Handsome… for a Goblin!


Fred was sitting in an office, waiting. His red skin was glowing as if it were brimming with confidence. He was oozing because of the hot summer, but he knew nobody would notice or even care at all. He had handed over his resume the week before, and now the recruiter called him and said that the director was ready to interview him personally. Fred was ready. He heard his name being called: “You can go in, the director’s free right now”.

Fred knew he looked real fine, and he was a handsome goblin too. Lots of goblins had told him over the years that he was the finest reddy they’d ever seen. So he turned that knob with his tiny, red hand, carefully looking out for his long fingernails. The director told him to come in.

“Hello, Fred the Goblin, I was told you were looking for a position here, I’m flattered that you thought of applying to this nice, little agency”.

“Well, you know, you are one of the best modelling agencies in the country”.

“Still, being the only one in Hermosillo, and knowing that you chose us… I feel like I’m drafting the top pick of the year!”.

Fred was smiling, showing his teeth awkwardly, and touching the left side of his chest with his little goblin hand. Only a minute had passed, and he was already sick of this half-elf. “So this fucker called me Fred the Goblin. Shit, Blondie, you’re looking at my fucking name right there on my resume! No need to call me a fucking goblin, I know what I am!”, he would say some hours later to his giggling girlfriend, “Damn… Elves are the worst. Humans are a bit nicer, but they are some greedy bastards. You’d think long-lasting elf-years would incite more of a material greed, but it is the humans that go nuts for gold and jewels and shit”.

“It is an honor to even be considered, Mr. Lightbringer”, Fred said, “Sir, you were rocking the stage even before my grandfather was born.”

“That’s right! I know they seem like a lot of years, but you’ll get along. And you’ll see your life will become fast-paced from now on”, Mr. Lightbringer said, “And I see here that you speak Elvish, that is great! That is just fantastic”.

“Yeah, I taught myself in middle school, I wanted to read the classics”, and Fred felt a little awkward.

“Oh, which are your favorite writers?”.

“Well, you know, Erevadur, Jofanes, Bincy”.

“Ah, that’s real nice, real nice. I haven’t read Jofanes, is he good?”.

“He is great. He was the first author to completely changed my life”.

“Quite the statement! Not as good as Erevadur, though, right?”.

“Two completely different authors…”, Fred said grimacing.

“Anyways, let’s get on to business. You are the best model in Hermosillo, and you have tons of experience. I am impressed. I didn’t imagine you were so well prepared. You are an emerging little rockstar. So tell me: why do you want to be a professional model?”.

Fred kept fidgeting. Why did he feel so nervous? This was not the first important half-elf he had talked to in his life. Besides, Mr. Lightbringer had lost all of his former glory. Fred just wanted this gig to pay some bills. The office was brand new, but kitsch. It had brick walls, with the bricks out in the open, a style he thought was getting out of hand in Hermosillo. Mr. Lightbringer had a round pair of glasses, with little stars, barely noticeable, as a polka dot pattern. His long, shining, blond hair contrasted with his green blazer, like vivid colors of an abstract painting. He had his long fingers intertwined, dandling his thumbs together, and his elbows on the desk. “Mr. Lightbringer is still gorgeous even after all these years”, Fred thought. He recalled that time in elementary school when he participated in an orthography contest. It was a weird event where a local newspaper would gather the best students to write down strange words, and to look for adjectives and weird adverbs in a newspaper, clip them, and store them in an envelope. He hated that contest. “There were many annoying grown-ups”, Fred said to his parents, just nine years old, “they were telling me that I should read books, like the Little Prince or The Chronicles of Narnia. I hate human tales; they are so boring”. The first place won a brand-new PC with a scholarship to learn Elvish. “What is so great about Elvish, anyways?”, little Fred thought.

“I want to be a professional model because I feel I am ready, and it’s always been a dream of mine ever since I was a teenager. I like the attention”.

“Yes! I like that. The attention is what drives you to be better. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“I want to be a world-class model. I want brands to pursue me because I represent a different and specific style”, Fred said, playing the goblin card.

“Fantastic! I have a feeling that you will achieve it, if you follow my instructions, of course”.

To follow instructions is to win in life, his mother told him when he was a little goblin. He knew he had a thousand elf-butts to kiss before becoming famous. That is why he learned Elvish, but ultimately, he really did love the classics. Jofanes was the first elf to write a modern novel, way back when the races were first starting to get along. He wrote highly of everyone, but especially of goblins, whom he considered had the most outstanding features of all the races. He helped elves and humans understand them.

“I’m willing to offer you the best deal ever for a rookie in the major leagues: 15.000 pesos a month”, said the half-elf expecting a glow in the goblin’s eyes, “of course, I’ll cover any travel expenses outside of the city, as well as meals. This is only the beginning. By the end of the first year we will probably go to the capital, where you’ll be among the best models in the country and the whole world”.

Fred could not believe it. He was the most handsome goblin and had the most experience as a model in the state. “This fucking preppie is going to pay me like a motherfucking marketing manager”, thought Fred. He stared at the slender, three meters tall half-elf, and remembered he had some bills to pay and said: “what the hell, I’m in”.

Mr. Lightbringer stared at him for a second, and then extended his hand. Fred shook it. His little reddy hand looked like a pretty, red robin among branches of a huge, white tree. His nails, jet black. The elf’s nails, Amsterdam green. Fred carefully pushed the chair under the desk, said ‘thank you’, and left. He stopped for a cup of water from a dispenser near the entrance, and he heard Mr. Lightbringer’s voice, down the hall, say: “You know, he is gorgeous… for a goblin. Quite dumb though”. And his secretary started laughing and said: “well, he is a fuckin reddy after all”.

It was night, and the food truck park was already packed full. Many young people were coming in, happy to have a drink, eat something, enjoy some music, and go home wasted. It was the weekend in Hermosillo, after all, and there was nothing to do but go to a bar and get wasted. Fred started walking, in a daze, his head almost bursting, clasping his teeth together. “He is gorgeous… for a goblin!”, he kept repeating to himself, “and what was that shit about speaking Elvish… any dumbass can learn to speak another language. Fuckin secretary bitch too”. He reached for a cigarette inside his blazer’s pocket, lit it, and sat down on a wooden bench. It was then that he remembered that he was in the park, where the little holiday lights made his skin look orange, and his eyes lime green. He hated it. He hated the people there, the smug humans acting like elves, spending their daddy’s salary in a single weekend, drinking craft beer, and eating seafood. But everything that had to do with young business happened there, from modelling to skateboarding, it all happened there with the hipsters.

He looked up and saw this human girl and a half-elf couple ordering a pizza at a food truck. The half-elf had a custom, perfect-fit suit, with a t-shirt white as a summer cloud. The girl was wearing a pink top with white shorts and sandals, showing her pink-painted toenails. “I can practically hear them: ‘you know babe, the idea for my store came to me when I was snowboarding in Switzerland. There is not a skating store here in Hermosillo, so I’m going to set up one’”, thought Fred with a smirk, “and the girl is probably saying: ‘that is a pretty good idea! I’ve always wanted to buy sandboarding gear here, but you just can’t find it anywhere. It sucks! But hey, let’s take a selfie of this moment, us going on our first official date”.

Fred then heard a man pontificating on cinema, sitting in a table nearby: “It’s just that people don’t understand the importance of David Robin’s style. He revolutionized action-packed, deep thinking movies. I’m sure he will win the Oscar this year, no doubt about it in my mind. After that, he can commit seppuku. He’s already in the Pantheon of the Great”. The goblin didn’t even need to look at the guy. He knew he was a 35-year-old-something male with a shirt and khaki shorts, those shoes that look like pieces of bread, and thick glasses to boot. “This man needs to share his cinema knowledge with the whole fucking bar!”, mumbled Fred with a fresh cigarette between his lips, “otherwise us basic people will keep watching superhero movies!”.

He was already fed up with the place. After that disastrous interview, and the low-paying job he took, Fred was fuming like his middle-earth ancestors. He wondered how much he would last as a little goblin plunderer, trying to snatch some meat and women from a local human village, always hiding in caves and being on the run all the time. Millenia had passed and he was glad to live in the present, not having to run away every night from knights and archer elves. Nowadays you ran away from human fascists with automatic rifles, but not in this country. In this country you ducked every time you heard and saw a convoy of black, reinforced, 4×4 pickup trucks, just in case there was a shootout.

“Where is Emily?”, Fred kept wondering, “did she forget?”.

He kept thinking about the country’s situation. He felt it was going to get worse any time soon. Maybe in five years, when the abyss between elves and goblins became inscrutable. He wanted to leave for Canada, start a new life there, maybe as a barista, daydreaming of becoming an actor while serving some rich dude his daily latte. He did not want to be an actor, but serving coffee while daydreaming about it and being able to walk home drunk without a care in the world… that was the easy way out. Emily, on the other hand, did not have anything to worry about. As a half-elf, she had enough money to live on the safe side of the city. Even if a civil war broke out, her family would take her with them to Europe, or wherever they would be safe and comfortable. Hell, it is the goblins’ fault if they all die, right? The last century was proof of that, they thought. “At least the elves don’t lie, they know it was their fault, and the human one percenters’ too”, said Fred to himself.

“Hey! Are you talking to yourself again?”, a bubbly voice appeared out of nowhere. Then he recognized it among the laughing and crying of drunk people, “congratulations, baaaaabe!”.

“Hello, Emily, I thought you’d forgotten. I got the job, Mr. Lightbringer was a real ass”.

“Oh my god! I knew you’d get it. And also, how could you think that, babe?  I know it’s your big day, my beautiful model. Let’s go to the bar already, the guys are all there!”.

The ‘guys’, “bunch of preppie humans and half-elves”. He hated these ‘self-absorbed assholes’. But Emily was sexy, and beautiful, and she was fun. What else do you need at twenty-four? Besides, he was going to leave for Canada, he did not care about their future. “If standing some privileged half-elves, or whatever, is the requisite for having some great sex, then it’s worth it”, he’d say.

They walked to the bar and Emily went rushing to a three-meter tall half-elf, squealing with excitement, and they hugged. “I haven’t seen you in like, forever”. Fred hated that dumb joke. This group gathered every week. “Girl, are you ready to shake your ass to ‘Savage’, you know I’m ready”.

“Bitch, I was born ready! You remember my boyfriend, Fred”.

“Yeah, he’s the handsome model”.

“Hey, Cynthia, nice seeing you again!”, said Fred with fake excitement. “I’m still waiting for that drink you owe me!”

“Oh shit! I kept hoping you’d forget”.

A huge, burly elf grabbed Cynthia from the waist and said: “Hi, I’m Brad. I’m Cynthia’s boo”.

“Oh. My. God. Cynthia, he’s totally gorge! Congratulations, you are the best couple I’ve seen!”, said Emily.

And this is where Fred disconnected from his brain a bit. He knew that a couple of beers in he’d be back, and with a little more cheerfulness. He said hi to Margaret, and to his boyfriend Jerry. This guy was a stocky dwarf, and Margaret was a human girl that spent her whole day at the gym. She wanted to be a fitness model, and Jerry wanted to start a business with someone, preferably with a guy that would party every weekend. Fred had to reject his offer of a business venture yet again.

“So, I finally put down some crypto-investments. I got 3000 dollars worth of Traxals. And here’s the best part: my guy constantly trades it, and the ROI is like 2% a month, how crazy is that?”, shouted Jerry.

“What the fuck is a Traxal?”, Brad blurted out. “Is it like a Bitcoin?”.

“It’s better than a Bitcoin, bro, it’s like their own personal coin that represents a percentage of their volume trade. Whenever they make money I make money. My guy trades all day, and I receive some more Traxals”.

“But why not just buy the Bitcoin or the ETH and store it yourself?”, said Fred, “Those two just grew like 20% last month. Are you also paying your guy?”.

“I pay him a small, monthly fee. What you don’t know is that those two coins are volatile as fuck. The last 6 months I earned 500 dollars worth of Traxals, just from my 2000 dollars investment alone. And besides, I don’t have to do anything”.

“Fuck yeah, dude!”, Brad shouted as he clapped, “can your guy get me in, too?”.

“ETH’s price alone went from around 100 dollars to 400 dollars, why are you paying that guy?”, Fred said, confused as if he was missing a detail there.

“Okay, Brad, yeah, I’ll give your number to my guy. And Fred, like I told you man, my guy does everything, I don’t need to worry. That’s why I pay him. Besides, this is just for fun, I’m going to Mars next summer, so whatever”.

Fred could feel Emily’s ashamed look on him, as if he was the one being stupid. “Anyways,”, said Emily, “Fred is now an official model under the Lightbringer. We’re celebrating here, that’s the big news!”. Everyone cheered and congratulated Fred, but he just kept thinking about that miserable pay he’d get every month. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to start as a professional model under that guy. They were constantly going to remind him that he was handsome… for a goblin.

“Everyone on this table is probably saying the same thing as Mr. Lightbringer, and now they probably think I’m dumb”, thought Fred, “I’m fucking leaving”.

He went up and said he was going to the restroom, and afterwards he’d go for something he forgot in the car. Everyone was drunk anyways; they didn’t mind much. So he took a piss, he went over to his car, lit a cigarette, and just stood there, looking at Mars. It was visible that night, and he loved seeing that red spot in the night sky. He was tired of being just that goblin that got lucky, with a glamorous future ahead of him – after 5 years of torture and sexual harassment, of course –. He finished his smoke and went back to the table. There was another friend there, a gay human male.

Hey, babe, it’s Gabriel”.

“Hello, nice to meet you, I’m Fred”.

“Hi! Emily and I go waaaay back. We were besties in middle school, you know. She was always there for me, and when I finally mustered up the courage to come out, it was all thanks to her”.

Awwww, you’re gonna make me cry, Gabe!”.

“Yeah, she’s told me all about it, that’s what I like about her, she’s got a big heart”, Fred said, smiling. He had forgotten this side of Emily.

“I know, she’s the best!”, Gabriel said, looking straight into Emily’s eyes. You could almost reach out and touch this genuine love. “Congratulations, by the way! I’ve seen your shots; you are a going to be a great model!”.

“Thank you!”, and this time Fred really meant it.

Brad and Jerry were talking about the parties they used to go to when they were in high school and college, and the girls were gossiping about some friends Fred didn’t know at all. Gabriel was really bored, but Fred didn’t know what to say to him. “For a gay guy he’s quite reserved”, Fred thought.

“So, what do you do, Gabriel?”, Fred asked, “I think Emily mentioned you were a doctor?”.

“Yeah, I’m a surgeon. I’ve just graduated, in fact”.

“This celebration should be about you, then!”.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I mean, I love it, but I know it’s only the beginning”.

“I see”, Fred said, wondering what to ask him next, “So, is it true that doctors are some horny motherfuckers?”.

“Yeah, they are! I must have had like 20 colleagues trying to hit it with me. I’m not like that though. I had a boyfriend for like 5 years, but after a while we got a little bit bored with each other. Just the same thing over and over again, you know? And then, he cheated on me”.

“Oh man, I’m sorry. When did it happen?”.

“Don’t worry, it was a long time ago. I still wonder whether I’ll marry or even just stay in a long-term relationship again. It felt fantastic, but the monotony of it just chewed off what we had. The last week we were together felt dry, pointless. But hey, that’s just me”.

“It’s okay, I understand. I mean, everyone doubts their relationship from time to time, right?”.

“I came to the conclusion that it was his fault. He just stopped being nice, he took me for granted, and all those cliches you can hear from old, divorced ladies”. They both laughed, and Gabriel said “he was a pain in the ass, though”.


“I mean, not with me, but with our friends and our colleagues. It took me a while to realize that he’s so fuckin pretentious”.

“What do you mean?”.

“Do you like to read?”.

“Yeah, but not as much as I used to”, said Fred looking downwards.

“This guy would have started going: ‘you should read more, throw out your TV, if you have time for Instagram you have time for War and Peace’. He just kept babbling about literature to people that didn’t care about it, and the worst part is that he just spit names out, a real namedropper, you know? I mean, what is the point of him saying: ‘Oh, have you read One Hundred Years of Solitude?’, and the other person going: ‘yeah, I’ve read it, it’s a masterpiece’, and then both of them just saying: ‘yeah, it’s a beautiful book’. Isn’t it the same as saying ‘hey, did you catch the Lakers game last night’?”.

“Well, I guess. But it’s true that we should read more and stay off social media”, said Fred, again looking downwards.

“This one time he started saying to a friend of mine that he should read more, that life is too short to be stupid. And I just had to stop him and say that he was being a pretentious douchebag. He got mad, of course, but I spoke to the poor guy he was berating and told him: ‘just ignore him, he just starts complaining all the time’. This guy and me kept talking for a while. He finally understood my point. Just do whatever makes you happy, you know. I agree on the social media thing, those things are evil. But regarding that other thing, just fuckin do what makes you happy. That’s what I say to everyone that says that they feel that they should read more”.

Fred was happy to finally have someone to talk to at these gatherings. Even better, someone as smart and carefree as Gabriel. When he told Emily about the job, she just said: “I knew you’d get it, you’re fucking gorge”. But Gabriel asked him questions all night: “Why did you decide to model? What drove you to this life? How did you make a name for yourself in such a short time?”. Emily just thought that he was hot as fuck. “What’s even the point of going out with her?”, this question kept popping inside Fred’s mind all night.

When he was still in college, a friend of his used to tease him that he was a pussy, that ‘no goblin should worry like a woman about shit like that’. Over the years he learned that this was not what he wanted, and that so-called friendship just vanished. He often thought about friendship.

“What do you think friendship is, Gabriel?”

“That is a deep question. I usually ask that myself too”, Gabriel said, covering his mouth with his fingers, “it is complicated and multifaced. Like, take my relationship with Emily, for example. You’d think we are not friends because we don’t see each other anymore, because we catch up every year or so. But, when we see each other, even if we talk for like 5 minutes, it’s like if a flame rekindled from the ashes of memories. Or even better yet, it’s like if we shared a region inside our brain, a map of neurons, that connects instantly and enables access to memories that we had given up for lost.”

“Wow, I mean, I understand that, and I’ve heard it multiple times, but I just haven’t felt that. I don’t think I have a single friend with whom I share that ‘brain region’ with. I don’t have any trouble making friends, but I don’t bother with talking to people much either”.

“Yeah, I could tell that earlier, before we started talking”.

“And here we are, celebrating my new job, and I don’t feel a thing. It just feels empty. You know what Mr. Lightbringer said? ‘He is gorgeous… for a goblin’. I’m tired of hearing that shit, but I don’t do anything about it. I just want to live without being called a redborn or a reddy or a fuckin goblin. I know what the fuck I am”, Fred picked up his drink, this time looking Gabriel directly into the eyes, “sorry, it’s just that I had a bad day, thinking about what the future has in store for me”.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize, it is a horrible situation”.

“Listen to me here, complaining about rejection with a gay human. You must think I’m a whiner. Hell, now I think I’m a whiner”, Fred started laughing. Gabriel asked him for a cigarette and they both started smoking.

“Look, I hate this place, I hate this town, and I hate this country. I don’t like to say it, but it’s true. I hate that when I was an intern, I made less than a fuckin welfare-sucking leech. It’s true, I made like 3000 pesos while these fuckers got like 5000. And I hated being treated like shit for being gay, people thinking I’m inhuman or an abomination. But I try not to think about it. I get mocked, I have people saying to me almost every day that I will go to hell, but I just try not to think about it. And regarding the welfare leeches, they’re just a symptom of this corrupted government. They have lost the will to live. People call you redborn, but you know it’s just fake courtesy. And redborns are on the verge of going berserk and starting riots. Even I want to sometimes. But what can we do against the elves? With them and the cartels, we don’t stand a chance. Half-elves, rich humans, they all just want to be elves, and they even have the nerve to say: ‘you just need to work harder’. It’s not our fault, man. I bet Brad and Jerry over there are kissing Bezos’ ass, or Musk’s or whatever. Dwarves adore famous engineers because they think those people are our saviors, always obsessed with their ‘hustle’ culture”.

Fred just kept nodding and nodding. He knew they were just complaining, him and Gabriel, but he needed to vent. Besides, by criticizing is how you knew things could be better. Fred thought, deep in his heart, that modelling was his way of making people happy. ‘One great outfit can lift up your spirits’, he’d say to someone, and this someone would laugh at him behind his back. But he loved looking fine every day, he really loved it. Just the thought of walking through his closet made him smile. Maybe that was why Gabriel understood him. ‘After all, gay humans are great dressers’, Fred would say.

They kept talking for an hour, and Gabriel left. Emily was completely drunk, so she didn’t even notice. She thought he was just going to the restroom. Then, Jerry and Margaret left. Finally, Cynthia and Brad too. Fred helped Emily get on her feet, and she insisted on taking a walk before they closed the food truck park. It was a beautiful night, with a beautiful full moon. They sat on a wooden bench.

“Your friend Gabriel is great, he is a great person”.

“Yeah, he’s a cool dude, the best! He’s so smart, but he’s not doing anything to earn more money, you know. That is a bummer”.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he should be making more money, right? I mean, he’s a surgeon”.

“Yeah, but he is only starting, they don’t pay the doctors much”.

“My friend Cynthia is driving an Audi, and she’s fresh out of college. I mean, I’m hustling every day, because I love stuff. For a gay guy he’s not very ambitious”.

Fred couldn’t believe Emily. “Just imagine if she knew how much I’m going to make. She’d start going that Brad is making more money at the law firm as a junior!”. What was he thinking going out with Emily? She admired these privileged douchebags. “Hell, she is even one herself! Do these people really think they’re the shit?”.

“But Gabriel is infinitely more prepared than Brad, let alone Jerry”, blurted out Fred. “It’s not even close”.

“So what, they’re making dough. Poor Gabriel is still driving around in that 2005 Honda”.

“No, their parents are making money, they’re just leeching off”.

“Babe, Brad’s a lawyer and Jerry’s an engineer with his own company!”.

“That would be impressive if they were living in the US, maybe. And Jerry, his company is shit. He still lives with his parents, but he drives around in that Mercedes to fool people. And he is 30! I bet the 20k a month he gets goes straight to the monthly fee”.

“So what, he gets along with his parents. And how would you know that his company is shit, you’re a model”.

“So because I’m a model I can’t know anything about anything else?”.

“I’d believe Jerry because he’s an actual engineer”.

Fred looked to the other side, started smoking and just stopped talking. He saw some waiters bringing some beers to some loud people, he could hear some girls saying that some guy was just a poor loser for choosing to be a graphic designer. Some half-elf girls were saying that they were dying to get an elf sugar daddy, so they wouldn’t have to worry about anything for the rest of their lives. Then he turned back to Emily and saw her scrolling through her Instagram feed. He wanted to end his relationship with her, right there. But it wouldn’t be nice, she was drunk.

“What do you think of people that just want to live? The people that are happy just earning enough for eating, drinking, and watching some TV every day”.

“Well, I mean, I don’t think they are the kind of people that will get far in life”.

“What kind of people do you think will?”.

“People like you, babe! And Cynthia, and Brad, and Jerry”.

“Not Gabriel?”.

“If he doesn’t get his game together, he won’t”.

“But he’s a surgeon, he’s already far in life!”.

“Baby, let’s just stop arguing about this. You better than everyone else know that you have to hustle to get far, and he’s not”.

Fred stood up and lit his last smoke. With one hand on his waist, the other holding the smoke, he stared at a photograph that showed Hermosillo from 100 years ago. The park had arranged a photo exhibit of the Settlement of Hermosillo. He saw some elves standing near some carriages, some dwarves looking at blueprints, and some humans negotiating in the back. Among them all, lots and lots of goblins. Beautiful, red goblins, serving lemonade, and tea, and coffee. They used to trim their nails back then because elves thought they were dangerous. His great-grandfather was just a kid when they founded this town. If only he knew that one of his kin was now a model in this godforsaken town.

“He is gorgeous… for a goblin”, Fred said to himself.

“What did you say, babe?”.

“That’s what Mr. Lightbringer said to his secretary on my way out. Gorgeous… for a goblin”.

“He said that? That’s fantastic. An elf saying that… you really are gorgeous”, said Emily with a glow in her eyes.

“A half-elf, and he was amazed that I spoke Elvish, like it was something uncanny”.

“That’s good! You know, when I met you I thought you were just a pretty face. I said to Cynthia: he is gorge. But after our first date, I almost fell in love with you. I remember being amazed that you spoke Elvish and liked to read, like really read. You took me by surprise”.

Fred sat down, a little shaken, not knowing if Emily was even aware of the stuff she was saying, and then:

“I remember saying to Cynthia the day after: he is really smart for a goblin”.

Fred crossed one leg, put his tiny little hand on top of it, and just stared directly at Emily. Those green eyes turned cruel, and Emily realized her mistake. His red skin looked ravishing under that October full moon. He kept looking at her, and then he remembered that Emily’s mother was in that old picture in front of him. He stared at the picture, and saw Emily’s mother smiling towards his husband, a tall elf who was the mayor of Hermosillo for 50 years. And here was Emily, a half-elf thrown into the good life because her mother got fucked by a crooked elf some decades ago. She was long gone, she was just a human after all. And now Emily did not have to work much because her sweet elf daddy sent her like 20k a month, because of a lawsuit. Just hustle and you’ll get far. Yeah, right. Fred stared at Emily again, and although he felt pity for her, tonight he was drunk and furious.

“You know, your mother was pretty lucky… for a fuckin’ human”.



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