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A Hot Dyke & A Rat Named Butter

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Judith Deuteros sat, as usual, slumped against cold metal. The BOE guard assigned to watch her that day, though, was starting to doze off. As much as Judith wanted to fantasize about escape, she knew she'd never make it past the outer walls in her current state.

"You're not wrong, but it never hurts to dream," said a small voice.

Judith tensed, looking around for the source of the voice. "Down here," it said. She looked down to see a tiny vertebrate mammal, perhaps once white, now glowing a sickly green with thanergy.

"My name's Butter," it said. "Something about your efforts to heal went wrong and brought me back to life. And I can talk now. And I have psychic powers. Anyway, I know you're sad and I know you're a dyke. I know the type all too well."

Judith bristled at the little creature's forwardness. Something about its strange terminology sat especially uneasily in her gut. But the mammal's certainty in its own jargon sparked her curiosity -- or was it a jolt of recognition somewhere deep inside her?

She reached out a hand to the small beast and it clambered onto her palm, then skittered up her arm to perch on her shoulder, shedding sparks of phosphorescence as it went.

"Of course I'm sad. I've been taken prisoner for uncertain and nefarious reasons, my body is an absolute wreckage, my captors won't let me die, and I'm stuck here with..." she trailed off, unable to name the princess and in so doing admit Coronabeth's claim on her attention. But she flushed. She hoped the creature would chalk it up to her fever.

"Okay, dyke," said Butter.

“I am unfamiliar with that term,” Judith said brusquely. “I am a Cohort Captain, and you should address me by my proper title, even in this state.”

Butter made an odd little sound, that, in her compromised state, Judith almost thought could be a laugh. “Okay, Captain Dyke,” she said.

Judith was in too much pain to protest again. She knew the creature was onto her. Butter’s glow was stronger now.

“So, who is she? Don’t underestimate me based on my stature — I’m a powerful wing woman. Or — wing rat.” She moved her tiny little hands together as if plotting.

“SHE is radicalized by terrorists! SHE is learning how to shoot a gun! SHE is allowing herself to forget where we came from!” The yelling hurt Judith’s stitches.

“Okaaaay, Captain Dyke. Easy there,” Butter remarked.

“It’s the blonde, right? The voluptuous blonde with the ponytail?”

Judith began, “I never said —“ but Butter was too quick for her.

“Remember, I have psychic powers now,” said Butter the Rat.

“She is very obviously into you. Has been for years, dummy. People don’t just fake injuries like that. You really are a useless lesbian.”

Butter scoffed. Judith was in too much pain to defend herself.

“Trust me,” Butter said, and scuttled out of the room.

The door opened again and Judith prepared herself for another argument with her tiny foe.

Instead, Corona walked in, twirling her hair around her finger.

“I heard all of that, Jody,” she said.