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While the two lads of the group went off with baseless confidence in their peanut pinging skills, hoping to score the dosh for a few drinks in the process from the other patrons. Leaving Butters with the last Human of the group, after buying them both a cider she introduces herself as Chelsea. Butters had been too harsh on their initial assessment of her being 'another one', she actually did scrub up clean. The way she cut up her sports jumper around the midriff with her string vest poking out, matching perfectly with her fishnet gloves. Also her lilac hair seeping out of her beanie was a look too. Main character energy. Up close Butters can admit the first thing they were reminded about was: "Oh shit, I'm gay." Butters transitioned from a point of confidence to feeling like tiny little weakling gay, about to die from the shakes. They start the arduous task of continuing the small talk.

-So what do you do? Butters recites from a index of 'Things to say because if there's a silence for more then 5 seconds I've fucked it and I WILL die.'

-Gosh what do I do, what do I do. Chelsea replies looking up to the ceiling.

-Oh is that a loaded question?

-I mean kind of! Just have to think of the kind of reply people want to hear when asking that.

The Human puts down her glass of Cider and she too is clearly cycling through an index of replies. Like doesn't she want the "Get [FAMILY RELATIVE] to stop inquiring into my life" answer, or the "Make [PARENT] not regret birthing me" one either. Also she was enjoying talking to Butters so "Reply to end small talk as soon as possible" didn't work either.

-Well I mean on paper I'm slowly trudging my way through this arts undergrad, that's the adult "What do you do?" The actual "What Do I Do" is: Roller derby.

-That is like, in the top 50 of coolest ways to end that reply, are you in a team?

-Yes! The Light(ning) Morning Jogs. Though we've only just got together, I still can't do a lap around the rink without falling on my arse.It's me and a bunch of girls learning to skate together kinda?

-Oh right, I mean is that why...

Butters looks down at Chelsea's roller-skates which she was precariously trying to balance on this entire time, spilling drops of her raspberry cider down her jumper as she tries to hold her glass still as she drinks.

-Yeah of course, how I see it is if I can keep still doing mundane stuff then it'll be easier doing the skating itself! She explains.

Her feet slowly slide more away from the bar as she tried to put her glass of cider down, practically aligning horizontally by the time she puts the glass down.

-Honestly? I'm surprised they let me in here like this. She admits, slowly dragging her feet back to usual position. So what do you do?

Butters stretches their arms forward and they stand upright in a very profound looking start to reciting an impressive track record of "What do you do?" but in reality: "Get [FAMILY RELATIVE] to stop inquiring into my life" answer? No. "Reply to end small talk as soon as possible?" NO!

-Yeah, well... Hmmm. Um, well actually it's funny you mention undergrad I just finished mine! Butters cobbles together.

-Ooohhh? Replies Chelsea. What was it in?

-Oh just a joint English and Psychology degree, all to prepare me for a Masters in a field of study that'll stop existing just as I finished up my course!

Butters follows this up with a preformative shrug and a smile that says "My future is vaporised, but maybe it's funny? Actually?"

-Ooooffff that's rough, why's that?

-Oh y'know, Tory cuts. No pesky Humanities department teaching people morals and that.

-God tho what are you gonna do now? Do you need to a slot on the derby team?

Chelsea lifts up her foot on the side of the bar. Butters laughs, before briefly considering it for a micro second. Then immediately recalling how painful their last attempt at ice skating was and politely declines.

-Nah nah I'm working atm. I'm a... Oh gosh I forgot the proper title, like a... Helper With The Legal for Monsters with this little firm: Monstrous in Mercia.

-Oh, I mean that sounds vaguely important. The Legal, and all that.

-Yeah it's important I guess, for the 2 months anything you know or learn is relevant before the Tories put up 50 rules to make sure Monsters can't even get a crumb of the help they're entitled to. Then I dunno what are we?

Chelsea looks at Butters with a tinge of concern.

-I mean I think you're supposed to say that with a hint of pride, but it sounds soul crushing coming from you. She says.

-God, if you'd of asked me like 7 years ago about this stuff I would've been buzzing. How this stuff is what can change the world for Monsters! And all that pap.

Butters downs the rest of their cider as they talk.

-But it's just you're helping Monsters cope in the system, but that system isn't changing, in fact it's getting actively worse. We're just playing catch up to circumvent more legislation designed to kill us. You just hope someone else is doing the work elsewhere to remove Humans ability to make our lives actively so that our workload of 'Keeping up' will mean something but...

Butters gets in the habit of over-analyzing this interaction, they can't help it. That feeling's back, the one from before. The burning feeling like they've just stepped on a landmine. They can see it in Chelsea's face, that this convo is a downer, but being a Monster is kind of a downer right now! But that look on her face, it's not one of sadness or empathy. Just one of waiting, one that knew Butters had crossed a taboo, what business is it of a Human to hear of a Monsters suffering? It was a look of waiting, knowing "You're smart enough to know I don't wanna hear this, I'll just wait for you to stop."

Look, again I can see it too, but Butters cannot. In fact they agree, they didn't come out tonight to be reminded about being a Monster, when they were talking about the Human and what she liked, that felt nice! Butters decides to go back to that:

-Y'know now I'm thinking about it, you'd make a great roller derby star you know. Butters suggests.

-Oh shucks, you're too kind. Chelsea says betraying the fact Butters saying that was the base level expectation of reply she was looking for. What do you reckon my derby persona would be?

-Have you not thought of anything yet?

-Naaaah, not even a name! I feel like I need to get the name idea from -Someone- else.

Chelsea then coughs as she shoves her elbow into the side of Butters.

-Cos if anyone asks it'll be a story to tell the papers you know? She continues.

-I mean it's deffo a lot more cooler then just going: "I just made it up."

-If people hear the idea came from a Monster too, it'll be a hands across the isle moment. I can be the Monster Ambassador of Roller Derby!

Butters had a hard time pushing the bile down, while simultaneously biting their tongue with every syllable of that statement. While muggins there is perfectly capable of utilising the integrity required to walk away from another 'Well Meaning Ally' the problem is it takes so little to compromise that integrity. Even someone just referring to Butters in a not-actively-hostile manner is enough to turn the Squirrel into mulch. Honestly? Butters is so touched starved that all it took was The Human brushing the side of her fingers on to Butters paws and fuck it, yeah they'll let a hundred of those 'Big Ally' comments slide. So when Chelesea grasped Butters whole paw, interlocking their fingers? That's good for cashing in a thousand comments or not talking them out of posting the "What Humans can do for Monsters [1/56]" thread.

The conversation had stopped dead, both the Monster and the Human just started staring at their hands interlocking, giggling as both hopelessly tried to find something to say.

-This could be your derby gimmick you know. Says Butters eventually breaking the combo of giggles.

-The hand holder?? Asks Chelsea.

-Yeah, it can be your signature move. Like find the other queer person on the other team, hold their hand and like clothesline all the other team!

Chelsea laughed at the suggestion before correcting Butters:

-First of all, it's derby Butters, no one there is straight. And second, oh my god? You don't wrestle people in Roller derby???

-Yeah exactly, it'll give you the edge. Gay violence wins.

-Derby's first planned fatality?

-Can't you see the post-mortem documentary of it? Camera slowly pans to you in front of the fireplace, aged 60. A voice goes: "Derby used to be a safe sport for everyone, that changed after Chelsea the Slayer ushered in: The era of combat"

Chelsea spits out her drink as she laughs, almost tipping over on her skates. The two were in hysterics and after a while they both go quiet, while Chelsea looks Butters up and down grinning ear to ear.

-You know, I'm really glad you came over to speak to me. Begins Chelsea as she runs her fingers through the fur on Butters paw.

-Y.. Yeah? Replies Butters, absolutely losing their rag at the slightest hint of sincerity.

When Chelsea's fingers reaches the start of Butters wrist, she clasps it tight as she drags Butters closer to her. The ridge of her nose lightly brushes against Butters snout, feeling her slowly accelerating breathing on the cheeks of their face. After the passing of a decades long second, Butters leans in to eradicate any distance that remained between them. Butters runs their paws down the back of her hair, as they press their lips softly onto hers. This is serene. The blood as come back to their veins, their skin? Moisturised from a dusty grave. Their lifespan? Add another five years. God and she smelled so good, every sensory facet is getting in on it. This was what they were excited for the entire day for, they suddenly felt so small. Just another spec of noise in the background, no longer seen. Just seen by this one person they needed to be seen by, not just to be seen but how they're being seen. Just 1 day out of the 365, where they are seen as passionately and as beautiful as they feel themselves, in contrast to the other 364 where all forces of society convince them their worth in themselves is not a shared belief. It's comfort, it's a little power, someone of immense beauty sharing this perception they covert with Butters. Man it's good to feel good. Butters heart is beating so fast, their smile almost extending off their face. It's good.

Both persons pull away from each other, Chelsea making sure to keep Butters paw grasped in their hand even after the fact. She's the one to break the scilence first

-So um, yeah like I said. Real glad you swung on by.

Butters can only bring themselves to chuckle along in reply, still not mastering the art of regaining cognition post-Little Kissy. While recompiling themselves, Chelsea clutches one of Butters paws in-between their hands. Slowly she starts to studying it closely as she lightly traces the rip of her finger up and down though Butters' fur. They could see Chelseas' breathing was starting to get a little laboured, all while her gaze remained unwavered from the claw she was grasping. Butters' was already in a place of hysteria (in a good way) so this made it easy to slip into a hysteria (in a bad way) while so much attention was focused on a monstrous part of them. The burning feeling comes back, coursing though their body, a maddening noise.

But before it could take hold, Chelsea raises the paw and stares Butters in the eyes as her lips just lightly graze the fur at the back of Butters' paw. Never breaking eye contact with the Squirrel as she slowly gives gentle kisses, increasing in intensity, up their paw, to their index finger and ending by slightly biting the very tip of their nail between her teeth.

-I can't wait until you scratch my back out with these later.

Butters is hit with a conflict, two reactions on two polar opposites of the spectrum blaring inside of their head. The awareness of their monstrous aspects has hit an all time fever high, their flesh and blood almost being rendered invisible. the weight of their paws, their ears and tail now feel more than they could possibly sustain. Butters plays out a scenario of walking out of the pub in their head, they imagine their body has collapsed in on itself and they've just become a set of claws, feet and tail with ears and a big nose all collapsed together. They imagine needing to use the claws to drag across the floor the collage of sentient features they've become. Or perhaps they walked out as they were, but a crowd of humans were waiting outside for them, ready to tear their claws and tail straight from their sockets. Leaving Butters there on the pavement, cleansed, pure, in agony.

But on the other side of the pull, to have these parts of them spoken about with such affection, it's something that rarely ever happens across the board. They find the worries and theorising from their own mind about the fetishising nature of it almost annoying. It's attention! Positive attention! That's the entire point of coming out tonight wern't it? It's nice to feel so big in a room, in a way that doesn't designate danger, darkness, destruction or death.

Is that comfort more important? Or the hot scratchy sex? That safety that comes with the control of their perceptions? Or sexual satisfaction? Withholding their ability to rock this human's world for the principle of the thing? Or Big Fuck? A perfect cocktail of shame, anticipation, anger, Being Very Tired and that craving for acceptance all just coming together in a messy froth. This level of thinking is too much, can't they just go back to the kissing again? That was good!

Unfortunately Chelsea starts to back out of her chair and stands up.

-Well it's been a minute, I better check what the two knob cheeses I came here with are up too. She announces.

But before walking away, she grabs the bottom of Butters' chin and gives her a light kiss on the lips.

-But don't you dare leave without me.