Shurara looked down at the Nyororo on the floor. Oftentimes, Putata would detach it from his brush and put it outside of his room. Shurara came to realize that he did this to shield the animal's innocent eyes whenever he and Mekeke would have a romantic liaison. He learned this the hard way when, after discovering a bit of graffiti on the wall, he angrily barged into Putata's room to discover either end of his brush lodged inside of his and Mekeke's rectums.

At the same time, however, this served as a sort of signal to show others where exactly the two were at that point in time. And as it were, Shurara had an idea earlier that he wanted Mekeke's help with. So, he stood outside of Putata's chamber and waited until the seemingly endless stream of "yeah yeah yeah"s petered out before knocking. "Mekeke! When you and Poontang-ta are finished cleaning up, come see me. I need to talk to you," Shurara yelled through the door. "U-uhm, yes sir," came Mekeke's muffled reply, while Putata was doing his signature laugh/resonance combo.

A few minutes later, Mekeke's body double came sauntering upside-down into Shurara's office. The avocado-green Keronian was, as often was the case, hidden against the ceiling. "You wanted to see me, sir?" came Mekeke's voice from above. "Ughhhhhhhh. Why, exactly, do you bring that thing around everywhere? It skeeves me out!" Shurara complained.

"My apologies, sir," Mekeke said, leaping and subsequently falling to the floor, before adeptly maneuvering the marionette down the hall and into his own quarters. "That's better," Shurara sighed. He was visibly far less on edge. "Okay, so," he began, "it's rather obvious that you're quite skilled with mariobrothers."

"Uh, sir, they're called marione-"

"I couldn't give less of a damn what they're called if I tried. All I know is, you're good with those puppets."

"Well, if you wanna be so blunt about it, then yes."

"Alright then, I have something to ask of you." Shurara's voice faltered, and he hesitated a bit before speaking the next sentence. He managed to somehow look deep in thought by rifling through a set of papers, scrapped plans to capture the Keron Star that were never carried out. "What I want you to do," he cleared his throat, "is make me a love doll of Medic Pururu."

Mekeke stood there speechless and unblinking. Or perhaps, "unwinking" would be the better term, as he was one of the many members of the Corps with only one eye. They often joked that Gyororo had stolen their other eyes during the night. But at this point, the only thing that had been stolen was Mekeke's ability to critically think, siphoned away by Shurara's bizarre demand. "What?"

"You know exactly what I said." Despite his confidence in that fact, he restated his prior sentence. "I want you to build a love doll of Pururu." Mekeke did not even flinch. The shock and confusion were too great to even let him react. "S-sir..."

"Yes, soldier?"

"By 'love doll', you mean for sex, right?"

"Precisely," Shurara scoffed. "Is that so wrong for me to want?" Shurara dared, knowing that he wouldn't receive a negative answer to the rhetorical question. Mekeke would be a hypocrite if he did, judging by how often he and Putata met up for sex. Shurara's mind raced with all sorts of jokes he could make on the duo's title of "overzealous killers", but he decided not to open his mouth any further.

"Shurara, you know my medium is wood, right?"

"Is that a problem?"

"I'm the one asking you that!"

"I don't see a problem on my end. So long as it has the necessary holes, it should be fine."

Mekeke stood, not moving, before sighing and looking down. "Fine, I'll do it," he stated, defeated by Shurara's ignorance, and then reached into the hood he wore and pulled a French curve out from under it. One of its ear flaps went limp. He turned away, closed the door behind him, and went back to his workshop to begin.

A few days later, Shurara had to be rushed to the closest intergalactic infirmary to treat a series of splinters on his genitalia.