Agent Hank Spittoon and the other members of the Bureau of Creature Affairs: Creature Interception Squadron rode in their armored van, bracing themselves as it took turns at full speed. All were fully armored in tactical plating with kevlar mesh, heavy helmets that concealed their identities, and they carried fully loaded automatic rifles.

"At least a dozen dead so far!" Agent Spittoon screamed to be heard over the shrieking tires. "Intel says at least two babies have been mashed flat, one woman's got no legs, and some poor son of a bitch is going to be emptying a bag of feces into a garbage can instead of enjoying a relaxing shit! That's called a colostomy bag, people! Those are lives ruined because of one rogue Creature! I want this thing alive, bagged, and in the van before it even knows we're on its ass! Do you understand!?"

"SIR YES SIR!!!" came the response.

The van swerved around a corner and screeched to a halt, and Agent Spittoon leaned against the rear door and nearly fell on top of his rifle. As the van stopped he instinctively grabbed the door handle, and somehow remained upright as the door swung him out onto the pavement. He hoped to God that his near-fall hadn't been noticed by anyone.

The Interception Squad raced out of the van, rifles clanking against heavy armor. They found themselves in an old train yard in the mostly-abandoned industrial sector. One agent with a tracking device took the lead while the others spread out, rifles extended.

"Sir!" said their tech expert. "Picking up remote security footage. Target identified!"

"Play it!" said Spittoon, even as the video feed showed up on their helmets' heads-up display. They saw grainy footage of a squat, fat green Creature attempting to climb a barbed wire fence. The fence was already partially down, and wobbled under the weight of the Creature. The ferocious monster swung back and forth, then hit the ground, crying out as she flailed her limbs.

"That's the fence, over there," said another agent. "We must be close."

"Contact!" someone cried. "Target in the tall grass over there. By the tree!"

"Got it!" Spittoon shouted. "Go! Go! Go!"

As the team raced ahead, Buddy spotted the Creature. It raised its bulbous head and blinked, looking as if it had been taking a nap. It barked and turned around, then waddled away. Buddy knew he would have to do something, otherwise the heavily armed team would simply push the thing over on its side and call it a day. Though he pretended to be a green rookie, he'd had his Creature removed long ago. As he put his finger on the trigger of his rifle and prepared to betray his commander, he felt absolutely no nervousness, nor even any sort of tension at all.

He fired - and struck the grass a few feet away.

"Shots fired!" someone shouted. "Shots fired, shots fired!"

Overcome by nerves, one agent jumped, then tripped and fell. His teammate next to him cried, "Man down! Man down!"

Buddy couldn't keep track of what happened next. Several men began firing on the Creature, then someone pointed at some trees and shouted something about hostiles. Everyone fired in all directions. A man grabbed his own leg and fired in the air as he fell, a victim of friendly fire, and when an agent went for his comm-line to call for an airstrike, Agent Spittoon knocked the comm out of his hand.

"Target is down!" an agent cried, standing over the dead Creature. "Target is down!"

Buddy played the "rookie in too deep" card and fell to his knees, pretending he was about to puke so that no one could see him smile at how easily the secret operation had been pulled off.

Agent Spittoon ran up to the Creature and got a look at its face. It was hard to believe the pudgy little female had been declared rogue. She was cute, with puffy cheeks, a little nose shaped like a gumdrop, and big round eyes that seemed surprised at how cruel the last few moments of her life had been.