#crocogator

“The chitin. Does it itch?”

“What?”

“The chitin…”

“I heard you. Your ability to come up with the most unexpected and irrational things to be curious about never ceases to impress.”

“Well, does it?”

“When it first bursts from my flesh it is very painful. Each transformation is agony. But it is much like an extreme version of picking off a scab. It is… satisfying, in a way. When I first transform there are bits of my own viscera splattered on my exoskeleton. They dry. And then yes, once they dry, they do itch.”

“I remember this crocodile I knew once. Or maybe it was a alligator. I don’t know the difference. Badass fella in a swamp near where I lived at the time. I kept chickens and fed him some every once in a while, but not often. Didn’t want him getting too comfy, but I liked having him around. He had a bad temper and served as some unofficial extra security. Also garbage disposal, long as you broke the garbage’s legs first.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway, I was sweeping the front of my place this one time and he waddled up in a ‘I’m a giant lizard, watcha gonna do, gimme some chicken, or I’ll take a chunk offa you’ sorta mood. And I was also in a mood… a mood to not be putting up with that crocogator’s shit that day when he’d gone and tracked mud all over my porch, so I swept him.”

“You what?”

“I took the broom and I swept him. Like he was the floor.

I pushed pretty hard cuz he was all caked in half-dried mud and I swept the mud right offa him cuz he’d tracked it all over half my floor and he was just gonna track it all over the rest of the floor too if I didn’t do something about it.

And here’s the thing: He loved it. He loved it more than chicken. Got to the point where any time he’d hear me sweeping my front porch I’d hear a splash farther away in the swamp and he’d come up and lie in the sun, demanding I sweep him. I think he just itched all the time and that was the only time he got scritches.

That was a thing for years, that crocogator and I. Dunno what ever happened to him. I had to relocate rather quickly one day, as one does when one is in the line of work I have tended to find myself in over the years. I came back decades later and he was gone.

But the point of this story is, I know you’ve been a bit shy about being all chitin-y near me but like.. what if one day I brought a stiff brush and a bit of soapy water and just… scrubbed yer dried viscera off yer chitin for ya? I bet it’d feel nice. Soothe the itch.”

“I… I do not know how to respond to that.”

“You could just say yes.”

“No.”

“Aww…”

“However, the idea that you have clearly given this considerable thought is… bizarrely touching. You really are full of surprises.”

“Offer’s always open if you ever change your mind.”

“Hmmm…”