"What the fuck, Viv. You are almost 30, geez. Just settle the fuck down! You are going to end up a crazy human lady if you don't hurry u-" Viv cut the call down. Well, there wasn't much more to say. Her mother was angry. As expected. After all, Viv did purposely miss the umpteenth blind date of the months. She just did not bother with an excuse this time.
Viv sighed. It was her day off. Why the hell would she spend it with an obnoxious Kylion or Motser or whatever intergalactic species her mum would think could be a good party for her emancipated daughter? She liked her quiet, thank you very much. It was annoying how not wanting to have a family was still such a big deal. It was 36789 for fuck's sake. Well, her mum would have to come around eventually. After all, Viv had no intention of planting her eggs in a fertile womb anytime soon. She sighed, taking a seep of her Andesite frappuccino. Martian rocks tasted so fucking good. It was worth the 62 holosterlings she splashed on it.
She took another sip of her drink and opened her Xenogram on her tablet. She scrolled quickly through the beautiful landscapes (how many pictures of Jupiter's ring could someone bear?) and her boss's humble brag about her new antler's colour. She did give a like to her neighbour's new set of matching tentacle warmers. Her two hearts started pumping when she found a new Intergalactic Petshop Post. God. They had a new batch of humans. They were just so damn cute, fuck, with their little round ears (so naughty!), soft hair and tiny bodies. They were just so small, compared to all the other Galaxy species.
On one thing, her mum was right. Viv really, really liked humans. More than her fellow Kylions, really. They were smart enough to have a conversation, silly enough to be a continuous source of entertainment.
Viv went through the photo shoot, making sure to like every single snap. The humans --- a mixed group of five -- were obviously pure breed, likely from the same facility. Light hair, perfect features, prominent nipples. Despite the playfulness of the puppy piles, they were obviously trained, as the only restraint shown in the picture was the shop collar tight around their neck. There was no price -- just a number for the possible inquiries. That meant that they were well beyond Viv's wage as a Research assistant at Ganymede's Community College.
Still.
As she finished her frappuccino, Viv xoodled the address of the local pet shelter. It was time to prove her mum right. What was so wrong in being a crazy human lady anyway?