly.

One even joked around, laughing, “Ah, yes, brother! Of course, of course. Come with me right now.”

“So you’d bring him home?” the reporter asked.

“Ah! Of course…if only I could. But I’m afraid I have to take care of my family. My daughter, you see, she’s only five. And my wife’s pregnant with another baby girl. I want to bring you back, but my hands are full. Please don’t be offended…”

It was the same with these animal activists. They’d say,

“Save the turtles!”

“Protect wildlife!”

“Stop animal abuse!”

But they’d never do anything themselves to make a difference. Some particularly generous ones would even give money to fund these projects. These Sodriew, essentially, just wanted to prove to others that they weren’t bad people, while convincing and reassuring themselves that the world changed because of that one post, that one like, that one dollar.

These were people who would fund for a cure of cancer, yet were extremely against animal testing. It was simply impossible to fulfill both wishes. If someone had arrived at their door, asking if they’d want to be tested instead of animals, more often than not, they’ll yell and protest in fury. If someone had asked if they’d like to risk their lives saving koalas from burning in Australia, few would be brave enough to accept and even fewer would save a single one.

What infuriated Exflibberaguil, even more, was that Nick had gone unconscious after the bite, yet none of the animal rights protesters had ever thought of helping her. The bite, Exflibberaguil knew, likely transferred some sort of disease. If was the rabbit’s last attack. If one of them were to die, they’d bite their enemy so they wouldn’t die alone.

If Exflibberaguil had posted online that Nick had died, none of the people who had witnessed it would feel any guilt for standing by and not helping. Instead, they’d blame it all on karma, and that it ‘served her right’ to die by the rabbit’s bite. It seemed that someone's life no longer mattered if they ever laid a finger on an animal.

Exflibberaguil felt, for the first time (though he really wouldn’t know how many times he had erased his memory) true and utter disgust for the Sodriew. Before, he had only regarded them as strange and stupid creatures. Now, they were strange, stupid, and on top of that, completely lacking morality.

Animal rights, he thought bitterly, unintentionally adding sarcasm.