We all love fairy tales growing up. The great adventures, the handsome princes, the gorgeous maidens -- these tales have been etched in our memories.
But what if these fairy tales are given a twist? What if the stakes have changed?
The Oh My! Antho...
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"Okay. That should be the last one, Cap'n," Rattenfänger said and waved the writhing sack in Captain Wilheim's face. The middle-aged man jerked back at the claws smacking against the fabric and the frantic squealing coming from inside.
Space rats were disgusting little vermin. Much like the rats Earth got yet with six legs, a long tentacle tail for grabbing and holding their food as they munched and rows of tiny yet sharp needle point fangs. And the screech they produced was a cross between an Earth fox and an Earth Owl. It was piercing enough to make anyone nearby cover their eyes and clench their teeth in a cringe.
Rattenfänger's lips curved into a sharp-tooth grin and amusement twinkled in his large, black eyes at Captain Wilheim's open disgust at the alien in the bag. Those round eyes were unblinking, mainly because he didn't have eyelids, as he tossed the sack into the cart with the other bagged up space rats.
"And you'll take them to be burnt?" Captain Wilheim asked.
The grin disappeared from the alien exterminator's orange-tinted face. "Absolutely not. They'll go back to the planet you snatched them from. A bit of respect is needed here, Cap'n."
"We did not snatch them. They came aboard the Hamelin when we landed."
"Curious little things," Rattenfänger cooed, smiling down at the wriggling sacks. "They go wherever they smell food. Keen senses, you see. They can smell from miles away. Compliments to your chef for making some fine meals. No, sir, I'll take them back into me little ship and set them free in their natural habitat. They didn't do no wrong."
Captain Wilheim sniffed loudly, turning up his nose at Rattenfänger's plan. "Not exactly our agreement."
"Better than the torture you want to put them through. And that was our agreement. You asked me to get rid of the space rats. I did exactly that, I did."
"By singing?"
Rattenfänger hooked his hands behind his back, straightening with his chin raised in a wide smile. "Me species are the best exterminators in the Saxony Galaxy. Our voices hypnotise our chosen target and they follow. Pain-free, torture-free and gets the job done like that." He snapped his long, bony fingers. "No need for unnecessary killing, Cap'n. Now, I'll take me payment and be off with ya. Thirty Deutsche Marks, please."
Captain Wilheim looked the orange hand that was extended out to him, palm upright and ready to take the money owed to him.
"Funny..." Captain Wilheim said, rubbing his chin. "Funny how we've had trouble catching these space rats and yet all you need to do is waltz in here, sing and they suddenly coming out of their little hidey-holes."
Rattenfänger's hand dropped and those bottomless pits for eyes narrowed. "Just what are ya suggesting there, Cap'n? You radioed me, remember?"
"Thirty is an awfully high price to charge for a simple yodelling. I'm afraid I don't exactly trust your skills, Rattenfänger. There shall be no payment."
