In the kingdom of Ailuun, the most exciting show on national television in the kingdom of Ailuun, the millions of feathered denizens all sitting in houses, watching jumboscreens outside, or even lucky enough to be in the audience of the primetime special dedicated to the greatest noble cause.  The music would start up, families eagerly crowded round their sets to watch a stunningly-handsome host.
A grand stage in splashes of red draped behind him, with various mock-ups of featherless raptors in savage caricature being stomped, stabbed or eviscerated with saws.  The host resembled a scaly peacock, a slender anthro troodon with emerald feathers wrapped in a jade suit.
	"WWWWWELCOME EVERYONE AND ALL TO THE MOST POPULAR GAME IN ALL GOOD NESTS, LIVE FROM ASTERIUS, IT'S TIME TO!"
	"POP, YOU, LESS!"
	"YES, IT'S POPULESS!  Back again same time every week, and we've got some shocking news for you this week!  The Filshun are getting a little too high in numbers, as expected of our least-favourite vermin, so what do we say to that?"
	"CULL THE HERD!  FEATHERS PURE!"
	"EXACTLY RIGHT, wow what a loyal audience we have, as loyal as our hunters and self-correctors!  Let's start with our first contestant, Mavis Dimbleby COME ON DOOOOWN!"
A gasping joy as a portly archaeopteryx came rushing down the steps, the audience entirely full of dromaeosaurids.  Raptors, troodons and dineobellators all clapped and whooped in a myraid of feathered bodies.  Mavis clapped her arms in a gleeful joy, the host hugging her in a showbeast fashion.
	"WELL Mavis, welcome to the show, how are you feeling?!"
	"O-OH, ohh gosh, I-i can't believe it, th-this is like a dream come true AHH!"
	"Hahaha, it certainly is, tell me, how do you feel about the Filshun?"
	"Oh they're just FILTHY!" the housewife shuddered.  "Vile featherless filthy things, absolute degenerates!  I'm so glad our government voted to put them down and cleanse their DISGUSTING bodies from our kingdom!"
	"Wow, we got a fiery one here folks!" the host grinned wide rubbing her back.  "But she's right, and this is a perfect time to say our dearest thanks to the High Council for their endorsement of Populess!  Who says a little ethnic cleansing can't be fun?!"
	"It's more fun than house cleaning that's for sure!"
The audience laughed at Mavis' joke, the host snickering in turn as he brought her over to a podium, a large curtain pulling back to reveal a giant wheel and a large screen.  On this screen was a large group of frightened featherless saurians, huddling each other naked in a dirty pit like cavebeasts.
	"Here's our first lucky contestants today, they're two families from the Darkhush sector ranging up to FIFTY wingless rats!  These little blighters breed fast, as you can see from the Verminometer!"
From above a large counter revealed itself, ticking up the supposed numbers of how many Filshun were currently alive at this time.  All of the audience booed with thumbs down at its gentle upwards tick.
	"I know I know," said the host, "that's ten-thousand too many!  Mavis what do you think, what should that number be?"
	"OH, zero!" she gasped.  "This is such a lovely city, we can't have these monsters running around infecting us with their disease!"
	"Hah, a scholar too I see, are you a doctor?"
	"No sir, I'm a teacher!"
	"Just as good!" the compere chuckled patting her arm.  "Good to see our children learn where THESE vermin belong thanks to our Mavis Dimbleby.  But for now, let's put these families where they belong, and where is that dear audience?"
	"IN, THEIR, GRAVES!"
	"You love to hear it," the troodon chuckled, "now, Mavis, for those just tuning in, this is the Wheel of Justice.  Whatever it lands on, that'll be how the Filshun meet their righteous fate.  HOWEVER!  It's not fun to just spin the wheel, we have a skill game just for you, and if you win, you personally get to choose their execution, whaddaya say?!"
The audience turned frantic with applause as she nodded eagerly, brought over to a plinko game where four featherless raptors had their heads sticking out of holes.  Each hole was a guillotine, with several cradling spots underneath where prizes were plastered if a head managed to roll in there.
Mavis would press one of four buttons condemning a Filshun to death, their squirming struggling screams delighting the audience before the thunking chop, and a head came rolling down to crunch against the cradles, leaving a trail of blood from its severed stump.  The biggest prizes in the centre, were either cash money, or getting to choose how to kill the imprisoned raptors on the wheel's screen.
In the back rooms of the studio, sitting in a cage under the eyes of several burly deinonychus, were two green featherless raptors.  One was a male with green eyes, the other female with gold pupils, naked and in chains showing all their goods to their superiors.  Some of the guards were disgusted, muttering loudly what degenerates they were, whilst a few others openly groped themselves with lurid thoughts.
Black stripes rippled down their backs and tails, their bellies the colour of chopped pears as the male looked increasingly worried, constantly rubbing his legs.  But his companion struggled to hide her glee, swishing her tail in maddening excitement.  The door to their room opened as a modest dineobellator stepped inside, wearing a brown suit and spectacles over her black beak.
	"Karazeel and...Noggurd?"
	"Uh, it's Nogard-OW!"
	"Don't correct your superiors," one of the guards slammed the male with a rifle, "you speak when spoken to and nothing else you fucking shitscale."
	"Now now, let's not be uncivil," the suit bowed, "my name's Diane, I'm your court-appointed executioner and media agent.  Firstly, thank you so much for coming, we always love having self-correctors on the show."
	"Glad to be here!" Kara cried sitting up.  "It's been my dream for so long to put us filthy vermin in our place."
	"Hahaha, I like you, can I call you Kara?"
	"You can call me anything you want long as I'm dead."
	"HAH, hmhmhm...ohhh I wish all of your race were just like you, so eager for extinction!  Well, one day your kind will go."
She offered her clipboard through the cage bars, a pen attached with some legalese as the guards kept their guns pointed to their heads.
	"Just sign here, both of you."
	"What is this?" asked Nogard.
	"Your consent to appear on the show as a self-corrector and that you willingly embraced your death."
	"Okay but-"
	"Yyyyoink!" Kara snatched the pen and immediately wrote hers down.  "Go on brother, sign it!"
	"Wait, h-hold up I just wanna know-"
	"Sign the damn warrant you fucking rat!" barked the guard.
	"Adrian, what did we say about anger?" Diane pointed to him.  "Superiors control emotions-"
	"And savages are slaves to them...hhhhh, fine."
The burly-feathered beast stood back as the dineobellator sat closer.
	"How can I help you, Nog?"
	"Uh, Nogard," the male Filshun nodded, "what's the point of us signing this when we're gonna die anyway?"
	"Oh I'm glad you asked!  We love to collect self-corrector signatures so that we can encourage more of your kind to surrender for cleansing!  Some of you are very difficult to find, and the more self-correctors we collect, the more chances those like your sister do the right thing."
	"W-well...this is all kind of weird and feels...wrong."
	"That's natural dear," she smiled disarming, "that's called fear, I know you savages are rather susceptible to it, but that's fine!  It's not your fault you're inferior, but the laws of the world do say that Filshun need to be rooted out to better our society."
	"She's right bro," Kara hugged him, "you know it's a lot easier for us to go, what's waiting for us out there?  Starving without food, hiding in ghettos, it's just a lot easier and better for us if we just let them kill us."
	"That's a really fucked thing to say," he shook his head, "I know you always had weird ideas sis but this is really gross."
	"Then why'd you come?  Maybe a little part of you already accepts it, and you're just a lickle bick embarrassed to say it?"
She tickled along his neck with her claws causing him to giggle and twitch, grimacing at the thoughts clashing in his head between accepting his fate and decrying the world.  A cognitive dissonance had been forming in his mind the past month, pushing against the despair of the inevitable, and the need to embrace the abyss.
Kara did not help, or perhaps she did in her own desires for death.  She had always been a risktaker, always daring herself to climb the tallest tree, dive the deepest water, and not really care if she would ever survive.  In fact, Nogard had wondered if she had always had a suicidal streak, emboldened by the new world.  
Through either her will, or his lack of it, he signed the warrant as the cage door opened, their hands and feet still chained with two guards walking them out into the halls.
	"Thank you," said Diane in front, "we're just taking you to the prep room, get you all TV-ready and take you through the routine."
	"Can I choose my death?!" gasped Karazel.  "I heard self-correctors get to choose their own deaths."
	"Oh yes, absolutely!  Any ideas sweetie?"
	"Mmmm, I'd love to be hung.  I used to put ropes round my neck when  I was a kid, always got excited by the tightness."
	"Awww, a suicide?" the court agent blushed.  "Shame you didn't kill yourself, one less of you in the world is always good."
	"Jeez ma'am," muttered Nogard, "we're already here."
	"And we're very thankful, however you kill yourself is a good thing to the world."
Shuffling through the halls like prisoners, they were taken to a make-up room somewhere close to the stage.  Mirrors lined the walls with fashionable artistes in black vests ready to receive them, the two were forced to sit in restraints as a pair of blue pamparaptors approached.
	"Hi, name's Kevin, this is Keith, great to have you here."
	"Hi there!" Kara cried.  "How are you, ready to see me die?"
	"Oh babe, every day one of your filth is dead is a good day to me, love working with self-correctors."
	"I'm really glad to be here," she blushed, "can't wait to be dead finally, fuck I'm getting wet just thinking about it."
	"Hahah, that makes all of us.  Right now, we're going to muck you up, give you a real filth-trodden look.  We don't want ditch-sleeping Filshun, that's old, that's passe and I don't wanna say this but, makes you look almost TOO relatable, get what I'm putting down?"
	"I know you're putting ME down, am I right?"
	"HAH, hahaha, oh this one's great!"
	"I know right?" Diane chuckled hugging her clipboard.  "I hope you keep that attitude up on stage, the crowd are going to love your extermination."
	"I'll be the best Filshun to ever self-correct," Kara wiggled in her seat, "so, what are you guys gonna do?"
	"Well," continued Kevin, "we want a nice, foul, sewer-living Filshun, just a real disgusting bitch, we're talking 'sucks off rats to get protein', but like, not saying it, you get it?know what I mean?"
	"And this skin looks GREAT."  Keith picked up her tail with sanitary gloves.  "Damn this'd be nice for a handbag, thinking of a pochette."
	"Oh no no wallets babe," Kevin argued, "pochettes are fucking last season, s'all about the wallets."
	"Heheheh, thank you!"  Kara blushed.  "You're welcome to have my skin after I'm gone."
	"Oh yeah, li'l bit of glitter, jazz it up, easy."
	"Wait wait you never told me this!" Nogard gasped.  "I didn't know they took our fucking skin-A-AAAGH!"
	"DON'T, talk back you fucking shit!" the guard punched him again.
	"OOH, wait!"  The make-up artist checked Nogard's scalp.  "Awww nice, babe see that's the good darkening we want right here, can you hit him right there again?"
	"Gladly."
The deinonychus slammed his fist in Nogard's skull, tearful whimpers from the brother as the two pamparaptors started to dirtify the two subsaurians.  Kara was a perfect obedient bitch, preening herself with all the artificial mud and sewer-coloured drip they gave, to only look wretched for the camera without being septic.
Nogard on the other wing was more reticent, barely willing and constantly flinching from the brushes over his cheeks and the slap of foundation to gunk his body.  Diane prepped them through basic tutelage of TV talk, answering only when asked, no swearing in front of cameras, no sexual references, never using your own name, and always addressing others as Sir, Ma'am, or Master.
At the corner of the prep room they saw the TV, where Mavis had severed all four heads clean through but unfortunately didn't get the cash prize, or the choice of execution.  A sympathetic cheer came from the audience, as four bloody neckstumps dripped down over the plinko board.
	"Well Mavis that was real bad luck," said the host, "those pesky vermin never die the way you want them to huh?"
	"Mmmm, physics, what can you do?!" cried Mavis.  "Even rat heads are a slave to that!"
	"Oh, are you a science teacher?"
	"No no, geography," Mavis bowed.
	"Ohohhh, so I take it you know where to send these vermin packing?"
	"I do sir, STRAIGHT to the hellgate where they belong!"
	"Hahah, glad to hear!" the audience laughed with the host.  "Well don't worry, we're giving you a commemorative Filshun skull, sterilised and personally killed by you to take home to your family."
	"Thank you!  My son will love it, he hates those vermin too!"
	"Hahah, who doesn't?  Alright Mavis, you might still get your chance for a preferred death if the fates are smiling.  What would you like from the wheel?"
The camera screen above showed the featherless families still, fifty trembling bodies showing their fear in front of millions, who savoured their death and misery.
	"Mmmmm," the chufty schoolteacher tapped her beak, "gosh, I'm really partial to some firing squads."
	"Ohhh really, are you a bloodthirsty sort?"
	"Well, my husband's in the army, and he always sends me pictures of Filshun he gunned down."
	"AWWWWWW."  The audience fawned.
	"Such a romantic," the troodon host shook his head, "he's very lucky to have you Mavis, I hope he's watching."
	"OH yes, never misses it!"  She waved to the camera.  "HI DEREK, LOVE YOU SWEETIE, KEEP KILLING THE FILTH!"
	"And now you get to kill some filth too, make your husband proud!  It's time...to spin...the WHEEL OF JUSTICE!"
	"SPIN AND KILL, SPIN AND KILL!"
The audience pumped their fists all at once, a sea of feathers shaking with frenzy as Mavis spun the wheel hard, crossing her clawfingers as adorable pictures of featherless raptors being hung, gassed, stabbed and beheaded adorned each slice.  Children at home screamed for murder, pounding their hands and clapping their feathers as they chanted with their parents.
Slowly the wheel would trickle down, ticking past death by death until much to everyone's surprise, it was exactly what Mavis wanted.  A gun plugging a Filshun's head as the crowd erupted in excitement.
	"WOW, INCREDIBLE!" the troodon gasped.  "The fates were so moved by the love of your husband it seems you willed your wish into being!"
	"OHOH MY GODS!" cried Mavis clapping hard.  "OHOH, DEREK, THIS ONE'S FOR YOU, LET'S KILL 'EM ALL SWEETIE!"
	"NOW EVERYONE, IT'S TIME TO POPULESS!"
All eyes turned to the screen above the wheel, the starved and naked creatures trembling in fright with pleading sobs and mewling cries.  Some of them were children who couldn't even remember a world before Populess, before the council of Ailuun made their existence illegal.
The door opened to their pit, a squad of feathered deinonychus cocking their rifles.  Powerful screams filled the air as mothers clutched their hatchlings and fathers lunged in desperate fear.  There were no survivors, blood spattering in red glorious ribbons across the screen as bullets pumped through chests and perforated skulls.
The featherless freaks were gunned down, sobbing daughters and trembling grandfathers struggling to hold out with bared teeth.  Those who died quickly were the lucky ones, but those left crawling besides their friends and families would watch in horrible anguish as gunfire deafened their ears.
Feather-clad guards cackled as they bootkicked infants and stomped mothers' heads, pinning one down before blasting a spray of bullets down the entire back of one beast's spine.  The soldiers even made a little game to pick up the smallest children, tossing them in the air like clay pigeons to fire and burst in a beautiful shower of limbs.
The last of the Filshun in the pit would crawl into the corner, his guts dragging behind as he whispered foul curses upon their society.  His execution was given a special close-up, a boot squishing his blown-open belly as one soldier forced the gun in his mouth.
The camera hung on his tearful face, his sobbing fury muffled by the barrel before the click of the trigger.  The raptor's head became a smear of crimson, bone and brain dripping off the rifle as his featherless arms slumped, to the roaring joy of the audience.
	"WHAT a WONDERFUL execution, fifty Filshun faced their fates!  Children, try to say that six times swift!  WELL, I think our dear Mrs Dimbleby deserves a special gift.  We're getting her one of THESE new appliances to take home with her, AND, all fifty of those Filshun skins will be sterilised and woven into a commemorative Populess table doily."
	"OHOHO THANK YOU!" she cried.  "OHHH, this is the best day ever, I-i want the toaster-oven, and the mini-fridge please!"
	"Absolutely, thank you so much for playing."  He patted her with a kiss as she went back to her seat.  "Stay tuned after the break when we have a VERY special round two, so don't go away, and keep your feathers pure!"
The commercial went on as the audience took time to relax and get some refreshments.  The camera crew turned off mics as the troodon host took a deep breath and walked towards the technicians.
	"God, fucking damn," he muttered, "can't wait to get my dick off when the audience leaves, I heard we got a real rapebitch in."
	"Greg showed me a pic," muttered a camerabeast, "fuck I'm preing so bad boss, I'm gonna nut in every fucking hole she has."
	"Hahah, which one you want?"
	"Oh you know I'm an ass man, but she got a brother, I might fuck him instead."
	"Heheh, more bitch for me."
None of the audience heard this of course, and neither did anyone in the prep room as Kara and Nogard looked on at the execution with completely opposite faces.  The sister was almost jizzing in her seat, puffing out her scaly pussy with a whimpering moan whilst the brother cringed shrinking back against his spine.
	"F-f-fuck," he grimaced, "that...th-those were kids.  Sis those were fucking kids."
	"I know," she sighed, "gods they were so lucky, I wish I'd been one of them."
	"Are you for real!?  Shit you're really doing this, I can't believe you get off to us being-"
	"Yeah?"  Kara scoffed.  "Bro, come on, we're going to die either way, no one's going to judge you or me for getting weird thoughts about dark shit.  It's what we deserve."
	"Exactly," Diane tittered patting her, "you're already seen as vermin, you can't possibly do anything worse to degrade yourself!  Why not just let go, accept your fate, it's much easier for you and our superior kin."
	"All cuz we don't have feathers," snorted the brother, "does it really make a difference?"
	"It makes all the difference, you're a relic of the past, an inferior unevolved subspecies, if we just let you do what you want, you could end up weakening our genes when we spent so long reaching the skies!"
	"I agree!" the sister-raptor crowed.  "I even tell our kids every single night where we belong, everything the vids tell us!"
	"You have...children?" the dineobellator stroked her chin.  "And they're not here with you?"
	"W-well, I wasn't sure how many we were allowed, I wanted our deaths to be a surprise.  We watch the show every day, me and my husband."
	"Your husband?  But..."
Everyone turned towards Nogard, Kara's hand sliding across to his as he turned beet-red in the face.  Shocks of disgust filled the room, but Diane was even more enthralled.
	"Inbred children as well?  Ohoho, gods you are precious.  What a sickening degeneracy, proving everything right, you are truly a credit to your subsaurian race!"
	"Thank you," the Filshun girl beamed with pride, "they'll be watching this tonight too...I really hope they follow me."
	"I'm sure they will.  One way or another."
Her brother gulped with a nervous grin, seeing how genuinely happy she was.  With no one else in the world, it was inevitable they started a family together in secret beneath the world.  But Kara was so enthralled with their fate, that no matter how hard Nogard tried to convince her society was wrong, she kept eagerly trying to surrender.
He knew there was no fighting back, there would be no change and as she said, the longer they lasted, the worse it became.  Maybe this was the best fate for them, her logic was sound in that getting a choice to die was better than none.  Resigning himself, Nogard took a deep breath as the pamparaptors finished up their work in uglifying them.
They looked like drowned corpses, sodden and bereft with fake ooze to look exceptionally dirty, in a clinical safe-for-TV fashion.  The commercials were all splendid justifications for the great ongoing genocide, all of which were lapped up eagerly by consumers at home.
There were hunting trips to the outlands, where subsaurians roamed in ragged clothes to be gunned down or captured; demonstrations of skinning tools with limited offers; a sitcom about a pet shop owner trying to sell their Filshun slave disguised as different animals; and of course a message paid by the High Council, encouraging all good citizens to report, hunt down, and exterminate them.
	"Since the birth of our new society, Ailuun has become a thriving epicentre of commerce, industry and care for its citizens.  But even with all of us together, there still remains the great problem.  The Filshun.  Wretched genetic defects who lack the strength and intelligence of us, their unevolved ways are in danger of decaying the very foundations of our kingdom.
	"As of their election, the High Council has ordained all methods necessary against the Filshun to be legal.  A subsidy bonus is awarded to each citizen who reports or puts down a Filshun.  This is not cruelty, but necessity, to preserve a better future for this earth, for our children and their children's children.  Even members of this subsaurian race agree."
	"I know my place!" said a raptor with head in the guillotine.  "We're extinct, it's just basic science!"
	"If we can't evolve, we're not worth anything!" said another nuzzling a gun.  "To live is to suffer, to survive is selfish!"
This propaganda would continue for a good three minutes, showing tall skyscrapers and perfect clean cities of the superior Ailuunians with all of their achievements.  Wondrous feathered creatures in smart suits, beautiful dresses and the peak of evolution as they soared through the skies.
In stark comparison, the Filshun were seen as barbarous rejects, fighting over food, scrabbling over each other and clawing in piot fights as truly verminous creatures.  Once the commercial break was over, Nogard and Kara were escorted out to the backstage proper.
	"Welcome back to Populess!" cried the troodon.  "Mrs. Mavis Dimbleby had a stroke of luck with a firing squad, and there's fifty less rats in the city!  But now we're adding two more to that death toll, because...you love to hear this folks, we have, an actual self-corrector HERE IN THE STUDIO!  AND WE'RE GONNA EXECUTE HER, LIVE, ON TV, TODAY!"
The audience turned rhapsodic, screaming out of their seats and pounding their feets with their arms and feathers raised high in the sky.  Kara stepped out with Nogard, the girl waving in joy with her brother dragging his feet, their sodden pathetic state making them look the worst possible creatures in existence.
	"Welcome, WELCOME!" the host smiled with painted glee.  "It is always wonderful to see more of your kind learn their place, tell me, where are you from?"
	"Ohhh, we're from a rat-infested hole in Vahmuuna District," the sister started, "thank you so much for having me, I can't wait to kill myself!"
	"Hahah, hah, well let's be honest, you should have done that at home and save us the trouble."
	"Welllll I could, but, I wanted everyone to see how worthless we are and hope other subsaurians do the same!"
	"You hear that folks?  That's the truth of our society, our purity reaching the skies as we cleanse the earth of degenerates, as the gods intended.  Now you are brother and sister correct?"
	"Mmhmm!" Kara grabbed her bro in a hug.  "He's a little shy, I wanted to make sure he saw his best favourite sister and wife die before him."
	"His WIFE?!" the troodon gasped with the audience.  "So, you mean to say, you two are in the family way?"
	"Yes sir!  We have five little rats between us, they're watching us now, this is their favourite show ever, just like mommy's!"
	"Hahahah!  Wow, well am I certainly glad you dragged your disgusting future corpse out of the gutter before you spawned any more!"
	"Absolutely sir!" Kara bowed deep.  "I hope all of you love my death, I've wanted to die since I was little and always knew the truth in my heart, that Filshun like us never deserved to be left alive!"
	"Well then, I guess it's time to ask the big question.  How do you want to be cleansed?"
	"OH, OH!" she bounced on her claws.  "I wanna be hung, and skinned alive!  I-i heard some of your friends wanting my skin, so I'd be glad to let you have it!"
	"HAH, wonderful, what a noble subsaurian you are!  And your brother?  Come on, don't be shy, it's only your extinction."
	"Uh...s-something quick," Nogard bowed, "I don't want it to hurt, nothing fancy."
	"Hah, a coward are you?  Well, fair enough then, for the girl's wish we shall SKIN AND HANG HER!"
The background shifted as an expert team of technicians moved equipment behind the scenes, rearranging torture machines as a curtain uplifted to reveal a gruesome device.  A long pole with a single noose, where six terrible arms stretched out like a spider's carcass.  Kara's eyes lit up with stars as she was walked over to the machine.
	"Our Cleansing Team works around the clock," said the troodon, "to provide any and all methods of execution that loyal self-correctors wish."
	"It...OHH, it's beautiful!" she almost wept.  "It's so much more wonderful than I thought it could be."
	"Step right up my subsaurian contestant, let's get you nice and ready for your little maggots to see!"
Climbing up into the device, she felt the noose slip round her throat with hands tied behind her back.  An automatic stand rose up under her feet, lifting her high as the noose became shorter.  The crowd was chanting for her death, just like she always dreamed, the long piercing arms gently hooking into her skin.
	"Our cleansing device this week is sponsored by Slauton!  This dynamic skinning device, the Flesh-Loom Deluxe, offers one-tenth perfect-layer precision, with guaranteed anti-warping features of your new Filshun product!"
The tenterhooks peeled at her skin, finding different points of her body to slowly cut at the dermis.  She felt like a paper doll, the carving slice of a dozen blades snicking through the scales and digging between the muscle and skin.  She had done this herself sometimes just to savour the feeling, but this was another level, this was professional.
Her nerves were singing a hymn together, of pain and fear that she relished all the more, moaning with a gasping squeal as the hooks turned her body into a butcher's chart.  Then they stabbed all at once, puncturing the first layer, and slowly peeling her entire body.
	"A-AAAAH!  AAAAAAAAANNNGH!  OHHH GODS IT HURTS, OHHHH YES!"
	"AND JUST LIKE THAT!" the host clicked his fingers.  "The Flesh-Loom Deluxe doing a perfect run, notice the lack of stretch-tear on her skin?  Just like the finest leather at market!"
	"HA-AAAAAAGH, AAAAAAAIIIIIH!  OHHH!"
Nogard was forced to watch with a guard holding him down, himself having his hands tied behind his back and put on his knees as he struggled to look away.  But her cries of anguish mixed with lust, the camera purposefully avoiding her cunt that dripped profusely in overwhelming pleasure, dripping down with juices as well as the blood from her muscle.
Her chest opened up like a flower, the taut rippling scales pulled apart in six directions to expose her beautiful musculature.  The audience was almost orgasmic, a crescendo drowning out her own screams that was equally shared by those at home watching.  Kara's flesh peeled right round her back, stripping the entirety of her chest until the skin snapped off her shoulderblades and turned her arms inside out like a sticky jacket.
The flesh of the Filshun shone beautifully without its body, glorious emerald reflecting in the stage lights as the machine finished its extrication.  Kara had never suffered such agony in her entire life, and never would again as she whimpered in stuttering cries.  She had already cum in the midst of her exsanguination, drenching the stand that her feet struggled to stay perched on.
Her body was on full display in a rippling network of pink and red, whorls and patterns of twitching muscles that constantly bled a large puddle circling the floor beneath.  Her breasts were like rosy mounds, her lungs heaving with a tightening diaphragm that showed off her ribs to their fullest.
	"An INCREDIBLE display," cackled the host walking over to her, "thanks to our sponsors at Slauton for their magnificent device, and of course, her skin will be up for grabs in our prize draw at the end of the show!  Now my subsaurian friend, do you have a message to any others of your race?"
	"Y-YES!"  She gasped trembling with pained grin.  "A-all of you...kill yourselves.  C-come serve our s-superiors with your death.  The longer you live...h-haaah, the worse it gets.  Nnnngh...sweeties...tm-my babies, if you're watching, you'll all starve without me.  Come see mommy at the hellgate...die like me and your father will.  I won't miss any of you, knowing so many of our s-s-superiors are, AAAGH, h-happier knowing we're...all dead."
The audience applauded her proclamation, several whoops crowing out as the compere smiled trying not to lick his beak, before walking back to her husband.
	"Brother, any last words for us?"
	"N-no," Nogard shut his eyes looking away, "I'm...I-i'm glad to be here for my sis.  I love her, I didn't want her to die alone."
	"How precious.  Even if your degenerate concept of love is tainted thinking your sister is your wife, your words are charming all the same.  Now, you said you wanted to die nothing fancy, nice and quick?"
	"Y-y-yeah?"
The guard grabbed the raptor's head and pulled it back, the host suddenly pulling out a knife to slit Nogard's throat without hesitation.  The brother shuddered with a twitching cough, eyes bulging in fright from the sharp sudden pain as blood coursed down his front.  Suffocating blood filled his lungs, the guard kicking him forwards to let him die in wheezing gasps.
The camera didn't even look at him, the host not even commenting as the audience simply laughed at such a feeble execution, for a feeble Filshun.  Walking back over to Kara, the troodon's grin widening at her agony, he pocketed his knife and turned to the camera.
	"Well our time is almost up for this week."
	"AWWWWW."
	"I know, I know, it's always sad when we have to stop cleansing for the day, but you all know it's hard work!  Even for self-correctors like this degenerate here.  So let's finish things off, with the death, of another worthless Filshun, thank you all for joining!  See you next time, for POP, YOU, LESS!"
He pulled a lever on the machine as the stand suddenly dropped, leaving Kara to hang herself in mid-air with kicking feet in reflex panic.  Trembling screams filled her throat with a raspy shriek, her lungs heaving harder in a beautiful display of eager death.  The camera kept focused on her suffocating face and skinned torso, but the host was side-eyeing her crotch with a tightening in his pants.
The audience gave one last hurrah as the credits played, the broadcast showing production names over Kara's swinging body.  Everyone enjoyed the sight of her screaming face, eyes rolling back with bloodshot veins and a purpling collar round her neck.  Her legs started to falter, her kicks turning weak as her head fell forwards with her final gasp.
A smile remained on her face, her blood and jizz dripping down just before the credits ended.  The lights would shut off, the audience was corralled out of the studio and millions of viewers enjoyed yet another subsaurian's death in the world.  Once all the crowd had left, and the cameras turned off, the troodon unzipped his pants.
	"Finally," he snarled, "alright boys, who wants to help me rape this bitch?!"
	"ME BOSS!" a camerabeast raised his feathererd arm.  "I want that fucking ass!"
	"I'm having him," the deinonychus guard gripped Nogard's head, "fucking shitscale been mouthing off all day."
	"HEY DIANE!" the host called to the backstage.  "YOU WANT IN!?"
	"OH gods do I!" the dineobellator stepped out.  "I would love that little whore's snout in my cunt, thank you!"
	"Alright lower her down!"
With help, the machine lowered its noose, letting the dying Kara's corpse slump on the floor in her own juices.  Turning her onto her back, the troodon grabbed her legs as the noose twisted tighter round her neck, shoving his cock into her cunt whilst Diane grabbed the bitch's head to shove in her own.
	"MMMMPH!  Ohhhh!  Haaaaa...what a good fit!"
	"So's my dick in her hole," the compere gasped, "mmmph, fucking feathershedding whore knew what was good for her."
	"Gods yes...mmmph...would've been lovely if she killed herself for everyone to see, I wish her last breath had filled my cunt."
Spitroasting Kara's body, her legs and scalp still shining green compared to her pink-flesh torso, the troodon and dineobellator savoured her corpse.  Her brain was flickering out, gentle lights of consciousness dying out one by one, the faintest comprehension knowing that she was being raped in her death.  Her last thoughts were happy, serving her masters still.
Her pussy clenched round the host who savagely pounded her womb, grunting at her death spasms pleasuring him all the more as with every slap of his hips, he pushed Kara's snout into Diane.  The agent panted with higher pleasure, gripping Kara's snout to rub her fingers along that beautiful throat, so beautifully stained with a purple ring.
The deinonychus was busy with Nogard, grabbing the slitted throat and shoving his cock through the wound with such force it cracked the brother's head back, forced to accommodate his oppressor's shaft.  A camerabeast walked over to use his ass, stretching the ring with such force that it started bleeding round his length.
	"MMMMPH!  Haaaah, f-fucking whore, bet he never felt a cock this good."
	"He never will," chuckled the guard, "ohhhh fuck this throat's a perfect cocksucker."
	"You said that about the last Filshun."
	"Well, they're all good for raping right?"
	"Hahaha, hell yeah bro!"
Pumping away in the dead brother-husband, the guard and technician panted together in righteous lust, the wet slapping of a bloody throat and anal pucker like music to their ears.  As brother and sister were ravaged in death, the rest of the crew either watched in praise, or openly jerked off in agreement.
Some of them even picked up the severed heads from the plinko machine, and fucked the featherless maws in righteous bliss, with one being left aside for Mavis to have.  The stage was an orgy of genocidal bliss, skulls and corpses fucked with increasing vigour.
It didn't take long for any of them to cum, a gushing swell of hot superior seed filling up throats, holes and organs that were awash in Ailuunian jizz.  Gasps of adoration and climax filled the room, gushing puddles of white that mixed with luscious degenerate blood.
Kara's face turned glossy with femcum, her dead cold womb trickling out the troodon's seed as plentiful as the deinonychus overflowing Nogard's throat, his seed spilling out the mouth and neckwound like the cum from his ravaged ass.  All of the participants took a moment to sit, lighting up or catching their breath with cocks and pussy dripping with strands of cum to their playthings.
	"Fuck I love raping Filshuns," the host took a drag of his cig, "Hope her kids come in to die, we know where she's from?"
	"I think she mentioned the district," said Diane sitting back, "we can find out while we're rounding up the next herd."
	"Good.  Well then!"  The compere stood up stretching his feathered limbs.  "I'll be in my room, make sure you leave one head for Mrs. Dimbleby alright?!"
	"Yes sir!"

In a dark wretched hovel, somewhere in the Vahmuuna District, a clutch of six sickly children huddled together eating scraps their mother left for them.  They lived under an apartment block, high metal walls backing one side of their home that was a filthy open space on steel beams where trash blew in.  The roaring stench of traffic cars smogged their lungs as the sounds of their superiors walked through rooms above their heads.  Their only food came through the cracks, or whatever was thrown out in the trash.
Their only source for amusement was a perfect view of the giant TV from across the street, which always showed Populess at the same time every week.  All of them had watched their mother and father-uncle be executed live, a few of them shocked but at least two of them having ideas in honour of her.  Her final plea struck something deep in the eldest child, a daughter in her teens as she gently crept out towards the nearest pay phone.
	"Um, h-hello?" the naked green raptor asked.  "Is this the ETR network?  I wanted to ask, um, that Filshun who got killed, the green lady?  That was my mom...c-can we be on the show next?  Really?  OH, thank you sir, y-yes, um, there's six of us, I'll tell you where we are!  You can come pick us up anytime."
Her heart was thumping like a hammer down a well, slumping against the side of the phonebox with a heaving gasp and a sickly warmth in her stomach.  Excitement, fear and panic all boiled around inside her mind just like her mother felt when she made the call.  She hurried back to her siblings, waiting for the day they would join their worthless parents.