Hi.
I'll be your nameless narrator this evening.
Reading about Jissouseki, whether it be about them growing, invading your houses, eating peacefully or getting killed violently, is all well and good. And I'm sure you, at some point, wondered what it could be like to actually live in a world where they exist. What it would mean besides the occasional encounter.
And, probably, what it meant for the future. How much what we usually think would probably happen would change. How many futures foretold by science-fiction would be compromised by the existence of a species more fit than us to survive and strive in any given environment.
Not even thinking too much ahead, no. A couple of years, maybe three, give or take the number of years required for a scientific breakthrough convenient for the plot to be believable.
At best, the Jissouseki will still be there, one hopeful mama waiting on our doorsteps for our nefarious minds to decide her fate. Let's face it, complete extermination wouldn't only be impossible, but undesirable. After all, who in their right mind would destroy humanity's unlimited food supply ?
At worst though, they will begin to go out of hand.
Not by much – if the sheer numbers could overwhelm us, they would have done so withing two years of them appearing. Let's say a number of subtle, imperceptible factors are slowly giving them an edge, and the few who notice would shrug it off, or be marginalized. After all, come on dude, it's fucking Jissouseki, how bad can it be ?
Well, let's say this future is this worst case scenario, and that, fortunately, some people aren't going to stand for that.
Spring 201x, Annecy, France.
The cultural center is under pressure. In less than one week begins the world's foremost Animated Film Festival. I used to go there as a volunteer because I had shit else to do. Now I'm here as an official from the City Hall. Not that most people would notice at first glance.
"Hellooo" I say to the receptionist, flowers in my voice. "Thierry Genestar. I'm the D.A.R.J, you asked me yesterday to come for a briefing."
"Ah, yeah, the boss told me you'd come. It's scheduled in the small amphitheater, take those stairs in the back."
"Oh, you dirty boy."
I leave before he has the time to think of a snappy comeback.
DARJ stands for [i]Directeur des Affaires Relatives aux Jissouseki[/i], or Head of Jissouseki Affairs. Which is an overly rad title for a newly recruited civil servant like me. But Jissou exterminators aren't the only jobs the infestation created. Far from it. In France, whenever there are people getting low-wage jobs, there are a bunch of guys keeping track of all the ways and reasons their situation should be improved. Then they report it to elected people who are just skimming through all the reports with the sole objective of finding the best clusterfuck to improve with as little effort as possible while harvesting as much votes as possible in the next election.
Democracy rocks.
Anyway, my job consists of several things : Doing what most employees in the public administration do -the mess above- but also managing and ordering around pretty much all the extermination corps in the city. Which sounds awesome for a newly-recruited guy, until you know that I graduated from the Regional Institute of Administration, which is a pretty big deal, and second, that exterminators are little more than weaponized garbage men who hunt talking and shit-flinging trash cans.
Of course, at first they made ambitious laws that involved several dudes in every city thinking only about the best Jissou-sweeping strategies all the time, and that kept many [i]Crétins en Boîte[/i] at bay. But then, after several years, the panic began to slow down, and fucking Americanomics came back into the fray, prompting the next government to discreetly cut the personnel by 75% at best, figuring one low-paid executive was as good as five better paid ones when it came to this kind of stuff.
Which would have been all well and good, to be honest, as it was a manageable task even in big cities. It would have, if they didn't freeze exterminator recruitments at the same time.
And now I have two hours to brief the greenest executives and volunteers involved in the festival to the task of keeping jissous at bay for an event that was going to receive hundreds of thousands of visitors and several world-famous VIPs. Yeah, standard procedure doesn't cut it in those circumstances. You want to dissuade the fuckers, not get the highest body count.
Two hours. That may seem like a fleeting moment. Yet, all I have to say to them is to use specific poisons, good pairs of running shoes, not wasting time fucking with them, and refraining the fuck out of giving them any food, even poisoned. Also, that pet Jissous are considered an acceptable casualty.
Okay, that much went smooth.
I heard from colleagues from other towns that some had to deal with moral-ridden goody-two-shoes, unable to understand just how much a threat they were. Of course, nobody knows in the general public. Or rather, nobody wants to know. Let's face it : Humanity is dramatically outgunned on this one. We can't even put a dent on their population for more than one day. And if it seems like they are too weak to do shit against us, well, you're free to dream. You don't have access to increasingly worrying government orders.
I open the front door of the nice house given to me as incentive when I was recruited. A remnant of the former legislation. It's a small house, about the size of your average flat, but it's near the lake, and you have no idea what that means in terms of real estate.
As usual, my cat is waiting, staring at me with her eyes half closed. I put down my stuff, and go straight to powering the computer up, a bunch of geeky goodness awaiting me for the night. Then, I go fetch myself some ice-cold water, and...
Crap, the computer is still off, I must have missed the button.
*Click*
Nothing.
*Click*
I catch my cat and take it in my arms, facing her.
"Casca, my dear, you wouldn't happen to have messed with the wiring, would you ?"
No answer as she merely looks around like a retard. Oh, well, surely it's the circuit breaker or someth...
"Techi !"
…
…
"Casca, you lazy cunt."
"Meow !"
"Teeeeeen !"
The water is neither too cold or too hot. Nevertheless, the quantity of it exceeds the average recommendations for jissou swimming.
"Don't drop me in the water, Mr.Man, techi ! I can not swim, techa ! You do not do that to cute Jissous like me, techa !"
"You know what else you don't do ? Fucking with a man's computer. You don't do it."
Splash !
"That's against the rules !"
The water around her almost immediately takes a pale greenish tint. I kneel against the bathtub, letting my head rest on my arms, sipping on a glass of Viogner. Always, always put the alcohol at the highest point available. My jissou-indifferent cat also comes to see the little doll screaming.
"You...glurb ! You are a hateful abuser, shit Mr.Man, techa !"
"Well no shit, I'm the official chief abuser in town. Now, if you don't want to drown, start talking."
"A...bout what, tepya !"
"How you entered, and why did you bite the fuck out of my motherboard."
"I am not telling you, techa !"
She was trying to escape the water, but the bathtub, while admittedly a little greasy, was every bit as slippery as it is customary among its peers.
"I can wait all evening now that my machine is down."
"No ! Mama will be in danger, techi !"
"Yes. Incidentally, you are in danger now."
"Tegya !" She yelped, as if she didn't realize it until now. "We entered by the vents, techa ! Mama is smart ! Then we ate good food !"
"No, I just forgot to put a flame pit in there. And I don't give a shit about the food. Carry on, why the computer ?"
"Mama thought all those boxes were treasure, so we tried but it tasted bad, techa ! Argbl ! Please Mr.Man, I am going to die, pull me out so you can feed me and love me, techu !"
"Sure."
I pick her up, much to her relief. She's dripping with water, shit, and a combination of the two.
"Thank you Mr.Man, techu~n...I knew you were good Mr.Man, techu~n..."
Whatever. I pull out my hair-dryer, plug it, and proceed to dry the jissou while holding her by the hood. She immediately begins to flutter in the air.
"Te ?!"
"So, where is the rest of you family ? They forgot you there ?"
"Wind is too strong, techa !"
I crank up the power.
"Tegya ! They are in the woods not far ! Mama said I must open the door when you take me as pet !"
"Your mama's all kinds of retarded."
I turn the air dryer off. I can't count on Madame Casca to take care of the shitdoll. Fortunately, a Head of Jissou Affairs always haves another trick up his sleeve. I unceremoniously carry the mole to my small basement, and open the terrarium stored there.
"Hello ladies, room service for the room "Holy fuck I'm starving desu""
Feral roars at my feet. Pacman and Chomp weren't exactly raised for their conversational skills.
"TEE ?!"
I let her fall. I'm not even back to the living room that she's already into two separate stomachs.
Outside the glass doors to my small garden, stands the rest of the family. Their A-shaped mouths are open as wide as possible, and their cheeks glow with a disgusting pink. They stare at me, immobile, paws on their chins.
I stare back at them. For twelve seconds, I spin my mental wheel of fortune.
"Okay, dick-jutsu it is."
As DARJ, I have free access to a shitload of things from the police station. Believe it or not, pet-jissou product smuggling is on the rise these years. Since the explosion in high-end jissou production and the subsequent boom in the market, contraband had gotten very lucrative for how easy it was. So I have taken a few smuggled jissou dresses and gifts for when the wheel-o'abuse hits the pink.
When the setup is complete, I open the door.
------
A jissou mama in tattered rags blushes, both paws on her cheek, tongue hanging out. Before her, her three kojissous are cooing. How lucky they were to find this house ! The youngest clumsily removes her clothes. She can't wait to put this new, shiny dress on. Another has seen the bunch of konpeitos and finds it takes priority over the dress. Such isn't the case with the oldest sister, already in her fancy new dress, a cute flower clipped on her right ear, joyously rising her stumps into the air while the Mr.Man pets her head.
"This is where it all began."
"You found a nice pond of airy massacre ? Attagirl."
"Ignoring the brainless blurting of what pretentiously dubbed himself her colleague, our heroine set up to save the day."
"Host : Thierry Genestar. Occupation : Local head of Jissouseki management. Genuine attachment : Highly Unlikely."
"Of course, it didn't matter ! Behind what seemed to be a routine field test was in fact the first strike...of many."
Behind, the young man told the jissous he was going to fix them a royal meal.
"Leeet me think here C-o, but I ain't so sure that's what he meant."
"The time for talking...was over."
The Mr.Man gone, the mama looked around to appraise her home. Little, but not bad ! Of course, they already had searched the place thoroughly, and apart from a mean cat that climbed to the mezzanine before they could reach it, everything was fine. The Mr.Man would discard the cat anyway, after seeing how cute they are.
"Jissou-chan !" Said the mama to the one that was just finished putting her dress on, drooling in pure joy. "Go check if he has any other pet, desu !"
"Yes, te !"
She got up, and joyously wobbled towards the place they saw Mr.Man enter from.
Suddenly, she froze silently into place. The mama, who was beginning to put her new dress on herself, saw that.
"Are you alright, Jissou-chan, de ?"
The kojissou assumed a plain standing position. The rest of the family couldn't see her face. She turned her head around, then waved her arms left to right.
"Jissou...chan ?"
As the mother began to feel some concern, her baby finally talked.
"The test was an astounding success. The control...was flawless."
It was Jissou-chan's usual voice. Yet, there was something terribly wrong with it. She was so cute when she said her little "techi"s, why omitting them ?
"D...Do what I said, Jissou-chan, deee...."
"Okay mama, techi !" Answered she in her usual tone of voice.
Nevertheless, the family, despite not being familiar with horror movies, knew this was something to shit their pants over.
Hearing the silence, the Mr.Man came over, a spatula still in his hand.
"Something wrong ?"
"Ah ! No, no Mr.Man, it is nothing, desu ! Thank you for the dresses and candy, desu !"
"You're welcome, I guess..." Said he before returning to the kitchen.
"So, did you show this son of a mother what's what in the West ?"
"Not only did she send the subject to a gruesome death, but she quickly took care of the other two in the basement."
"Next test : Secondary mode."
The mama finished adjusting the ribbon to her ear. She was so cute now ! No mean Mr.Man would ever dare pick on her anymore ! While her hungry kojissou rolled on her back, sighing in contentment and rubbing her full belly, the other tried a small xylophone.
*Ding * *Ding * "Techi, what fun ! Techi-techi-techi te !" *Ding * *Ding *
"Yes, it seems fun. Mama wants to try it ! Step aside, desu !"
The child tried to protest, but obeyed Mama, whimpering. The mother took the sticks in her paws, closed her eyes as a true musician before composing a master piece, and...Ouch !
The child was biting her leg. Really hard, too !
"Do not be selfish, shit jissou, it is mama's turn, desu !"
She whacked the unruly child on the head until she let go. She was bleeding, and had her cranium deformed. Serves you right !
Yet, she got up like it was nothing.
"S...Stay down, decha ! Don't you dare attack your Mama, desu !"
The wounded child began to walk slowly toward her.
She was chuckling.
------
Thierry Genestar
Already on with the infanticide ? Man, I hope there are enough survivors for my pommes dauphines spiked with slow-acting poison. I mean, most of the poisons, even those loosely controlled, are very rarely harmful to humans, but still, eating poison is just not what I'd like to do with my life.
Still, I don't bother watching over them. Even if a child wandered into the basement, there's a one-way trapdoor, so she won't spill the beans, and probably die of a heart attack after seeing Pacman and Chomp anyway.
I give Casca her pellets, and I fix myself some tuna sandwich. I put my homemade tuna-mayonnaise-vinegar mix in sealed containers with a mechanical opening too complex for a jissou. Always have a backup plan.
Finally, the dauphines are nicely browned. I put them in the freezer for a bit so that they're mild enough for Jissouseki.
"Alright you lucky pets, here is your...di...... nner..."
In front of me, I see two kojissous crushed to death. The mama has ripped a part of her dress apart, and even if I can't see her belly, the pool of blood beneath her indicates she probably has her belly just as open. She looks at me...
"Help...me...Mr.Man....I...cannot...control myself, de...gyaaa..."
She's livid. Obviously weakened to the point of collapsing. Yet, she does something with the energy of a healthy jissou. Her paw is drenched in her own blood. Every so often, she dips it into her gaping wound with a squishy sound. And then touches the glass. She's writing something.
"I am in horrible...pain...desu..."
Yeah, I can see that. Her voice is horribly raspy.
"Kill...me...decha..."
What happened next is something you'd half want to see, and half wish to never see in your entire goddamn life.
The Mama stands up, her intestines rolling out of her belly. She lifts her paws, and grabs her head.
"DEGYA ! NO ! N...AAAARRGUUUUU"
Slowly, but surely, she twists her neck. As her face begins to face me, I can see absolute terror in her face. This jissou isn't concerned over getting candy or a house. She does not wish a mean Mr.Man to stop abusing her babies. She isn't even afraid of death.
She is afraid of living for another second.
Her voice is a mere death rattle. Know Ju-On/The Grudge ? That. Exactly that.