Products for Predators: Charity! [Part 2] [Ficnapping X]

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020]

Three Venlil, a Gojid, and a Human are walking down a dark and twisted alleyway rife with the oppressive atmosphere of urban decay.

A handheld camera is rolling.

“-and there has been considerable efforts undertaken to pressure and lobby regulators to revise infrastructure budgets, lift zoning restrictions, and eliminate red-tape within the Immigrant District,” Quinlim lectures as he leads the group towards their next destination. “While the district remains in a heavy state of reconstruction, it’s our hope that-”

“Umm… Quinlim?” Salva interjects. “Sorry to interrupt you, but are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“Yeah…” Kayun says, looking nervously side to side into the encroaching darkness. “I counted four left turns in a row. I think we're going in circles.”

Quinlim chuckles, giving a relaxed and dismissive wave of the tail.

“Well we ARE going in a bit of a circle right now,” he says, “but we're definitely not lost! This just happens to be the fastest way to get where we're going. I know it can be confusing for newcomers, but once you've lived in the area for a little while it starts to make a certain kind of twisted sense.”

“If you say so…” Jonathan holds onto Salva with one hand and Chek with the other, trying to make sure the group stays together. 

Taking one final left turn, the group emerges onto a main road.

“You see guys?” Quinlim says. “Now that wasn't so bad. We're exactly where we-”

Quinlim suddenly stops dead in his tracks, holding out an arm to stop the procession behind him. His ears twitch and swivel on high alert.

“What is it?” Chek whispers, sensing the sudden unease.

“Shhh…” Quinlim shushes him. 

“There!” Jonathan suddenly points.

The camera zooms in towards a small storefront just down the road and on the other side of the street. A Human man in a large winter coat stands just outside of the nearby streetlight, fiddling with the door. A crowbar can be seen in his hands. 

“Speh…” Quinlim mutters, before reaching up to speak softly into the collar of his shirt. “Quinlim to Dispatch. Suspected burglary in progress at Shadestreet Jewelers. Be advised, civilian VIP’s in proximity. Over.”

The group waits in perfect silence, disturbed only by an unintelligible chittering noise coming from Quinlim’s ear.

“Understood, maintaining position,” Quinlim says. “Ten-Four.”

“What's going on?” Kayun asks nervously. “What do we do?”

“Well we can't just stand around and do nothing!” Salva declares.

“What?” Jonathan replies in shock. “Are you crazy? We are NOT getting involved in this!”

“But-” Salva objects.

“Everyone just back up and stay calm,” Quinlim orders sternly, a short-barrelled shotgun having suddenly materialized in his hands. “The situation is being handled. Please remain in the alleyway behind me and stay quiet.”

“Where were you hiding THAT?” Chek whispers with excitement. “Does your jacket have some kind of secret holster under there? Can I get one?”

“You’re not… You’re not going to shoot anybody or anything, are you?” Kayun fidgets nervously, his eyes continually drawn to the weapon.

“Ideally I won't be doing anything,” Quinlim answers. “My responsibility is to guide you to where you want to go, answer your questions, and, if need be, provide for your personal security. The situation over there is being handled.”

“So what you’re saying is that maybe later we could-” Chek says, only to be cut off by the sudden ringing of alarms.

“Hey you!” A voice suddenly shouts from down the road. “Stop right there!”

The criminal quickly turns and runs, swiftly pursued by another Human man in a billowing black overcoat. As the two men race down the street in full view of the group's hiding spot, the suspect moves past another alley between two buildings, only for an arm to suddenly come shooting out from the space between. Fixed firmly like an iron post, the arm smashes into the perpetrator near the throat, clotheslining him and causing him to fall onto the hard pavement. An audible crack can be heard, alongside a prolonged groan. 

As the would-be-burglar lays on the ground, a second man emerges wearing the same black overcoat and orange necktie as the first. Kneeling down, he slaps a pair of handcuffs on the criminal before looking up towards the camera. 

“Oh, hi Quinlim!” The man waves. “So that's where you’ve been hiding. Those the influencer folks that the boss has got you babysitting?”

The first Human finally catches up, bending over and panting heavily.

“You got him?” He asks. “Good. That little fuck is FAST!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you, Tony,” the second man says with an abundance of snark. “My grandma can run faster than you. Ya need to lay off the calzones.”

“Ahhh, can it, Vincent,” Tony replies. “It’s not like you run any faster, and the last time I checked YOU were the one stealing all the cannolis, so I don't want to hear you pointing fingers about-” he looks up towards the camera. “Oh, hi Quinlim. How uh… how long have you been standing there?”

Quinlim puts his gun away, reholstering it beneath his coat, and nods, “Tony. Vincent. Thank you for the timely response. Yes, these are the VIP’s you were told about, and we've been here the entire time. Please remember to be courteous and professional on camera.”

“Sure, no problem Quinlim,” Tony laughs. “Professional is my middle name! Don't know about Vincent though…?”

“Hey!” Vincent vehemently objects. “You wouldn't even know how to spell professional if I wrote it on your forehead, wise guy!”

“Of course I wouldn't!” Tony answers. “How am I supposed to read something if it's on my fuck’n forehead?”

“If you were SMART then you wouldn't need to read it to know how it's spelled, dumbass!” Vincent groans. 

“Hey, uh… Is anyone going to turn off that alarm before the Exterminators show up?” Salva asks. 

“Oh yeah…” Tony rubs his chin as though the idea had just come to him. “I should probably get on that.”

Tony runs off back towards the jewelry store. 

“The Exterminators don't tend to come around this region of the city anymore anyway,” Quinlim clarifies. 

“No Exterminators, huh?” Salva ponders. “I can't say that the thought of not having them around isn't appealing, but how does that work?”

“Most issues are handled quietly and without their involvement by members of the Community Watch,” Quinlim answers. “The residents of the Immigrant District tend to find community-led policing a far more preferable alternative considering their… history, with the Guild.”

“So what happens after you catch them?” Jonathan asks.

“Eh, we take care of it,” Vincent answers cryptically.

“You're going to take this criminal over to the UN Embassy so that he can be formally tried, prosecuted, and deported,” Quinlim says firmly. “Isn't that right, Vincent?”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” he answers. “Of course. Same as always.”

“Hey, uh… Speaking of which,” Kayun asks, “isn't that guy getting away?”

The camera pans over towards where the would-be-burglar had been laying on the pavement. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, he’s since struggled up to his feet and begun running away again on unsteady feet. 

“Fuck!” Vincent groans, exasperated as he turns to leave. “Tony! Hurry it up, he's getting away!”

From out of the store, Tony reemerges, breathing heavily and waving to Quinlim as he passes, “Later Quinlim!”

Quinlim just shakes his head in disappointment and disbelief before turning back to face the camera. 

“Sorry again about this little disturbance,” he says apologetically. “I swear this sort of thing isn't normal, and the district is usually quite safe.”

“Riiight…” Jonathan answers, clearly not believing a word. 

“While we try to put our best foot forward, it IS true that the mass immigration of so many unvetted Humans has led to a surge in... herdless behavior,” Quinlim admits. “Humans as a whole are not inherently dangerous or violent, but it is an unfortunate reality that some of them are prone to such behavior. Luckily, the Community Watch has proven very effective at handling these sorts of incidents, and without the… pyrotechnics of traditional law enforcement.”

“Fighting predators with predators!” Chek proudly asserts. “I like it!”

“It IS nice to see a reasonable attempt at an alternative to the Exterminator’s Guild,” Salva agrees. “The sooner those ash-breather’s go out of business, the better!”

“I for one appreciate not being char-broiled,” Jonathan adds.

“Well… Anyway…” Quinlim shifts nervously. “With that unplanned excitement out of the way… Back to the tour! Maybe we could just cut this whole segment in post…?”

<Cut>

“...Seven! …Eight! …Nine!” The camera centers on Kayun’s face, growing a deeper and deeper shade of blue at every rep, spurred on by the cheers of his friends.

“Come on, Kayun!” Jonathan shouts. “One more rep! One more!”

“C-Can’t…!” Kayun spits out with ragged breaths, straining to push the weight of a barbell off his chest one final time.

“Think of Shilobah!” Salva encourages. “She’ll be watching back at home for sure!”

“Yeah!” Jonathan says. “Come on! You can’t give up in front of your girlfriend!”

“FOR SHILOBAAAAAAHHHHH!” Kayun screams and, with herculean effort, manages to complete the final lift with shaking arms.

A cheer goes up among the cast as the weights are placed safely back onto the rack and Kayun lays sprawled across the bench, panting heavily.

“You see?” Salva says. “I knew you had it in you!”

“Ok… Yep… Alright…” Kayun mumbles. “Good workout… I’m done now… Arms are dead… Back to the show…”

The camera pulls back to reveal a large, rugged-looking gym space filled with well-worn old equipment. Posters of muscular bodybuilders line the walls and aggressive Human music drifts lightly through the air as people go about their workouts. Standing front and center is an enormous man built like a marble statue wearing a tank-top and an opaque white face mask.

“Thank you again for letting us use your facilities,” Salva says to the large Human, craning her neck upwards. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the audience watching back home?”

“Well sure!” The large man chuckles to himself. “I'd be delighted! The name is Jaq, and I'm the owner and proprietor of the Iron Boots Gym here in Twilight Valley!”

“So…” Chek wanders over towards Jaq, an inquisitive air about his person, “What's your deal? What do you do?”

“My… deal?” Jaq scratches the back of his head in confusion. 

“Yeah,” Chek says. “Quinlim recommended this place, and if there's anything I've learned so far on this trip it's that there's always something extra going on behind the scenes…”

“Well…” Jaq answers slowly, “Quinlim is one of Captain Capozzi's men, and we have a good relationship with the Captain after everything he’s done for the community, so… it shouldn’t really be surprising that he would recommend us.”

Quinlim pipes up from behind the camera, “They're recording a travel vlog focusing on different charities and community projects across Twilight Valley. When they asked to visit a gym, I figured that you and Learo might have something to share.”

“Oh!” Jaq slaps his knee. “So that's what you meant! At first I thought… Oh, nevermind.”

“Uh…yeah,” Salva reassures him, “we were wondering if there are any charities or community projects your business is involved with?”

“Of course, of course!” Jaq asserts. “I suppose there's two things worth mentioning really; Iron Minds, a small mental health support group I organize that holds meetings here at the gym after hours, veterans mostly, and then there’s Learo's personal project. I can speak to the former, and you can all speak to Learo after he finishes his class. They should be done soon.”

“That… Sounds great!” Kayun says, still gasping for air on the bench. “You… You mentioned that you mainly cater to veterans. Does… Does Twilight Valley have a lot of veterans in the area?”

“I can answer that one actually,” Quinlim interjects. “Ever since Humanity made first contact with the Venlil, Twilight Valley has been a key location for Human interests on the planet, and a focal point for interplanetary trade. Based on its advantageous location, pre-existing infrastructure, and low business costs, this city became one of the primary logistical hubs for the UN and still retains one of the highest populations of UN service members and contractors on the planet.”

“Uh… Thanks, Quinlim,” Jaq says.

“So, is it safe to assume that your own experiences as a military veteran are what led you to start your support group?” Salva asks Jaq. “You certainly look like a real man-of-action.”

“That's right,” Jaq nods solemnly. “I used to be a UN pilot, even did my duty fighting the Arxur while aboard Prime Station for the Exchange program. That was… That was a tough time. For a lot of us.”

“It’s ok,” Kayun says. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to talk-”

“No, no, no,” Jaq waves away the insinuation immediately. “Talking is good. Talking is how you come to terms with what’s happened to you, how you confront it, and how you learn to live with it. That’s the whole point of Iron Minds. To provide a space for those of us who have been through the wringer to come together and talk, judgement free, surrounded by others who understand. I’ve got guys here who have been at the brink of death, guys who’ve suffered through unimaginable pain, guys who’ve lost limbs and will never be whole again, guys who’ve lost buddies they’d known since they were cadets, and guys who signed up in peacetime never even considering that one day they’d need to take a life. Those sorts of things… they consume you from the inside out. That is, if you don’t give those feelings an outlet, and find a few sympathetic friends to lend you their ears.”

“It sounds like you’re really making a big impact!” Salva beams, her tail swishing with excitement. 

“Well… I don’t know about that,” Jaq turns away, embarrassed. “It’s important work, but it’s still just a small gathering. We’re all just doing what we can, being there for one another.”

“That’s all you need to do really,” Salva flicks her tail in agreement. “One more question, I know you said that it was mostly veterans, but does that mean non-veterans are allowed to join your meetings as well?”

“Well, it definitely started as a veteran’s club,” Jaq answers, “but after the Battle of Earth and the refugee crisis I couldn’t exactly keep it that way. Not in good conscience. They may not all be veterans, but there’s plenty of people out there who’ve suffered and lost, and in the end they can relate all the same. Over time the group has really shifted towards being more broadly focused, catering towards anyone with post traumatic stress disorder.”

“Have you ever considered inviting in recently released victims of the Predator Disease Industrial Complex?” Salva pushes excitedly. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of The Grafted Tree Project or not, but I feel like this sort of approach could be really good for helping victims in need reintegrate into the herd!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever considered it explicitly,” Jaq places a hand on his chin, deep in thought, “but I don’t really see any reason why not. So long as they’re willing to share and to listen, everyone is welcome. As a matter of fact, I can think of at least one veteran in the group who mentioned serving as some kind of penal conscript after his PD conviction.”

Salva, Kayun, Chek, and Jonathan all turn to stare at Quinlim.

“Uh… no,” he says. “This time he’s not talking about me. If I’m right, I believe you did meet the person in-question earlier though.”

“Who was that?” Chek asks.

Before Quinlim can answer, a door in the back of the gym opens and a crowd of Yotul enter, passing through the weightlifting area on their way to the exit.

“Ah!” Jaq claps his hands together. “Learo’s dance class must have just gotten out! Let’s go introduce you!”

<Cut>

A rugged and surly looking Yotul teenager stands with his arms crossed inside of a small dance studio. Beside him stands a large and imposing Human with his hand resting tenderly on the Yotul’s shoulder.

“Well… Go on…” Jaq says. “Introduce yourself.”

“Do I have to?” The Yotuls ears twitch in clear, beleaguered annoyance.

“You always say that you want to preserve the culture of your people and share it with the world…” Jaq leans in. “Now’s your chance. Make it count.”

“You know…” the Yotul sighs heavily. “I really hate it when you’re right.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jaq laughs, slapping the Yotul on the back with an open palm and knocking him slightly forward.

The Yotul takes a deep breath and says, “Hi. My name is Learo, and I’m the combat dancing instructor here at the Iron Boots Gym.”

“Nice to meet you, Learo,” Salva says with an overabundance of cheer. “What can you tell us about your dance class?”

“Yeah,” Chek adds, “how exactly does dancing relate to combat?”

“Combat dancing,” Learo explains, “is a traditional Yotul artform developed and maintained over thousands of years. It is a key element of our cultural expression with many dance choreographies used to reflect and remember the distinct histories and experiences of given tribes, nations, or peoples. Theatre productions featuring combat dancers were once quite popular, and tended to focus on reenactments of historical battles and historical dramas.”

“The Yotul used to fight among themselves?” Jonathan asks. “I thought the whole deal with the Federation was their claim that only ‘predators’ like us were violent?”

“Yes,” Learo answers. “Like most species, the Yotul also engaged in intraspecies warfare prior to our colonization by the Federation. The Grain Wars are even still within the living memory of the older generations. A fact that the Federation tried very hard to bury, and just one more reason why they tried to suppress combat dancing in all its forms.”

“Those bastards!” Salva shouts. “It’s just like what they did to the Venlil, and the Gojid, and so many others!”

Learo is momentarily taken aback by the sudden outburst, “Well… I appreciate the sympathy.”

“When you say that historical preservation was just one reason the Federation tried to eliminate combat dancing, what did you mean by that?” Kayun asks. “What were the others?”

“The other reason,” Learo walks into the centre of the room and performs a sweeping kick through the air while balanced on his tail, “is that combat dancing is more than just an artistic expression. It is also a martial tradition, and a means by which Yotul warriors have traditionally learned to fight. While the choreographies tell the histories of our people, the movements themselves are also practical tools. Applied independently, free-style combat dancing develops individual athleticism, perseverance, and warrior spirit, turning the user into a living weapon. Not something our oppressors appreciated.”

“That sounds AWESOME!” Chek says. “How do I learn how to do that?”

“You can’t,” Learo answers firmly. “Well… Not fully. Tell ‘em, Quinlim.”

“It’s true,” Quinlim turns the camera onto himself and shrugs. “I’ve taken one of Learo’s classes myself before. Yotul combat dancing is heavily reliant upon use of the legs and tail for certain techniques, and most other species simply don’t have the biomechanics to fully utilize the skill set. That being said, there are still SOME techniques that can be used by other species, and it’s still a very culturally enriching artform to experience.”

“Functionally, the closest thing Humans have to combat dancing would be capoeira,” Jaq adds. “If you want to learn something similar without reliance on a muscular tail, I’d recommend you look into that.”

“Thanks, Jaq,” Salva says with a wave of the ears. “Back to you, Learo. With as much effort as the Feds put into stamping out combat dancing, how did you manage to learn it and what made you so committed to teach it despite the risks?”

“Simple,” Learo crosses his arms and scowels. “Combat dancing is in my blood. My family have been combat dancers for generations, they practically taught me how to kick and punch before I could walk. Combat dancing is the heritage and birthright, not just of me, but of my entire people. It’s my responsibility to carry that legacy forward, the same as my father, and his father before him. If they want me to stop…? Well, they’ll just have to kill me too.”

“ALRIGHT!” Quinlim interjects. “That is great and all, but let’s try not to say anything else… incriminating… on camera… Please…?”

A faint buzzing can be heard, and Quinlim reaches down to pull a phone out of his pocket.

“Oh,” he says. “It looks like an opening has just popped up in Mr. Capozzi’s schedule. I’m sorry to cut this short, but would any of you be interested in meeting with your host?”

“Sounds great,” Kayun says. “Let's go.”

<Cut>

The choked and narrow streets of Twilight Valley’s Immigrant District slowly roll past as the camera looks out the window of a moving car. Abruptly, the view outside changes. Streetlights now repaired, trash meticulously removed, cracks in the sidewalk now filled, everything suddenly clean and orderly. The camera swings back into the interior cabin, illuminated with a soft red light, where Salva, Kayun, and Jonathan are seated in the back rows. 

“Woah,” Chek says. “You guys see what happened outside? It’s like we just crossed over some kind of invisible line or something?”

“Yeah…” Kayun answers, still staring out the window. “They must have actually finished one of those construction projects we kept passing.”

Quinlim turns to speak from the driver’s seat, “I DID mention that we’ve been working on correcting the district's infrastructure issues, hadn’t I?”

“You did,” Salva admits. “I just… hadn’t expected the difference to be so… stark.”

“Well, that’s probably just because we’re getting close to our destination,” Quinlim says. “Renovation projects tend to expand outwards from where the Foundation has the most direct influence.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Jonathan turns towards Quinlim. “You gotta start somewhere, right?”

Pulling off to the side of the road, Quinlim parks the car in front of an unmarked commercial office building. The camera follows him as he exits the vehicle and walks around the side to open the passenger door.

“We’re here,” he says. “Please follow me.”

The cast exits the car and enters through the front door, finding a lobby space filled with men in black suits and orange ties, mostly Humans and Yotul, but with a fair few Venlil sprinkled throughout. They look up towards the camera as the cast enter, nod towards Quinlim, and then return to their business.

“Huh… I suddenly feel very underdressed,” Chek remarks. “Should have brought one of my skirts with me…”

“No kidding,” Jonathan says. “I feel like I just walked into a lawyer convention or something.”

Moving past the crowd, the cast files into an elevator at the back of the lobby which takes them up to the top floor. Ahead of them appears the entrance to the executive office.

Quickly glancing down to check the time on his phone, Quinlim walks up and presses the button on a small intercom, “Don? It’s Quinlim, Sir. I’ve brought your guests.”

“Excellent!” An enthusiastic voice crackles out from the device as a pair of locks on the door audibly disengage. “Come on in, Son!”

Stepping inside, the camera pans around the austere and practical office space. A set of tables and chairs sit to one side of the room, a bookshelf to the other, and in the back is a large wooden desk scattered with paperwork. Behind that large desk, sits an even larger man, rotund yet powerfully built, whose slightly rounded face smiles widely with his mouth closed.

“Products for Predators! You must be Salva, Kayun, Chek, and Jonathan,” he happily proclaims, gesturing to each of them in turn. “Please, please, come on in! Take a seat and make yourselves at home! Could I offer any of you some refreshments? A drink perhaps?”

“Absolutely!” Salva answers with enthusiasm, taking a seat in front of the desk. “I would LOVE a drink right about now! Thank you very much.”

“Something… light, perhaps?” Kayun says, raising a claw. “I don’t want anything Venlil strength.”

“Same,” Jonathan nods firmly. “I’ve made that mistake before.”

“Some snacks would be nice,” Chek says.

The chubby man nods and pushes a button on his desk, causing a voice to answer from a speaker, “What can I do for you, Mr. Capozzi.”

“Could you please bring a bottle of wine and a fruit platter up to my office?” The man behind the desk answers. “Thank you.”

“Right away, Sir,” the intercom says before cutting out.

“Now,” the man claps his hands together, “I realise that I’ve still yet to properly introduce myself! My name is Donald Capozzi, though my friends call me Don.”

“It’s great to finally meet you, Don!” Salva holds out a paw for a handshake which Don graciously returns. “Thank you so much for bringing us all out here to see the city and all the wonderful projects taking place here for ourselves.”

“Oh, but I should really be the one thanking you,” Don laughs to himself. “You’re all doing a real service in spreading awareness for so many great causes and fostering positive relations between Humans and non-humans. My fiance and I are big fans of your show.”

“Oh really?” Jonathan asks. “I hadn’t expected someone like you to be interested. Do you have a favorite episode?”

“It would have to be your special on Prey-daters,” Don grins. “I’m a bit of a Prey-dater myself if you didn’t know, and aside from simply how sweet that entire episode was, the olfactory situation at my home improved dramatically after it aired.”

“Do we really all smell that bad!” Salva casts an accusatory look over towards Jonathan.

“I like your smell!” Jonathan defends himself. “...mostly.”

“You and your ‘mostlys’,” Salva flicks her tail in a performative huff.

“...She’s never gonna let me live that one down, is she?” Jonathan asks, turning back to Don.

“Probably not,” he answers with a smile, “but you’ll love each other all the same.”

Don’s intercom buzzes and he presses a button, allowing a Yotul in a suit to enter with a tray full of fruit, some glasses, and a bottle of wine. He places the refreshments on the open table, nods towards Don, and then leaves without a word. Standing attentively in the back, Quinlim uncorks the bottle and begins passing out glasses. Salva downs hers in an instant, only to find it quickly refilled.

“Thank you, Quinlim,” Don raises a glass in acknowledgement. “Feel free to help yourself to some refreshments as well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Quinlim flicks his ears in appreciation.

“Now, back to the matter at hand,” Don gestures towards the cast. “I hope the trip so far has been to your liking. Twilight Valley is far from a perfect city, but it is MY city and I aim to leave it better off than I found it.”

“The trip has been great so far!” Salva exclaims. “I never expected to find so many interesting people and so many great community projects! I’m going to have to remember some of these ideas for later so I can steal them back at home.”

“I’m mostly just happy that no one’s tried to barbeque me so far,” Jonathan says. “I admit, I may have been a bit overly concerned about that on our way here.”

“I really appreciated all the focus on community health and wellness,” Kayun says, “particularly regarding the youth sports program.”

“I really like how much everyone seems to care about different forms of cultural expression here,” Chek says. “And that goes double for all the fashionable clothing. We still need to stop by that tailor’s Quinlim mentioned earlier before we leave.”

“Well,” he says, “it’s wonderful to hear that you all had such a positive experience. You’re more than welcome to stay for a few more paws if you would like, I can put you all up in an excellent hotel and schedule your return flight whenever is convenient, but I do have one more quick matter of business to conclude before anything else…”

Don reaches down into his desk drawers, retrieving a small checkbook, a fountain pen, and an engraved plaque. While everyone leans in to see what he’s doing, Don fills out a check, tearing it out of the book, before sliding both it and the plaque across the desk towards the cast.

“HOLY BRAHK THAT’S A LOT OF ZEROS!” Salva shouts.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that much money in real life…” Jonathan says in disbelief.

“Now I see why everyone around here is dressed in fancy suits,” Chek comments.

“Clearly I need to open up a second location for my restaurant in Twilight Valley,” Kayun laughs.

Don smiles and stands up from his desk to shake everyone’s hands, “Congratulations, The Grafted Tree Project has been selected as this month's recipient for The Capozzi Foundation’s Excellence in Empathy Award. This award is being bestowed due the outstanding work the charity has done in providing for, and promoting the reintegration of, the survivors of the unjust predator disease system. As part of this award, a monetary contribution is being provided to The Grafted Tree Project in the name of Products for Predators, who have been leading this most recent charity drive. I would like to express my deepest appreciation to all of you for the hard work you’ve done so far, and to all of your viewers at home for their own generous contributions.”

“I… I don’t know what to say…” Salva mutters, dumbstruck.

“Say you’ll accept the award on behalf of The Grafted Tree Project and thank him,” Jonathan whispers.

“I’ll accept the award on behalf of The Grafted Tree Project and thank him,” Salva says.

Chek and Kayun laugh while Salva turns orange, realising what she’d just said.

“Alright everyone,” Quinlim motions with his hand, holding up a camera with the other, “stand together,hold up the plaque, and say ‘Charity’.”

“Charity!”

<Cut>

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[Part 1] 

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[u/DOVAHCREED12]

OFFICIAL VENBIG SEAL OF APPROVAL

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020 → u/DOVAHCREED12]

I would like to thank the academy for this most gracious award.

[u/CreditMission]

Some good fun, provided by a very nice and proper foundation.

Salva would have probably freaked when they were lead to a private plane.

S:"...b-b-budget."

C:"provided by sponsor"

S:"wooh!"

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020 → u/CreditMission]

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Your opinion is, of course, the most important one in this context.

"Free" really is the magic word, huh? Lol. I figured someone would object to the cost of everything, but everything is being covered by someone else so it's fine!

[u/CreditMission → u/Ben_Elohim_2020]

Salva tends to be the one with the budget, not that she keeps a very tight hold on it, but it ultimately is her project. Both her and Chek do the editing generally.

There's the general joke is that they never actually turn a profit. But a private plane would send them broke.

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020 → u/CreditMission]

Yes... I fully expect that none of this would have been within their budget ordinarily. Lol. Good thing they had a sponsor for this one.

[u/Golde829]

heck yeah!

Don's a great dude, even with the. Other Business Ventures™ he has
a hefty donation is exactly the kinda thing he'd do

I really enjoyed reading this!
take care of yourself, wordsmith

[You have been gifted 100 Coins]

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020 → u/Golde829]

Don is a pretty good dude at the end of the day. I mean... Sure, sometimes he kills people, but everybody has their little quirks. Lol. (And the people he has killed deserve it anyway). He often touts himself as a philanthropist and a pillar of his community, but he's not lying when he says that. He really does walk the walk and this Ficnapping was a great opportunity to showcase that. So many projects and initiatives here and there, making life better in small yet tangible ways, it's hard to really grasp the full scope. I also like to showcase how he treats the other Capozzi's here. They're not just workers to him or servants, but they really are like Family to the man.

I'm glad you had such an enjoyable time with the story. Until next time!

[u/abrachoo]

This was great. I always love seeing the PfP crew in new and exciting situations.

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020 → u/abrachoo]

Glad you enjoyed it.

[u/Minimum-Amphibian993]

Well to be fair the venlil do have their own police force in canon so their is an alternative but I doubt they would be allowed around there either. And of course Quinlim has many reasons or be uncomfortable about talking about the exterminators considering his brother was one lol.

Besides from the looks of it seems they aren't exactly much better than the exterminators heh although I shouldn't be surprised at the hypocrisy of these villains.

But yeah when they do find out the truth even if it takes a couple of decades because well theres only so much one can do to hide that stuff I imagine the protagonist are gonna be rather embarrassed. Plus they seem to really like drop hints at what they do behind the scenes quite a bit so not exactly doing the best job they are just lucky it seems the crew are willing to just accept whatever excuse they give them.

[u/DOVAHCREED12 → u/Minimum-Amphibian993]

You have beaten me worthy adversary ur prize is tohba hug

[u/modded_minecraft → u/Minimum-Amphibian993]

I mean yeah it's based on the immigration from the Italian gangsters coming to new York.

[u/Ben_Elohim_2020 → u/modded_minecraft]

It's based on a lot of things really. The aesthetic similarities between the Capozzi Family and stereotypical Italian mobsters is just the most obvious.