The Mating Habits of the Earthbound Human

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Of all the creatures in the universe....

none possess the mating ritual as complex, as perverse...

as tragically beautiful as the earthbound human.

More passionate than the Orktamus of Centali Five...

more neurotic than the Sleekanda of Sleewa...

it is a wonder that these furry creatures...

have not gone extinct millennia ago.

But in spite of their self-inflicted paradox...

their numbers grow at a rapid pace...

over-consuming their tiny planet.

It is from these creatures that we have acquired the universal expression...

"fuck like people. "

The young male begins his sojourn along with others of his pack.

Their bellies are full from a hearty meal of plant and roasted animal flesh.

The male hides his nervousness from the rest of the pack.

He has tried this a great many times before with limited success.

His cerebral cortex pounds with anxiety...

his loins, with hyperactive semen.

The male gives the Great Warrior sheaths of thin, green tree bark...

hoping that the color will satisfy the Great Warrior...

and he will allow the male to enter.

The Great Warrior is pleased.

He places a symbol of ink upon the male's hand--

proof to the world that the male is ready to mate.

His new surroundings are pleasing to him, familiar.

He has been to sacred meeting grounds such as this before.

He makes his way to the long, elevated surface...

where he will consume small amounts of fermented grain...

in the hopes that it will make him more appealing to a potential mate.

In fact, it has the opposite effect.

The fermented grain makes all females more appealing to him.

Well, almost all.

This one, he feels, lacks the correct genetic stock for motherhood.

This one would make a better father than mother.

The male would be redundant.

This one is clearly reserved for wealthy tribal chieftains.

To prepare for mating, she sways her hips and flails her behind...

in an attempt to dislodge her egg from her uterus.

The male exhales sadly. He knows his place in the pack.

The female feels the male's gaze upon her...

and marks him as a potential father of her future cubs.

Her ovulation complete...

the female ceases her gyrations and returns to her pack.

It is the male's opportunity.

Like all creatures of the universe...

the male and female begin by examining each other.

Tentatively...

carefully...

not willing to reveal too much...

or commit too far.

The female bares her teeth to show she wants to mate with him.

The male mimics this gesture...

to show that he, too, would like to mate right now.

Encouraged, the male attempts the next step.

It is a long walk for him.

He must make the perfect greeting if he wishes to be fruitful.

If you're not a professional dancer, you should be.

What?

If you're not a professional dancer, you should be!

What?

- I think you're a great dancer! - What?

But his introduction was flawed.

There will be no fruit for the male this evening.

The female, for her part...

uses her time in the sacred meeting ground...

fending off the advances of all but the right males.

- This one lacks intellect. - Bye.

This one lacks a warrior's spirit.

He would be devoured on the first hunt, she feels...

Leaving her to raise her cubs by herself.

Nice meeting you. Bye.

- You're very sweet. Thanks. Bye. - This one just smells funny.

But like the childhood story of Goldilocks and the three--

- Hey. Remember me? - this one is just right.

Look, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say you're a good dancer.

I wasn't being crude. I'm just a bad mime.

A guy apologizing.

Now that's the way to start a relationship.

Jenny Smith.

The male and female rub their paws together.

The female studies the male...

as he, in turn, studies her.

- Channel. - Shampoo.

Well, it's nice. It suits you.

- Brut. - Channel.

Do you often wear women's perfume?

Yeah. It's my way of showing how I understand women.

I'm going for that sensitive, '80s-guy kind of thing.

- Does it work? - No. Not since the '80s.

But, oh, man, in kindergarten I was hot stuff.

The female exhales rapidly...

to show that her lungs are strong and she can bear many children.

The male exhales rapidly as well...

to show that he has endurance and can impregnate her many times over.

She lets him know that she is pleased...

for that is what she is looking for in a mate.

He is pleased because all his blood has rushed to his loins...

- and he doesn't know any better. - Look, I want to keep talking to you...

but I, you know, I was on my way to use the facilities.

All right. Have a nice life.

Wait. I'm just going to the bathroom.

Yeah, right. Like I haven't used that one a gazillion times.

Come on. You think that I'm blowing you off? Are you nuts?

That's a really nice way of putting it, but still--

Okay, I'll tell you what. I'll hold it in.

- Really? -Yeah.

That's so sweet.

- You're screwing with me, right? - Yeah.

Okay.

The female is pleased.

The young male has great potential for fatherhood, she feels.

He'll provide well for her cubs...

and stick around long after she is fat and bloated.

She consumes fermented grain to celebrate her good fortune.

- See? I came back. - Groovy. Let's dance.

Oh. I don't know if that's such a good idea.

- You don't dance? - No, I do, but like a white guy.

I don't know if you're impressed enough with me yet.

Risk it.

Okay. Just remember I would've held it in for you.

And so the male and female see their way through the intricate dance...

of the mating ritual.

Both sides must play their roles perfectly...

confronting an infinite barrage of obstacles...

necessitating the involvement of countless other humans...

in order for the species to reproduce.

We don't know if they will succeed.

And if they don't, we will film another couple who does.

- Hey, you want to get some coffee? - I have to get up early tomorrow.

- Sorry. -Jenny! There you are.

- We've been looking for you. - Guys, this is Billy.

Billy, these are my two best friends, Lydia and Lana.

- Hi. - Lydia? Hi. Lana, right?

- It's the other way around. - I meant it the other way around.

The female shows the male to her pack...

but the male is not interested in the female's pack.

He wants to be with the female alone.

There is still something he must get from her--

something without which the mating ritual will come to an end.

Panic sets in.

It is difficult to achieve with the female's pack present...

but he must ask for it in order for the species to go on.

Can I get your number?

I was wondering when you were gonna ask.

- He's cute. - Yeah, he is cute.

Shut up. Turn around.

The female scratches numerical symbols onto a white sheath of tree bark..

hoping the design will please the male.

- Great. - The male is pleased by the design.

To him, it is the prettiest of all pictures.

I'll call you in--

- I n a while? - Yeah. I'll call you in a while.

Great. Yeah, I'll call you in a while.

In a while.

Sorry.

Tell you what. Hmm?

- Bye. - Bye.

- Bye. Nice meeting you. - Yeah. You too. So long.

The male is happy with his new mate.

It has been a goodnight at the sacred meeting ground.

The humans of this hemisphere of the planet...

spend most of their time at play, in tall, steel huts of their own making.

The male busies himself with numerical symbols...

and electronically enhanced intelligence to create a picture...

pleasing to those superior to him in the pack.

This game he calls "accounting. "

He plays with a toy named after one of the small rodents of his planet.

He presses his fingers against the rodent's buttocks...

and gently taps upon its cheeks.

Still, he prefers the female of his own species.

The male is not pleased with his picture.

He finds the female's picture much prettier.

He wants to know how she can make such a pretty picture.

Hi. This is Bill Waterson.

Oh, yes, Mr. Greenwood.

Well, we'd love to help you, but...

gosh, I tell you, we're really booked solid.

Let me see if there's any openings here.

Boy, we're just-- we're just swamped here.

Oh! Here's a cancellation at--

How's Thursday at 3:00?

Or now. Yeah. We could do now.

Now is fine. Yeah, great. We'll see you.

- We got a client? - Looks that way.

- Torrance referred us. - Torrance is a deadbeat.

Yeah, but he's our deadbeat. We got three clients.

- I think we ought to embrace him. - All right.

- What are you doing? - Nothing.

- You're going to call her, aren't you? - No.

- Tell the truth. - Okay. You're developing...

a serious body odor problem, but I don't think that's relevant.

You just met her last night. If you call her now, you'll scare her off.

- Come on. I don't play those games. - Don't do it, man.

- She'll think you want her. - I do want her.

I know, but if she thinks that, she'll find somebody else.

Someone who doesn't want her?