Somewhere in the forests of Mandanda, a beautiful little clutch of trees in the depths of a mountain isle, there lied a group of scaly  velociraptors with rather unusual traits compared to most.  With dragon-like horns and bodies like rippling water, they were a strange but beautiful race that had been occasionally documented by  the outside world, but almost entirely forgotten to live in solitude.
With impressive wooden huts built into the tall trees, they lived an exciting life of swinging between vines, feasting on large bugs and mammals and wearing the simplest of tunics made from sturdy leaves.  A cluster of children were bedazzled by a new game presented by a grey adult, showing a wooden raptor dangling from a  tree over a flat surface, with a rune inscribed in the bark.
	"Koma, dadadekka?"
	"Ahhhh...kiir!"
	"Jerya, akvu de nah."
	"Motaaaa, auuuuur, kiiiir."
The teacher pressed a button three times as the children counted.  The tinysaur dangled closer to the bottom, as the rune on the tree changed to more complex symbols.
	"Saaaa, Potera." the teacher asked again.  "Dadadekka?"
	"Mmmmm, orka!"
Four times it would click closer to the bottom as the children counted again.  Once the wood-dino touched the base as a panel flipped open, and a shark popped out to snag its prey.
	"A-AAAAAH!" the children screamed.  "CHAKCHAK!"
	"Chakchak toha!" the grown-up chuckled.  "Enatoto?"
	"JERYA!"
He rewound the toy with a little pulley in its back, and repeated the counting lesson.  The children were encouraged to pick bigger numbers and repeat, before the poor little dino was snapped up again much to their glee.  Other raptors cooked in pots, crafted bows and arrows, or pretended to be wild beasts in furry hides to train children how to hunt.
But they all shot up at an approaching call, a familiar warble as one of their own entered the village.  A dark blue raptor whose body resembled a blue lagoon's surface, with dark bronze horns and piercing yellow eyes completing her fearsome look, as she wore a green tunic with a harpoon slung on her back.
	"TIKINARH!"
	"DASSAAAAA!" she grabbed the children rushing to meet her.  "Atosenaw?!"
	"GEERMU MAKTUUF!" squeaked one brown hatchling.  "Bankreh odadekka, kree kree!"
She was dragged over to watch the counting game, as Geermu the teacher demonstrated it.  Once they were finished and the children were called home, the older grey raptor hugged her as they walked through the village.
	"Tanasennu?" he asked.  "Echa okosemu Skevail?"
	"Syeh," Tikinarh shook her head, "ton sunanta, Ailuun tasenaka, teesu katava Filshun!"
	"Aaah, jerya." Geermu rubbed his jaw.  "Onodanda, simakka?"
	"Haaah, konda nainda," the blue raptor cluitched her chest, "echa midimidi, tomobuka Tiergaduu?"
	"Tomo...buka?"  He pointed down.
	"Asenonda," she pointed to the biggest hut, "Bertan atonaw, bressenin hee akimadan."
	"Dibbudesh hana teesu, ah?"
They laughed as he thumbed back to the children, who were chasing one of their own dressed like a boar.  Tikirnah walked alone to the largest hut in the trees where her chief resided, a portly green raptor with muscular belly and tired eyes who was dressed in a beautiful robe of many bird feathers collected from various birds.
His wife sat beside him in an equally-gorgeous gown that was inlaid with dozens of tiny gems.  She herself was a smooth sandy bronze, as both wore headdresses of fanning plumes whilst Greemu and Tikinarh sat before them.
	"Ailuun?" the chief muttered.  "Teesu huk?"
	"Jerya," the blue raptor finished explaining, "palaseya Ailuun neha Diane, tomobuka Tiergaduu parlana okosemu."
	"Twarm?" the wife shook her head.  "Breena tenenas?  Ohhh Berlan, ikkan muya, tawarso, hiya hiya!"
	"Ohhhhka," the elder raised his hands, "tumnatassee hierka, akunaTUN setateeya, almnu Tandra."
	"Awww Berlan, koneeee?" she batted her eyes at him.  "Tikinarh yeye Ailuun, echa midimidi dasikah!"
	"Haaaah...Jerya.  Parlana Diane, chermi buda, kom echa Ailuun panam."
	"Shandroh!" Tikinarh bowed once more.  "Akinermato, Berlan."
The discussion soon ended as the azure raptor made her plans.  The night would come and a feast was made for her return, as customary for all who managed to leave the isle and come back.  A roasted boar was put on a spit, Tikirnah regaled them with stories of the outside world and curious machines.  Whenever the chief danced, the tribe was called upon by his wife to applaud for him with a multitude of claps.
	"Tchah, Berlan konotta," said Geermu the grey teacher, "okomesu ohka nadi, sinnen dadah."
	"Ghuu freha dibbu," the blue raptor sat beside him, "nah sikki parlana Ailuun enatoto, dokkuma sunanta!"
	"Mmmm...jerya," the male drank from his cup, "Ailuun hosso, twuha Filshun tasenaka?"
	"Ailuun tomobuka, edramu seh "Great Correction", bidaham, bidaham, nassenuka!"
	"Keh, twuha?" Geermu gestured with growing frown.  "Twuha okosemu tasenaka?  Odoweesa."
	"Nahbeka," she shrugged, "Nah echa suunan."
	"Tehhesu, Tikirnah," he patted her leg, "nahbeka Ailuun, refu seh Filshun."

A few days later, she would depart once again across the sea.  As one of the few of her tribe to make the journey off the isle, she had spoken to others beyond their realm as a trader at first, but now had an exciting new prospect on the horizon.
On the other side of the ocean was a white-stone town known as Skevail, where long-toothed houses stretched across the shore with piers jutting out on the water.  Cobbled streets snaked through markets with adorable canopy roofs, but the citizens were much different to those last year.  All of these ones had feathers, and the posters changed to reflect the new inhabitants, with any reference to featherless ones now being known as "Corrected".
	"SHADE!  OVER HERE!"
Stepping off her wooden canoe, Tikinarh approached a small entourage of Ailuun.  Two hulking dinos in uniforms kept watch on their charge, a pair of black-feathered zhuchengtyrannuses with thick-fluffed barrel chests and white T-rex heads.  Between them was a smaller, brown-suited dineobellator, a lean-looking raptor with spectacles on her black beak.
	"Lovely to see you again," she nodded, "and hopefully for the last time."
	"Hello, Diane," the native bowed, "I spoke to my chief, he says he would like to meet you first."
	"Ohoh, of course he would."  The secretary handed her a clipboard.  "Now I did bring the contract, I assume none of you can read Ailuunian-"
	"I thought it was Filshunian?"
	"You're mistaken, anyways this contract states all that we talked about before."
	"The control, yes," Shade looked over the words, "I can read this, I explained it to them."
	"OH, what a clever little subsaurian, see!" Diane turned to her guards.  "I told you this one was special."
	"Specially inferior," one deinonychus chuckled, "how inbred are you?"
	"Inbred?" the tribal cocked her head.  "I...sorry, I do not understand."
	"He means how small are your tribe," Diane motioned them to walk along the pier, "so, as the only trader of your village, you're technically an ambassador."
	"Yes," the velociraptor bowed, "I choose what food and folks to bring."
	"Well, in Ailuun we call that giving you the power of attorney.  You wouldn't need your chief's approval to sign this for self-correction, and I have explained this to you, yes?"
	"You did, Diane.  It is very exciting, to take us all to a new place and see the truth of your world."
	"I promise you this."  The dineobellator patted her with a gloved hand.  "None of your kind will ever return, and you'll all be pleasing the masses!  There are millions out there just waiting to see you, for your first and last debut on our screens!"
	"The screens are very fun!" Shade grinned with a little bounce.  "You tell me lots of things of self-correction, and the Filshun look so happy to be on them!"
	"That's why everyone left this town!  They wanted so much to please us, giving up their lives for the superior Ailuun, you understand that don't you?"
	"I do...we have stories of the animals in our home, respecting our need to give their bodies to feed and clothe us."
	"Well that's exactly the same thing!" Diane raved her hands.  "You're our animals, and you respect our need to feed us."
	"Haha, you eat us?!"
	"Oh god no, perhaps you can clothe us though with your skins, it'd look quite lovely on a handbag."
	"Really?" Shade blushed, looking over her body.  "Oh, thank you Diane, you are sweet to say.  But, may I ask, if we leave our home, what happens to our art and stories?"
	"Oh we'll take care of those, they will be given the respect they deserve, and all you have to do is sign this, to put your tribe where they belong."
	"Hmmmm hmhmm akitonto," she muttered briefly in her tongue, "I think, you should meet my chief.  Then we sign it."
	"Alright then," Diane took the clipboard back, "we have our own boats so you can leave yours."
	"Thank you!  I will join you tomorrow."
Tikinarh, or "Shade" when translated to Ailuunian, had always been fascinated by the outside world and their many devices.  A special house had been put aside for her, a former hovel where she could browse TV channels and witness the Great Self-Correction.  Dozens of TV shows were dedicated to the Filshun, as their wholesome extermination was discussed and endorsed.
At first Shade found it odd that the Filshun had all but disappeared over the course of a few years, but in her woeful innocence of the grander world, she came to believe there must have been a good reason.  Diane's logic with animals made sense to her, and whilst the extravagant displays of brutality on LCD screens seemed a lot, she heard the wondrous joy flowing from the audience.  The death of these non-feathered in droves got her strangely excited, and more often than once she began to finger herself.
Some of her tribe became aroused during hunts, not for any perverse reason but rather as a reaction of the body.  The soul, as the Tiergaduu knew, was the truth of one's body, and arousal was seen as a form of gratitude.  She would trib her tribal pussy at the sight of Filshun being hung, or driven through with spikes and even shot by rifles from contestants, all to the clamouring praise of the Ailuunian watchers.
When tomorrow came, she was more confirmed of what was right, joining Diane and her guards on the beautiful metal ship, a white spearhead that plunged through the waves to her island home.  Shade led them through the caverns of the mountains, a long sandy tunnel connecting the beach with the inner forest world.
The guards brought no weapons, not out of respect but from a lack of it, as children scrabbled up in excitement at the grand feathered beings with tough kevlar armours.  The burly males smiled and pointed to various natives, making lewd gestures and small bets whilst Diane approached the chieftain's house.  Geermu the teacher also attended, along with Tarma the chief's wife as they all sat together, whilst Shade translated for them.
	"It's an absolute delight to meet you," the newcomer bowed, "I must say I've been most eager to see your faces before correction."
	"[[I am Grandleaf,]]" said the chief Berlan through Shade, "[[welcome to our home.  This is my wife, Joy, and this is Chalk, the teacher of our children.]]"
	"[[We are honoured by your presence,]]" said Geermu, "[[Shade has told us about you several times of your interest with our culture.]]"
	"Absolutely," Diane brought out the contract, "I suppose she can translate this for you, just a formality, we search the world seeking out inferiors who wish to be corrected."
	"[[And what does that mean, exactly?]]" asked Joy a.k.a Tandra.  "[[Is it a teaching thing?]]"
	"Somewhat.  We the Ailuunians have long discovered, that as the superior species of this world, it is our very right, nay, moral duty to preserve the world's teachings, through the extermination of non-Ailuunians."
	"[[Ahh, a great hunt!]]" the chief wringed his hands.  "[[And you wish us to join you as warriors?]]"
	"No...you are the prey."
The dineobellator grinned as the natives reared back, except for Shade who beamed with excitement.
	"[[I watched their displays,]]" began the blue raptor, "[[they take those born without feathers, and slaughter them in beautiful caverns of light!  Everyone is so happy to watch them die, even the ones who are dying!]]"
	"[[You wish to...slaughter us?]]" the chieftain's wife clutched her robe.  "[[Did I hear that right?]]"
	"Absolutely," the secretary nodded, "Shade told me how you view animals here as nobly sacrificing themselves to sustain you.  Well, that's what you are to us, except we're more polite about it.  Your tribe must cease to be, for the sake of our continuing existence."
	"[[And why is that?]]" asked Chalk the grey raptor.  "[[What harm do we bring to your world, when we are so far away from it?"]]
	"Because you exist, dear!  Simply put, a tribal colony festering on its own would make our world further impure, and your continuing existence, benign as it is, would bring great ruin to everything!  It's unfortunate but true, I have evidence to demonstrate if you'll allow me to show you."
	"[[What evidence?]]" scoffed the chief, crossing his arms.  "[[To claim our tribe threatens yours from across the sea is a very bold claim.]]"
	"Well just look at this."
She brought out a laptop and placed it before them, the natives shocked by a flat stone that could split open in half, and reveal another world of moving pictures.
	"[[What IS that?]]" gasped Tandra, fiddling with her gems.
	"[[A TV,]]" Shade bounced on her rump, "[[it's how they spread their words and joy around the world!]]"
	"[[You mentioned these before,]]" Berlan shook his head, "[[but I had no idea they were so...small, and yet the picture is like seeing a whole other world.]]"
Geermu was silent as the video played, a carefully-constructed reel of self-correcting Filshun who demonstrated their need to be extinct.  Shade translated their words of regret, and how they knew their place, with one recording fixed on a green-scaled mother who died with her brother.  Their children in turn followed suit, most of whom gladly gave their lives in repeating a mantra in praise to Ailuun.
Berlan and Tandra were mesmerised by the proceedings, the lack of fight and will in these subsaurian beasts whose deaths pleased the masses.  They had never heard so many crow for joy, such raucous applause that stirred something in the chief as he started to do a little shimmy with his arms.
	"[[They seem very happy!]]" he chuckled.  "[[Just like when I dance for the tribe, everyone is happy!]]"
	"[[It looks very exciting,]]" his wife tittered, "[[how can so many dying bring so much pleasure though, I'm still confused.]]"
	"Simply put," Diane explained, "the Filshun are inferior, and their deaths make the world purer.  That's as simple as I can make."
	"[[And this Great Correcting,]]" asked Geermu, rubbing his head, "[[it only benefits your kind, not ours?]]"
	"Well obviously it benefits you, you won't have to live anymore and deal with the misery of living!"
	"[[Well...perhaps I enjoy that misery as sacred.]]"
His face became cold as he leaned back and crossed his arms, turning sour towards Shade who looked astonished at his rudeness.  But the chieftain was more eager, clapping his hands in tune to the audience who celebrated more deaths.  His wife slipped over to Shade and sat down to whisper close to her ear:
	"[[Are you sure this is alright?]]" asked Tandra.  "[[It all seems very gruesome, I never thought we were animals, personally.]]"
	"[[It's what the Ailuun said,]]" the blue raptor grinned, "[[you trust me, yes?  I know their world best, if  they say this is right for us, then it is.]]"
	"[[But wouldn't this...mean all of us would die?  I know one day we'll meet Hokotah, like our fathers and mothers before us, but I did not think it would be so soon.]]"
	"[[If the Ailuun hold the world, are they not also right to choose our death?  Just as we choose death for our food.]]"
	"[[Hmmm...I suppose.]]"  She rubbed her horns.  "[[If you say this is best, then I'll trust you.  My husband already has.]]"
They laughed at how strangely giddy the chief became, befuddled yet excited for a future prospect in entertainment.  As according to the village rules the chief made a proclamation, that all of Tiergaduu would leave their home for the first time, accompanying the Ailuun to show themselves to the world.  A few of the elders such as Geermu protested, arguing not to uproot themselves on the whim of strangers.  But Shade used her honeyed words to convince them otherwise, as well as her experience with things abroad.

Two days passed until the decision was made, and the chief won out in a poll.  All of the tribe were soon brought onto the ship, with Shade signing on their behalf, and Diane counting all 253 of the small indigenous group before setting up cameras above the village.  From that moment on, they no longer had any freedom, stuffed into cages from ship to truck, through the long dark nights towards the big capital.
The children babbled in excitement, the more docile parents made cheerful songs about being made noble sacrifices, whilst Geermu sat in Tikirnah's cage and scowled with growing fear.  The natives had never seen such towering buildings, where cloud-piercing monoliths loomed over their heads, and black frozen rivers stretched out between.
From the window slats of their transport, they watched feathered beauties in unique clothes at the restaurant, or chatting on the park green whilst throwing frisbees and playing ball games.  Sometimes they saw an enormous TV above them, blasting the news across the roofs from gigantic feathered faces.
The trucks finally stopped at the back of a building, as the cages were soon rolled out through the white clean halls with Shade out front.  Diane walked in front of them, conferring with her people as a palpable excitement grew from almost everyone.
	"WELCOME, to the ETR station!" said the dineobellator.  "Shade, you have no idea how excited I am to correct your degeneracy."
	"Thank you," the blue raptor giggled as her cage was put in a room, "your TVs made it look so exciting, to think we serve superior hunters!"
	"Ahahaha, ohhh, a mongrel after my own heart.  Now, since you signed the contract and everything's squared, I just need to go over some rules before you go on.  You cannot swear, and you cannot show your genitalia or cleavage.  You can however say anything you want in your native language because we're not going to bother translating it."
	"Haha, okay, do you need me to translate for others?"
	"Just until the show starts," Diane patted the bars, "you won't need to worry since after today, none of your language will be kept alive except in reruns."
	"What is, rerun?"
	"TIKIRNAH!" Geermu grabbed his friend and babbled in their tongue.  "[[Why have you done this?!  What in the name of Hokotah are you DOING?!]]"
	"[[They are making the world pure!]]" she argued back.  "[[Diane said so, we are the beasts they hunt, it is the order of things!]]"
	"[[WE are Tiergaduu!  I know the legends we speak, I know that these outsiders have no respect for our ways, and you deliver us to them like piglets to a snake!]]"
	"[[The tribe said we do this, the Chief and his wife agreed too!]]"
	"[[HE IS AN IMBECILE!]]"
	"HEY, SHUT IT!" a feathered deinonychus kicked their cage.  "Keep your fucking voice down or I'll skullfuck it outta you."
	"Now now," Diane patted her guard, "remember what we said, we are better than them.  Let them rant away, their genocide has already come."
	"[[You cannot truly believe we deserve this,]]" Geermu hissed at Shade, "[[I wanted you to roam the world to explore and bring back knowledge, not sentence us to death!]]"
	"[[You cannot have it both ways,]]" she shook her head, "[[if that same knowledge is the truth we are inferior and must be cleansed, how else do we face it?!]]"
	"[[By proving ourselves better!  Do you not care about the children who will be slaughtered, the mothers expecting families and our brave warriors left to rot without a grave?!]]"
	"[[I do, Geermu.  That is why I brought them here, so the world can see all of us...as we deserve to be.]]"
Her smile was radiant in a way he had never seen.  It frightened him as he pulled back, the older grey raptor clutching himself with a terrible shake.  All 253 of Tiergaduu folk were soon processed and spread out across the schedule, with Shade on point to help explain what they were about to do.
Most of them were cheerfully innocent, letting their bodies be dirtied by the make-up artists who then gave them various offensive accessories.  Necklaces made from Filshun fingers would drape their necks, whilst bones were strapped on their snouts.  The tribe found them amusing, giggling at the accoutrements that were strapped to their horns and necks.
	"Diane you've fucking DONE it AGAIN!" squealed a pamparaptor with blue feathers.  "How do you even find these maggots?!"
	"That's why I'm the chief secretary, Keith," she winked at the artiste, "make sure you doll up the chief extra, he's going to be a big target."
	"Oh you fucking bet," said a second pamparaptor in fuchsia, "look at that goddamn potbelly, how many of your own kids do you fuck?!"
	"[[P-pardon?!]]" Berlan sputtered as mud was slathered on his chest.  "[[I never consorted with my children, is that a thing you do?]]"
	"Ahaha, noooo that's what YOU fucking tree-rats do!"
	"Do you fuck pigs before you eat them?" asked Keith, attaching a bone collar.  "You look like a pigfucker, you know our audience loves seeing vermin like you get immensely filthy."
	"[[How...how filthy?]]" the chieftain blushed, squirming in his seat.
	"Well, obviously nothing we can do live buuuut Diane, if we could get like a pig's head for him to make out with."
	"An EXCELLENT idea!" the dineobellator scribbled it down.  "Now we have a lot of planning to do, all the children should be on the hill game, whilst the grown-ups we allocate to different sections.  Shade here, however, we leave her last.  She has to give a special message to our audience about her worthless race."
	"I am very honoured," the blue raptor bowed, "I am a bit scared, will I be alright?"
	"Ohoh, sweetie," she patted her, "your death will be the best thing we ever had.  NOW, uhhh, Joy, we need you to look more slovenly, can we take the gems off you?"
	"[[But, but these were from my grandmother,]]" Tandra clutched her sparkling gown, "[[these have been passed down for generations!]]"
	"And now you're the last!" Keith the artist ripped it off her.  "Whaddaya think Kev, contestant prize or museum disposal?"
	"Ohhh definitely disposal," Kevin plucked at the gems, "not before we put their-OOOOH, shit, babe, babe.  Ashtray."
	"Mmmmmmhhhh...fuck that's why I love you, okay this is gonna carry all their remains!"
	"For a very lucky contestant," Diane winked, "our after-hours show might even do something more."
A greedy chuckle resonated through the Ailuun, as Tiergaduu natives were lined up and marked with derogatory symbols.  A number was painted on each of their bodies, before the show would truly begin.

	"LIVE FROM THE CITY OF AILUUNOPOLIS, IT'S EVERYBODY'S FAVOURITE SHOW THAT EVEN THE HIGH COUNCIL ENDORSES IT!  GET READY, FOR POP-YOU-LEEEEEEESS!"
A rousing cheer thundered through the studio, as hundreds of feathered saurians clapped and whooped with gusto.  A grand stage with lights and platforms opened before the cameras, as a jade troodon danced on in a sparkling blue suit.
	"WELCOME, welcome everyone, we've got a very special show for you tonight!  Of course, every day is special when we erase more degenerates from our society, am I right audience?"
	"CULL THE HERD!  FEATHERS PURE!"
	"Exactly!"  He leaned in to the camera.  "We didn't rehearse that.  Can you believe that, the audience are just that good, maybe we should start paying them!"
A rippling laugh came through the crowd as the host grinned.
	"But yes, it's not every day that we get to claim an entire race of inferiors is cleansed from the earth, something we all hope for each day.  BUT, thanks to our determined workers at ETR, we uncovered an extraordinary thing!  An entire tribe of subsaurians living by themselves, in their own filth and speaking the same!"
A monitor came down from the ceiling to show recordings of the Tiergaduu.  Had anyone been there, they would know that the extra accessories were digitally-edited, their jangling bone-earrings and muddied-up bodies giving a stronger vibe to their inferiority.
Their language was left in, untranslated as they bantered amongst themselves, babbling and hammering things, with the more clever tools cropped out and random natives pixellated to infer more sordid imagery.  The audience gasped with murmurs of disgust, a rising swell of hatred that soon spread to the viewers at home.
	"Now, we did bring in an expert," the troodon put up his hands, "to make sure we got this right, here is Professor Ellie Rakovicz from the Ailuunopolis Institute of Historical Correction, so everyone give her a warm welcome!"
A white-and-brown acheoraptor appeared on the screen, now split between her in a studious book-filled office, and the wretched mongrels of Tiergaduu as the audience clapped politely.
	"Good evening!" she bowed.  "Thank you for inviting me!"
	"Not a problem, professor!" the compere bowed.  "Now you've seen this footage already, can you give us some insights to this culture?"
	"Yes of course!"  She brought up two charts of skin from different raptors.  "As we already know, the lack of plumage is a sign of physiological deficiency.  Integumentary structures such as here, here and here, are correlated to neural mapping due to an excess production of keratin.  Simply put, the Filshun are an underdeveloped species both mentally and physically, owing to a lack of beta-keratins in their structure."
	"I see, I see, and this tribe you see here are an example?"
	"Oh absolutely!  In fact, these ones are even more subsaurian than your average Filshun due to firstly their freakish horns, a rather painful mutation of excess keratin that was distributed incorrectly.  Secondly, their remedial vocal chords, of which their pathetic language has only two-hundred words of!"
	"Two-hundred?!" the troodon gasped.  "My 5-year old knows more than that!"
	"It is regrettable, yes," the professor nodded, "which is why the Institute has fully endorsed the cleansing of this tribe, including all of their records, their language and dwellings."
The audience applauded the decision as the monitor lifted itself back up.  The back of the stage started to turn with a large glass wall that was kept in darkness.
	"A round of applause for our good professor Rakovicz!  Now let's see the little rats in action, but for this episode, we're going to pick SEVERAL contestants to help with our cleansing!  And they are...John Gavinson!  Edward Atkinson!  Jenny Carrera!  AAAAAND Tricia Tang!"
Four creatures all stepped from the crowd with excitement.  A smooth-feathered psittacosaurus, a spikebacked tianyulong, an immensely fluffy T-rex, and a long-necked ornithomimus came together before the host who shook claws with the males, and kissed the females.
	"Welcome, welcome, so glad to have you here, tell us a bit about yourselves."
	"Well, my name's John," said the beaked red psittacosaur, "I'm a mechanic and live with my husband."
	"Ahhh, so you're the tool in the house!" the audience giggled.  "I'm joking of course, don't want to put a spanner in the works!  Now, what's your name?"
	"I'm Ed, I'm thirty-two," the bronze tianyulong nodded nervous, "a-and I'm a baker!"
	"Now you don't loaf around I bet!" more laughter from the crowd.  "Don't worry, just roll with it, any good citizen born and bread here knows what's what, eh?!"
	"HAH, haha, y-yeah, it's a real yeast-y!"
The audience groaned as the compere shook his head, but still gave a smile and rubbed the guest's shoulder before approaching the big yellow rex.
	"Now madame, how about you?"
	"My name's Jenny Carrera, I'm a pilot for AiluunAir, and I'm very happy to be here."
	"I bet you are, such a smooth voice, tell me do they train you to do that?"
	"Not for me, my voice has always been this smooth."
	"Goodness, your partner's very lucky to have someone guide them round the house for turbulence."
	"We have three children," she grinned, "there's always turbulence."
A tittering chortle filled the place as the troodon went to the green ornithomimus.
	"Aaaand lastly you, dear miss!"
	"O-OH, OH GOSH!" she babbled.  "M-my, my name's Tricia, and...a-and I'm a store clerk and AAAAH I'm so excited!"
	"Well don't get too excited or we'll need a cleanup on aisle five," the crowd chuckled as the host grinned, "having a good day already?"
	"YES!  OH, I watch your show all the time, I never miss an episode!"
	"Well!  Now I know who's always ticking the numbers over from six-million to six-million-and-one!  Alright now, it's time for our first game where we decide the pecking order of who snuffs what!  We have four degenerate filths lined up for you this evening, INCLUDING a very special girl who was just able to learn our language!"
	"Awwww!"
	"Of course, she learned it because she admired our ways so much, and even approached our staff to set the record straight through our great cleansing!  But first, it's time for our KING OF THE HILL!"
The glass wall lit up to reveal dozens of Tiergaduu children standing in an empty room.  Their heads were painted in different colours, and a white pyramid stood at its centre as toddlers and preteens played with each other.
	"We have eighty little ratlings here," said the compere, pulling out four cards, "with twenty of each marked in a colour.  We're going to open that pit, and whoever is the last one to remain standing on that hill, their colour will be the winner!  So contestants, please, pick a card any card!"
The adults each took a colour of red, blue, black and white, bouncing with excitement as the compere made a gesture to begin.  The children stammered from the shuddering floor, the metal sliding out underneath them as they rushed for the pyramid.  Some were too slow to realise, or too stupid frankly, and fell into the depths where there laid dozens of spikes.
The infants shrieked with gurgling rasp, as microphones and cameras picked up every scream and rabid hiss, the first dozen being stabbed through their skulls or impaled through their bodies.  Child guts spewed free, sometimes staining the camera lens in juicy viscerae, as the audience applauded at their desperate struggle.
By a natural instinct, the children tried to help each other up the pyramid, clawing the slippery edges with frantic desperation.  Tears streamed from their eyes as they babbled their native tongue, begging their friends and siblings to not let go.  The corpses piled up beneath them, as muddy-faced youths were pulled apart on the spikes like cracking eggs in a bowl.
All this was watched by the millions of Ailuun, but also their families who watched in horror.  Some were shocked at the brutality, and regret was starting to form amongst the more steady-minded natives.  But others were intrigued, mumbling with excitement, even chanting for their child to do better.
	"[[This...th-this is,]]" Geermu shuddered, "[[oh sweet mother of mountains, y-you MONSTERS!]]"
	"[[What?!]]" Shade cocked her head.  "[[They are correcting us, they have to make sure none of us can breed!]]"
	"[[THIS IS SLAUGHTER!  SHADE, YOU'RE DESTROYING ENTIRE FAMILIES!]]"
	"[[I didn't make them come here!  Berlan wanted this too, you defy our chief?!]]"
	"[[I-i...I admit I'm surprised,]]" the portly raptor muttered in his cage, "[[but look how happy they are making the world, the joys that shriek!]]"
	"[[YOU BLITHERING FAT BOAR!]]"  The grey teacher slammed against the bars.  "[[YOU MURDERED OUR FUTURE, THEY WANT TO ERASE US, THEY FEAR US!]]"
	"[[S-STOP IT!]]" the chief's wife pouted.  "[[This...th-this is what we have to do now, we can't leave even if we wanted to, we made a decision!]]"
	"[[You're wrong, all of you!  You...d-do you not care about our lives, our stories, our words and deeds of Tiergaduu?!  You accept our extinction?!]]"
	"[[Absolutely,]]" Shade sighed, slipping a hand to her cunt, "[[I've...I want to be corrected.  It looks so beautiful...you just have to wait longer.]]"
It was then that Geermu understood.  She was poisoned by the outside world, the words of their superiors correcting her to a greater cause.  His fear made him shiver with hatred, as the guards took precautions to add extra shackles to his limbs.

In the span of seven minutes, 60 children had died.  The hopes of Tiergaduu would die with them, as desperation grew when more of the children scrabbled onto the hill.  But there was only space for so many, and in a moment of shameful weakness, some voted to save themselves and shove their friends into the abyss.  Then the fighting started, as shrieks of outrage caused them to push and claw their faces, with lunging teeth and feral snarls.
The audience adored this, watching their culture reduced to savagery for survival.  The last of them was the most wily, a red-headed youth who managed to spiral round the pyramid and kick the top child off.  Falling into hell, he watched his fellow tribal screech with a brutal impalement, the head severing from the body in one clean drop as her eyes rolled up in spasming gasps.  Out of the five remaining infants to keep tight on the hill, two of them were red.
	"Well!" the host rubbed his hands.  "I think that's a clear winner for Edward the baker!"
The bronze spike-back gasped with a giddy bounce, his feathered spine swishing behind as the other contestants clapped politely.
	"Firstly, you get to take home a special child-sized skull of one of our tribal mongrels.  Second, you get to pick which game we do next!"
	"OH, th-thank you sir!" Edward bounced on the spot.  "U-um, oh jeez, I never thought I'd be part of a genocide!"
	"We're all doing our part, aren't we?!  Anyways, let's lock this down!"
The glass-walled room closed up its floor, giving the children some relief as they rolled off the hill in trembling sobs.  Then came the gunshots, as guards from off-screen took aim and riddled their little bodies, their shrieking howls delighting the audience as one 8-year old slammed against the one-way mirror.  The camera zoomed on his fear-stricken face, before an expert bullet tore through his throat and splashed crimson over the glass.
	"Now then, Mr. Atkinson, which of our illustrious games do you want to play?!  We have Mission Aborted, Electric Dance, The Penny Drops, and Swing 'em Low!"
	"Oooooh, oooh uhm!" the contestant fidgeted like a child in a candy store.  "U-uhhh, well, my wife's an electrician actually, I-i-i think she'd love a good electric dancing!"
	"Ahhhh, and how did you meet?  Was there a little spark between you?"
	"Hahaha, n-no no, we uh, we met at a mixer, and since then she's...been the light of my life."
The crowd fawned over his sweet pun as he looked to the camera bashfully.  Somewhere out there, a portly deinonychus was wiping her eyes and waving at the screen to her hubby, who was led over to one side of the stage.  One partition lifted up to show Berlan strapped by his arms, his legs dangling over a shallow pit.
	"This one comes on behalf of the Institute of Historical Correction," said the compere, "here we have the big chief of the tribe, and since he's the leader, this'll be a fun experiment to see what these savages consider the 'best' of their kind.  Now we have a special tool here, the Tranchenheimer named after the founder of lobotomy research."
Edward was handed a device that resembled a giant magnifying glass without the lens.  Every Ailuunian understood its function, as he stepped up behind Berlan and slipped it over the top of the raptor's skull.
	"[[AH, h-hello!]]" he tried to wave.  "[[How are you everyone, I am Berlan, the chief of Tiergaduu!  It's been wonderful to see you, and knowing my tribe entertains you so well even if our children are...a-are...anyways, I would be glad to speak to you of our ways and grand history, if Tikirnah was around to help me tra-A-AAAAH!]]"
The Tranchenheimer locked round his scalp, as saws carefully slipped free from its circle to scar through the bone.  A rippling sensation throbbed through the chief, feeling the sawblade teeth scrape into his skin and peel a layer above his eyes.  The vibrations made his teeth tingle, his eyes blurring from the sensation of ripping blades as his bone necklace shivered, and the feathers of his headdress rattled.
	"[[Wh-what are you doing?!]]" he babbled.  "[[O-OWW, this is, i-is this a ritual?!  I wasn't told about this!]]"
	"As you can see," the host swept his hand, "the Tranchenheimer makes good work for extracting subsaurian brains.  But we're going to do something a bit special."
The contestant cracked off the top of the skull, taking the horns and headdress off to reveal the juicy brain.  Resembling a large, bloated walnut, the quivering lump trickled with grey fluids as Berlan felt a terrible cold wash over his skull.  One of the staff then wheeled over a portable generator.
	"Now, Mr. Atkinson, let's see if your wife's lessons took hold!  You're going to put these prongs anywhere you like in the degenerate's brain, and the longer he lasts before death, the more prize money you'll get!"
	"A-alright!"  The tianyulong took two prongs.  "Now uh...whassa good spot."
	"[[UM, hello?!]]" the chief stammered, kicking his legs.  "[[What is that box?!  Why does my head feel colder now, when do I get to perform-A-AAAAIIIGH!]]"
His bellowing screech rang through the hall as the feathered player shanked two steel bolts into his brain.  There was not as much pain as he expected, but the violent pierce made his soul shiver from the icy-cold steel.  One of his eyes suddenly stopped working, and his words fumbled from his speech centre being stabbed through.
Not that anyone noticed, his rambling Tiergaduu dialect becoming a slurry of nonsense as the volts were turned on and he spasmed with agony.  His eyes felt like light bulbs about to snap, his muscles tensed like a dozen rubber bands, and his legs started kicking.  The audience crowed with joy at his screams, his dangling limbs twitching with eyes rolled back in stuttering pain.
His body was confused and epileptic, a throbbing rise from his loincloth that the cameras pixellated just in case.  The applause turned into laughter, as they pointed at his stubby cock forced erect from the electrocution.  One eye started veering left, the other wildly gyrated in exceptional suffering, as the chief of the tribe dribbled spots of pathetic pre.
But just as he hoped, he was entertaining his superiors with frantic spasms, dancing like at the gallows with shrieking moans and strange utterances.  In the scarring of electric bolts running through his brain, he was happy somehow.  A twitching gasp in his grin came through at the audience's glee, as parts of his brain started to boil and cook with little pops of his meats.
	"Aaaand we're coming up to the first minute!" the host tapped his foot.  "That's twenty-thousand for Edward, let's see if we can get to forty!"
	"POP THAT BRAIN!  POP THAT BRAIN!"
	"Goodness, they learned a new chant!  How do they keep doing that, we really do have the best of Ailuun here!"
Another two minutes passed as Berlan screamed with a gurgling fit, a drooling twitch from his maw whilst his legs kept on kicking.  His tongue flapped out in desperation, his feet clenched in agony until the veins pushed from his skin.  Half his brain had started to melt, as all his memories of Tiergaduu were flensed from his body.  He lost his words, then his hopes and at last his dreams when a hot-tarred slurry spilled out the back of his head.
	"AAAAAND TIME!" the troodon raised his hands.  "Four minutes and thirteen seconds, which means YOU, our dear Edward, have earned eighty-thousand dollars!"
	"OHH, OH MY GOD THANK YOU!" the baker tianyulong stepped back and jumped for joy.  "I-i, I wanna thank my wife, and everyone at the Costunella Bakery, love you guys!"
	"Give him a round everyone, Edward Atkinson!"

He walked off after being handed a big check in his name, as the next three contestants stepped up and were offered a hat to randomly pick their next challenge.  For fairness and ease, they went alphabetically, with Jenny Carrera the T-rex watching the braindead chief be dropped in the closed pit, and a wall slide open to reveal a black curtain with several eggs painted on.
	"Now, this is a treat!" the compere offered a knife.  "This is Mission Aborted, where you have to find and permanently neuter the chieftain's wife!  She's hiding behind this veil, and if you can neuter her in three tries, you'll get a cash prize!"
	"Awesome," the rex twirled the blade, "best kinda mongrel's one that can't breed."
	"But if they're dead then they never can!"
	"Exactly."  She winked with the audience laughing.  "Three tries you said?"
	"Yes indeed, madame Carrera, now have at it!"
Behind the curtain was Tandra, spread-eagled in ropes wearing only her feathered headdress.  She had heard the crowd cheering from beyond, and the rattling screams of her husband making the oddest sounds much to their excitement.
	"[[Goodness they must have loved him,]]" she murmured in Tiergaduu, "[[now just to wait and see what they want...not sur why I'm tied up like this, Berlan only did it on our honeymoon for special fun-A-AAAH!]]"
Something ripped beside her, a terrible scrape of a gleaming knife that made her shiver with a drip.  A large shadow loomed behind the curtain, as Tandra started trembling with a growing fear.
	"[[Is...i-is this what...oh no!  OH NO!  UM, S-SIR?!  SIR I, I-I THINK I MADE A MISTAKE!]]"
But her cries went unheeded as the staff watched behind her, putting fingers through holes made with their hands and taking bets on which part of her they could use.  Regrets formed in her mind as she felt the dreaded rex search for her weak spot, her panicked cries giving her a chance to hone in on her body.  Jenny's head listened close for trembling breaths, a hunter's instinct taking over as the knife slipped near the veil.
Then it came.  A ruthless stab straight to her abdomen as she screamed in agony, the cold steel splitting her scales and exposing her womb.  Jenny snickered with glee as blood dripped through, as the crowd went wild when she started shanking through the belly.
	"[[A-AAAAAH, AAAAAIIIIIIH!  BERLAN, BERLAN H-HEEELP MEEEE, OH-OHHHH G-GODS NOOoooooo!]]"
	"INCREDIBLE!" the host clapped.  "Second try, Mrs. Carrera has eviscerated the tribal scum!  Madame, please give the honours of finishing the job!"
	"I always do," the contestant grinned.
The rex in yellow focused on her blade, finding the parts with most resistance to carve through and find her ovaries.  Most of the curtain was pulled away to show the horned raptor's head, her sandy-brown face left exposed for the audience to witness her suffering.  Her chest was still covered up for primetime's sake, as she felt a twisting scrape pluck her ovaries free and render her fully sterile, and the future of her race grew darker.
Tandra screeched with stuttering sobs, as more of her femininity was ripped clean from her body.  Bloody pools formed at Jenny's feet as she chuckled foul, hollowing the entire abdomen with an oval shape to peel away the flesh, and then her womb in turn which flapped out onto the floor.
She would not die as quick as her husband did, left to hang in mourning with a waterfall between her legs.  Her body sputtered the last of her jizz as she hung her head, seeing her lower portion spill its guts when Jenny pulled back her knife and savoured her work.  A rousing applause filled the room as the rex took her bow, handing the bloody knife back to the host.
	"Exceptional," he said, "you truly love to see another degenerate cleansed from the pool twice!"
	"Glad to be of service," the rex saluted, "cull the herd and FEATHERS PURE!"
The crowd whooped with elation as she marched off the stage to receive her cash prize.  The wall closed off to let Tandra die alone, as the staff rubbed their hands to pull her down and use her body the way it was deserved.
Next up to the plate was John, the red psittacosaurus whose beak opened wide when another entire wall pulled back to reveal a magnificent machine of cruel intent.  A giant plinko cabinet with several slopes, upon which the rest of the Tiergaduu adults stood whilst two shelves full of sawblades moved back and forth at the bottom.
	"Now John, we have a hundred-and-eighty-five savages just waiting to be culled.  This is a big moment in your life, not many get to slaughter nearly two hundred roaches!"
	"Oh this is amazing," the mechanic grinned wide, "it's hard to go out cleansing in my job, always so busy!"
	"Well now you can make up for it!  For every limb you manage to get down in that pit, your prize money will go up!  But of course, you have only six balls to deploy, so aim well!"
As Gavinson stepped to the controls, the natives trembled trying to keep standing on the tilting slopes.  Geermu was amongst them, trying to calm the more panicked group among them whilst the more eager degenerates hopped in joy.
	"[[Oh this is so exciting!  Look at all the Ailuun, they're so happy to watch us die!]]"
	"[[YOU IMBECILE, THEY WANT TO SLAUGHTER US, I TOLD YOU!]]"
	"[[Shade said it was a good thing!  We're animals, right?  And they hunted us for good, that's just the way things are!]]"
	"[[WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!]]"  The grey raptor grabbed one.  "[[WE ARE A PROUD AND JOYOUS TRIBE, WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME HERE!]]"
	"[[Like it or not, we're here now, so we might as well serve our masters the way we deserve!]]"
Horror took the teacher's heart as he felt a thunk from above.  The first ball came rolling down the slides, a raptor-sized metal orb that crunched through six Tiergaduu at once, to knock them off the edge and into the blades.  The ball kept thunking down the slides to scoop up 37 more, as there came a vicious tearing of bone when the bodies hit the bottom.  Bones scattered like blossom petals, and severed limbs jostled into the pit to rack up a money count above the machine.
	"[[OH SWEET MOTHER!]]"  Geermu stumbled on the bloody lane.  "[[Th-this...they're murdering us.  They laugh and mock at our execution, do you not SEE their twisted faces?!]]"
	"[[I-i want to leave!]]" screamed one native trying to climb.  "[[Quick, this way!]]"
	"[[NO, I'm staying!]]" shouted another.  "[[Shade told us what we were and I believe her, we're savage mongrels, they deserve to slaughter us!]]"
	"[[And erase everything we had?!]]" the silver beast snapped.  "[[No, no I am not going to die here like a filthy mongrel, I will FIGHT to survive, as the spirit of Tiergaduu demands!]]"
He gathered those who had not yet accepted their fate, as they made motions to climb up to the peak with daring jumps and scrabbling claws.  The balls came rolling still as Geermu's group tried to evade, inciting boos from the audience at their yearning to live.  The rest however were all too happy to die, spreading arms wide to embrace eternity when the boulders shoved them off the edge, and sent them hurtling to the abyss.
Their limbs snapped free from the sawblades, a teeth-tingling sound that cracked through the contestant's ears as he positioned the next shot.  The next three balls slammed one after the other, punching more helpless natives into the hole of teeth where mud-bloodied corpses and jangling earrings were left to rot.  The money grew higher and so did their pieces, as Geermu scrambled his way to the top.
By the time Gavin reached the fourth ball, there were only 56 Tiergaduu left who hopped about in fear.  The scholar thought he had reached the exit, a hole in the ceiling as he leapt his way towards it.  Then the ball slammed his face, and sent him tumbling back down like a spider in the drainpipe, along with five other raptors unfortunate enough to be hit by his body.
Concussed by the heavy blow, Geermu was helpless as he ragdolled to the near-bottom, with more tribals tumbling to their end as they screeched through the air.  The grey one grabbed for the ledge just in time, hearing his brethren scream before the crunching saws tore them apart in explosions of blood.
	"[[A-AAAAH!  NOOOO!  S-SOMEONE, HELP!]]"
	"FALL, FALL, FALL, FALL!"
	"[[I WON'T...I WON'T SURRENDER, NRAAAARGH!]]"
He tried to force himself up, but then came the last ball.  Seven more raptors followed into the grave, smashed by the orb that sweeped over his head, but then two of the natives grabbed onto his tail mid-fall.  He gasped with a howl as he struggled to keep his grip, claws scraping on the metal as he looked back to their extinction.
	"[[G-geh...Geermu,]]" gasped one, "[[h-help...help us.]]"
But he knew there was no hope.  The ennui had sunk in as the audience chanted at him to fall, and the trench full of Tiergaduu remains was too bitter a sight to swallow.  He thought back to the game he had played with the children, whose faces he would never see again.  Faces that no one wanted to see again, just like his own.  Perhaps Shade was right, he thought to himself, as he took a deep breath and accepted the truth.
	"Kir.  Aur.  Mota."
He released his grip and soon embraced death, his body soon ripped asunder with mangled flesh and twisted arms left in his wake.  The slopes bled with crimson as his knowledge was torn to a thousand pieces, replaced by jagged teeth that carved his teachings asunder.  To the cheer of hundreds, and also millions from their homes, the words of Tiergaduu were soon lost forever.
	"ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!" the troodon shook John's hand.  "Two-hundred-and-sixty-eight limbs, what a result!"
	"Thank you," the psittacosaurus nodded, "shame I couldn't kill 'em all."
	"Oh, you let us deal with that.  You did more than enough today as a good citizen of Ailuun."
He snapped his fingers as the slopes suddenly went vertical.  The rest of the remaining natives fell with sudden shock, a screeching medley that delighted Ailuun with a bloody gush from below.  Bone shards and leg pieces thunked on the glass wall, as the money was counted up for Gavinson.

The last contestant would step up at last, the plinko cabinet pulling back into its alcove when the host took Tricia to the side.  The long-necked ornithomimus bounced with a shriek, despite being picked for last with the least-interesting game.
	"Now Tricia," the host began, "unfortunately you won't be getting much of a prize here, at least not for money.  But...we do have something very special for you, something I think is maybe worth more than money."
	"I-is it a boat?!" she squeaked.
	"Hahaha, no, no, this is far less work to maintain!  Now, let's have a little rollback because our staff made a special counter for the filth we had today."
The TV screen  lowered once more, showing a short film compiled from today's show.  Dramatic edits and close zooms of the contestants and victims were accompanied by That Voice which one always heard during primetime intermissions.
	"Once, there were too many."
Pictures flashed of the Tiergaduu in their home.
	"But now...four good citizens stepped up to purify this world.  Two-hundred-and-fifty-three savages, erased at last."
The highlights rolled through Berlan and Tandra, the children falling on spikes and their elders joining them.  The number 253 ticked down with each clip, a threatening beep like a bomb ready to explode as the audience held its breath.  200.  180.  130.  70.  20.  Then it stopped at 1.
	"One degenerate remains, for our last contestant.  One whose death, will mean a purer, perfect Ailuunian realm."
A deep boom rang through the hall.  The lights pointed towards Shade who stood on the gallows, beside a noose with her hands free and a guard accompanying.
	"Tricia Tang," began the host, "are, you, ready, to GENOCIIIIIIIIDE?!"
She clapped her face in a roaring shriek that the audience joined, bouncing on her feet and running around the host before they were brought up to Shade's execution.  The raptor in blue bowed with a polite grin, as her superiors stood beside her on the platform.
	"Now, this one is special," said the troodon, "would you like to introduce yourself?"
	"Yes, thank you master."  The audience gasped at her words in their own tongue.  "My name is Shade, and I was the one who brought my tribe here."
	"You hear that, folks?!  A self-corrector, even in the farthest realms, someone who's never lived in our society, even THIS filthy mongrel understood where she belongs!"
	"I do, master!" she grinned without showing teeth.  "I-i learned your wonderful language, and signed the thing that says you die willing!  I was so happy to see you kill the Filshun, so many inferiors dead to make you happy, just like we should be!"
	"Exactly.  Now this is Tricia Tang, she's going to exterminate you wretched scum from the world."
	"Oh, thank you ma'am!" Shade clasped her hands.  "I am so happy you erase me from this world!"
	"I-i am too!" the contestant spat at her feet.  "You're a, a-a-a filthy, FILTHY little rat, I've been wanting to kill you since I came here!"
	"You honour me, madame.  I hope my death brings you the most joy you ever had."
	"Now we are running a little short on time," the compere stated, "so we can't do any dismemberment."
	"Awwwwww."
	"BUT, genocide is its own gift, right?!"
	"YEAAAAAH!"
	"Cull the herd, f-feathers pure!" squeaked Tricia, tapping her feet.  "C-can I kill her now?!"
	"You most certainly can, in fact YOU will be the proud owner of this Filshun's skull, a specially-degenerate freak whose head will look good on any mantelpiece!  PLUS, you also get a set of her bones fashioned into ornaments, so you remember erasing her disgusting tribe forever."
	"OHHH YES!" the ornithomimus clapped.  "I'm gonna look so CUTE at work, nobody else gets Filshun bones AAAAH they'll be jealous!"
	"Then are you ready to ethnic cleanse?" he swept his hand.  "Just step right here, Ms. Tang."
He brought her to the side of the gallows where a lever stood waiting.  Shade gladly put herself in the noose, her arms soon tied behind her back as she waited for her judgment.
	"Now, before we get to the main event," said the troodon, "since you're the last of your inferior kind, would you like to see your home one last time?"
	"Really?" the blue raptor gasped.  "I would like to, yes!"
	"Bring up the monitor because, we got our special cleansing task already out there making sure it's GONE!"
The TV flicked on to show the cameras left in the village.  Tiergaduu was now occupied only by the muscular feathered guards, their thick rex-like heads of black-and-white shining in the dimming light.  With the signal given, they brought out their flamethrowers and set fire to the grounds, blasting through generations of beloved huts and charring the trees.
Shade gasped in quivering bliss, watching the destruction of her home and all of her worthless culture.  Stories written on walls were scoured in deep black, scrolls and paintings were reduced to cinders and beloved toys burned to ashes.  All of her memories and the words of her history were devoured in flames, as the quick-acting fire tore through struts and sent huts crashing down, as well as the trees they wrapped round.
In the space of a few minutes, nothing was left of Tiergaduu.  She started to cum with a quivering moan, which the camera thankfully pulled away from to focus on her blissful expression.  As her home became mulch and the forest was a sea of red, the audience roared with delight before they turned on the native.
	"How was that, dear degenerate?" the host chuckled.
	"S-so...beautiful," her eyes dripped with tears, "I was...I am s-so glad you exterminate us."
	"Wonderful.  Truly glad to hear more subsaurians come forth.  Any last words you have to give?"
	"Yes."  Shade cleared her throat.  "I know my place.  If I don't evolve, I'm not worth anything.  To live is to suffer...and to survive was selfish of us.  Please...kill me.  Exterminate my filthy race."
	"You heard her, Tricia!  It's time to GEN-NO-CIDE that mongrel scum!"
	"YESSSS!"
The contestant slammed the lever down, as the floor dropped under Shade and her throat violently jerked.  The rope crunched into her larynx, cutting off her air as her eyes rolled up in blissful scream, her legs kicking enough to make her swing.  The last of the Tiergaduu gave in with slackened limbs, a rasping hiss that all around her savoured, and the mics recorded the death of her race.
Her tongue bloated and her neck tightened harder, her arms tightened up to the point of almost snapping through her veins.  Her teeth clenched together in a heaving grunt, until her eyes turned red with suffocation and the audience watched her blood vessels swell within them.  In her last moments, Shade saw the peaks of her mountain home, the sky full of clouds and her mother's face.
With burning lungs shrivelling in her chest, the traitorous Shade embraced her reward in one final gasp.  A moment of silence was allowed to make certain she was dead, and once her body turned still, the studio erupted.
	"And THAT, IS, THE END OF THE SHOW!" the troodon cheered.  "WOW, what a show, folks, you rarely get to see the extinction of an entire sub-race, but THAT...that, is down to our favourite heroine of the hour, MIIIIISS TRICIA TAAAANG!"
The contestant wept with pure elation, sobbing with rapture as her voice was drowned from the screaming audience.  Confetti poured down as the number on the TV went to 0 at last, keeping shot of the burning village as the host hugged Tricia tight.
	"Congratulations," he said, "you should be proud, you'll also receive an Honorary Purifier certificate from the Institute!  And that's all from me here at ETR, thank you all for watching, and remember, to POP-YOU-LESS!"
The show jingle rang through as those watching on TV would see the credits roll past.  Shade's corpse remained on focus, swinging by itself with a grinning death.  Her tribe's remains would be picked clean of their flesh and sold as commemorative rarities, with at least one skull taken to the Institute as an example of Degenerate Studies.
But beyond that, the name and language was erased from history.  Any mentions during recording were edited in future reruns, and even the contract Shade had signed would have names removed for posterity.  The only evidence they ever existed was on Pop-You-Less, like all Filshun would be in the end.