The Yearbook Office
Writings on staying alive
 

The following is a public service announcement:

Please do not feed the humans. We know it can be tempting to offer them a few berries or a draft of wine, especially when they have been pretty or pleasing, but regardless of how lovely they would look with fingers and lips stained red, our food does not agree with them.

Do not feed on the humans either. This agrees with them even less.

In general, try to remember that humans are fragile creatures. The way their parts are arranged to start off are usually how they need to remain. For instance, a human’s range of motion is greatly reduced without their legs, and their eyes are not interchangeable.

Please, take care not to swap human children with possums or planks of wood. Humans do not see the humor in this. They are very attached to their kin, even the dull and ugly ones. They are not even satisfied when a sweeter, more beautiful child is left in its place.

If at all possible, do not engage in intimate relations with humans. You never know where they have been, though doubtless it was somewhere dirty and boring. If the situation becomes unavoidable, however, be gentle and communicative, and let your human partner know if you have a tendency to spontaneously grow spines or breathe fire during coitus.

Do not engage in riddle games with humans or accept any of their promises. Humans are such an unnatural phenomenon that the laws do not apply to them, and thus they find it easy to tell lies and break oaths. They do this as often as they can.

Here are a few possible scenarios that may arise as you move through the human world. We suggest recruiting a friend or broodmate to roleplay each scene with you.

  1. You are walking along the road, when you find that a human has built their dwelling directly on top of it. This strikes you as grossly discourteous, and shows an astounding ignorance of local geography. However, upon reflection you decide not to burn the dwelling down. Fire is bright and noisy, and difficult to confine to a single act of revenge. Inconvenient as it will be, it is possible to go through the dwelling, or over it.

  2. You come across a human revel, and are sorely tempted to see how fast and long they can dance for — just a few, not all of them. How amusing it will be to see how long it takes the others to realize that they are dancing with corpses! But human music is vile, and watching this unfold will require you to fill your ears with it. Best to just move along.

  3. A human child is playing beside your river. Practicality dictates you emerge and coax the poppet onto your back to bring home with you, but you reason that if you do this, you will be setting a precedent, and before we know it our streams will be over-full. Besides, waterlogged humans are poor conversationalists.

All of this may seem an overabundance of caution, but too numerous are the tales in which a human appears to have gotten what it deserves, only for the clever thing to slither out at the last moment. This is especially true of orphans, princesses, and poor woodcutters.

In summation, the best way to deal with humans is to avoid them. They may seem dumb and petty and easily broken — and they are — but they can also be stubborn and tricky and unpredictable, and where there is one, there are sure to be others. Don’t underestimate them, don’t panic, and always be prepared. Unfortunately, for the time being, humans seem to be here to stay.