User blog:PrinceLolipop/Prince of Loli's WWYD Responses - Holstaur

Original Scenario (made by Ancem):
''You are a vegtable farmer working in a non-order controlled/non-monster village. In recent months, you've developed a love of holstaur milk and made friends with the local vendor who sells it. You walk down to the market to pick up a case of holstaur milk when the vendor stops you. "You've really aquired a taste for holstaur milk, haven't you?" He said. "I've got a proposition for you.  Milk prices are getting higher because of shipping issues.  And that's where you come in." He then takes out a bottle labled "X". "This is extra-thick holstaur milk.  If you believe the rumors, one drink and you'll have a harem of holstaurs at your door in no time." He says. "You have that big farm, right?  So, if you drink this stuff, you'll get all the milk you want, and you could sell what you don't drink to me and I'll sell it to the whole town for a lot less.  Meaning more people will buy it." His logic made sense, but the idea of inviting monsters to your peaceful town makes you worry. What do you do?''

Response:
Oh, sure his logic makes sense. "Have you been listening to that hobo on the street again? I've told you to stop believing him."

"Normally I wouldn't, but he said that he was told this directly by a holstaur!"

"Did you actually talk to the holstaur yourself?"

"No, but -"

"How do you know he didn't sell you his sperm in a bottle again?"

"Look at it! It's clearly milk! And you have no proof that was sperm!"

Oh my god, this moron. . . "I'm still half-convinced he's a Gyoubu Danuki disguised as a hobo to get people like you to buy his/her wares. And you fall for his scams over and over again!"

"Are you listening to yourself!? First of all, if he's - as you say - a Gyoubu Danuki, then how could he have sold me what you keep saying is sperm!?"

Alright, deep breaths. . . don't get caught up at his pace. "That's why I'm only half-convinced. If he hadn't sold you a bottle of what looked remarkably like sperm, I'd be certain he's a Gyoubu Danuki."

"So if you're wrong about that, what makes you so sure that he's this absurd con-artist you keep labeling him as!?"

I have to hold back what I want to say. I swear, no matter how many times this hobo's scams don't work, he firmly believes it's just a mistake. Fine, let's approach this from a different angle. "It may interest you to know that I recently went to the library and found a book explaining the effects of holstaur milk. Extra-thick holstaur milk is only meant for the husband of the holstaur that gave the milk. Now, why would milk that a holstaur makes for her husband specifically invite competition for her husband?"

"You can't be serious. First of all, holstaur are very docile creatures. It's not 'competition' if they're not fighting over the husband! Secondly, it would be to ensure he has a steady supply of produce going that they can support themselves on!"

That. . . that's a point. But I'm still convinced that he just got scammed. "Look, what was his asking price for that bottle of 'extra-thick holstaur milk'?"

"He gave me it for FREE! So how's that work into your logic, Mister Paranoid?"

While the news that he got it for free is a huge surprise to me, the way he's poking fun at my attempts to keep him from being scammed grates a bit too deeply on my nerves for me to keep trying to help. "I'm not having any part in this."

"Good! I don't even know why I tried asking you in the first place! But when me and someone else are rich and living in mansions as hundreds of people buy holstaur milk from us, don't think you'd get a drop even if you begged!"

I glare at him before marching away from his stall. My plan is to head home, but as I pass by a nearby alleyway I'm surprised when I hear a voice address me. "Why do you even bother trying to help him?"

I turn to find - to my surprise - that it's the same hobo we were talking about. Right now he's actually tailoring, putting the finishing touches on a nice-looking shirt.

"How much did you hear?"

"Pretty much the whole thing. And look, I'm sorry. He-he's just so absurdly easy to scam, he believes just about anything you tell him."

"Point."

"Anyways, I'm really, really sorry. It was just . . . you know, a little joke at his expense. I didn't mean to set off a whole argument between the two of you. Please, accept this as my apology."

With that he hands me the shirt. It's a very nice looking one, with gilded sleeves and a beautiful, fiery pattern on it. "Wow . . . wait a second, how'd you get the materials?"

"The tailor's very stingy about her materials. If it doesn't meet her standards, she just throws it away."

". . . Look, I'm sorry about uh . . ."

"No, no. You were completely correct, I completely and utterly scammed him. It wasn't sperm by the way, I just watered down some cream."

I can't believe it, but I soon leave the alleyway while marveling at the craftmanship of my new shirt. Maybe he's not such a bad guy after all. The next morning I come to market in my new red shirt, prepared to try and make amends with the milk-trader - only to find him blazing a path to me. "Hey, what's -"

"Hey, how's it going, it half-worked, HELP!"

"Hey, calm down - wait, half-worked?"

"Well it attracted a large group of monster girls alright, and they're close to holstaurs, but they're uh . . ."

Here he points, and I immediately blink. The market's in shambles, and I can see several of the culprits are searching the streets for what I'm assuming is the gullible man now hiding behind me.

"Minotaurs?"

"Th-they said they smell something really nice so they came here to find the source!"

I sigh before telling the man to hide in the alleyway, next to some rotting garbage. That should help mask his scent. Once he's well hidden I decide to just leave the market, and I'm just about to when I hear an evil chuckle in my ear. "So do you know how much minotaurs love the color red?"

I turn to find the hobo standing there with an evil grin on his face. He reaches on top of his head, and to my surprise bursts into smoke. When the smoke clears there's a Gyoubu Danuki standing there, taking a deep breath as she brings two fingers to her mouth. So she is a Gyoubu Danuki! But why would she give me such a nice. . . red. . . oh no.

Every single minotaur in the market rapidly turns to face us when the Gyoubu Danuki releases an ear-splitting whistle right next to me, and I watch as their looks of confusion turn to looks of pure lust as they begin heading my way, rapidly picking up speed. All I can do is run as the Minotaurs give chase, with the Gyoubu laughing hysterically in the background.

Remember: Just because you're right doesn't mean you're not screwed.