I squinted at the discolored reading pad I’d borrowed from the archives. The material was as dry as the title—“Taxonomy of Extinct Terrestrial Tribes”—but these ancient practices had long fascinated me.

Take “games,” for example. They were played by adults and children alike, without shame—even in public! I had once scoffed at the idea that beings of my genetic lineage could have embraced such vice. But now I knew the truth was more complex. Terrestrial society wasn’t corrupt so much as uncultivated. Without access to modern libidinal voucher programs, decadence ruled.

I picked up reading where I’d left off:

Perhaps the most misunderstood of lechery laborers were the creators of games, known as “developers.” They were simple folk subjected to ghastly, repetitive work.

Ungroomed and clothed in rags, developers were assigned to pens hidden within ordinary offices. These firms called themselves “studios” to draw an association with popular art and entertainment of the era. Often they even occupied the same buildings as respectable enterprises like law firms and agribusiness consultancies.

Working long before sustenance powders, developers were easily seduced by appeals to their physical urges. Overseers plied them with sugars and salts during the day and forced them to engorge on extravagant meals at night. Shifts extended for days at a time. Developers were even required to worship in their cells, which were adorned with plush and vinyl totems of figures from terrestrial myths of the era.