"How tough can it be? Look at it. It has no claws, no fangs...it can't even grip with its hind appendages."
"It can kick, though."
"Right, sure, but no claws like I said, not even hooves. Just really malformed manipulators."
"Look, Angroood. I'm just telling you. Humans are great when you're in a tough spot. Creative thinkers, dextrous, surprisingly durable. They tend to survive because they're deeply nonspecialized in their conformation. But don't fight them."
"Not a threat. I'm halfway inclined to go piss that one off just to see what happens."
"Before you do, let me gather my stuff and get out of the splash zone. Can I have that coat when you die?"
"It won't kill me."
"No, probably not. I know that one and it's a good, law-abiding citizen. If you force it into a fight it will probably not kill you but by the time everything is over you will wish it had."
Angroood had been heaving his bulk out of his lounger but paused. His drinking mate's sincerity was clear in his coloration. "You sound awfully sure of yourself. That thing is only half my size. I could take it."
"You could take another drink and sit your intoxicated posterior back down." The coloration subsided a bit. "It's half your size, yes, but it's also double your mass."
Angroood goggled. "No way."
"Yes way. That thing is the end result of a species of nonspecialized omnivorous primate, evolutionarily selected for intelligence and climatic hardiness on a rocky Type 2 world. Temperatures that would bake you only encourage it to disrobe. That example, that one RIGHT THERE, is from a part of its homeworld where water freezes for half the entire year. And Angroood..."
"Yeah?"
"It fights for fun. It practices fighting. It picks up heavy weights until it cannot lift them anymore, so its muscles will be injured and heal back stronger. Then it picks up heavier weights. If you pick a fight with this human, it will probably not kill you. But that won't be because it cannot. That will be its choice, not yours."
Angroood huffed, a vaguely whistling sound emanating from his nasal horns. "Fights for fun?"
"Shut up and let me buy you another drink. No, no - don't get up."
The drinking mate wandered to the bar, passing through the audioveil on the way, nearly staggering at the crush of sound, the cacophony of languages and means by which they were spoken. At the bar, he approached the human. It craned its peculiar little head up at him, speaking its language from a small mouth full of varied but otherwise unimpressive teeth.
"Well?"
"Human Gina, I think if I string him along just a bit more he will be willing to take the challenge regardless. He has what you humans call "a macho streak" which will serve you well. How are things going on this end?"
"The betting spread is 7:5, I need to work the crowd a bit more if I really want to make a profit on this. I'd like to get it to 8:5."
"I'll see if I can make him angry."
"That'll be fine." The human swirled one of its digits in the ring of condensation on the bar. "I'd like to shop for a new outfit. I need the money. Get him cranked up, Booj."
Booj took his drinks and stumped away to beard Angroood some more, leaving Human Gina to continue working the crowd for wagers.
He might just get the coat anyway.
