Rise of the British Slitheen (Child Slitheen Spin-off)

by Slitheeno

The following story is intended to function as a biting satire of contemporary 21st century British politics, society and morality. Lots of sexual content in this one so read at your own discretion. Enjoy!

Rise of the British Slitheen (Child Slitheen Spin-off) PART ONE

(Note: The following story is intended to function as a biting satire of contemporary 21st century British politics, society and morality. Lots of sexual content in this one so read at your own discretion.).

(The Premise)

For many decades, the British Slitheen had successfully managed to infiltrate all sectors of British society and life. Where there were humans there were also Slitheen. As part of 'Stage Three' instituted by the now deceased head Fareeda Sultana, the British Slitheen were due to take over Britain and soon after that the entire globe. As part of the family plan, millions of British humans were converted forcibly into Slitheen. The conversions were so successful that not a single convert on record desired to go back to being a miserable, weak and pathetic human living out a bland existence with other low lifeforms. Being a Slitheen represented the good life.

The converts then went on to marry each other and produce copious amounts of children on their own. By this point, the British Slitheen stopped bothering to convert other humans and trusted their own virility and fertility to compensate adequately. With a large and ever-growing population, the Slitheen inserted themselves in British society and participated in all facets of life inside the human skins of their victims. They lived exclusively within their own communities; setting up their own shops, stores, factories, school, places of worship and other businesses to meet the supply and demands of the exponentially growing family. Often, they still managed to maintain relations and friendship with their fellow humans. But the overall result was a split society in Britain between the Slitheen and their human counterparts based on invisible apartheid lines. The family heads that ran the hierarchy directing every single British Slitheen collectively decided to shockingly reveal Slitheen existence in Britain at some point. They had run governments in the past but for this plan to work, they temporarily abdicated the ruling government in a strategic move for reasons that will become apparent.

The Slitheen revelations created a significant divide across British society amongst the humans. Those leaning towards the Far-Right condemned the British Slitheen. Mainly compromising the majority white segment of the human British population, they viewed the British Slitheen almost-exclusively as uncivilised murderers coldly wearing the skins of their fellow humans. In their perspective, the Slitheen were predatory brutes who represented a constant threat to human existence at every moment as long as they stayed unopposed on these isles. They rejected the British Slitheen totally, insisting that they could not be British nor could they ever be. Those aligned to this faction could not tolerate nor accommodate the Slitheen. No sympathy or empathy. They were no different to migrants and refugees swamping these tiny, cramped isles, consuming rapidly the available livestock and supplies that were meant for humans exclusively. The Slitheen were uncouth, horny animals who did not know when to stop copulating. Their high child birth rates threatened to overwhelm the NHS and British society.

The Slitheen had to be controlled, subjugated even, to appease the demands of the Far-Right whose unabashed racism and xenophobia deluded them into arrogantly believing that they were the sole owners of who is a Brit and what Britishness was. Slitheen presence had to be monitored - they were untrustworthy creatures that needed to be disciplined. Advocates even demanded for detention centres to be set up and, rather comically, for the determination of the British Slitheen's place of origin. If the worst option of allowing the Slitheen to stay in Britain became realised, other supporters of the Far-Right pushed for a full-purposed immigration system designed to restrict Slitheen movement and prosperity. The members of the Far-Right simply needed a Britain in which they felt that they could control everything and everyone in order to make themselves feel good and to mask their racial anxieties that were being projected onto the British Slitheen.

These dark-skinned green aliens had to be removed from Britain and elsewhere on Earth. By any means necessary so went this line of argumentation. Ordinarily talentless, opportunist leaders from elitist backgrounds in Britain began to appear, promoting wild conspiracies in the media and society at large that the liberal elite intended to weaponise the Slitheen presence and replace the human population for their own gain, these same speakers all the while making immense amounts of profits collected from the generous donations poured into their platforms provided by either gullible supporters or die-hard fascists who wanted an all out war with the British Slitheen to determine the fate of the country. Hatred and division fuelled business - any smart human or Slitheen knew that. It was important to keep society divided at all times to keep the cash flows going.

On the other hand, many elements from those leaning towards the Left were more broadminded about the British Slitheen. Because of their commitments to law and upholding the rights of others, many leftist British humans advocated the legal and ethical rights of the Slitheen. After all, they were all practically converts -former British humans - retaining their Britishness inside their Slitheen-ness. Sure, the anti-Slitheen faction were correct to point out that the Slitheen family had mercilessly killed countless humans and wore their skins. But the pro-Slitheen faction countered; stating the Slitheen case that hunting, killing and wearing the skins of their victims was natural for them. It could never truly be inhibited no matter how many restrictions the human would try to impose on them. They had to pose in their disguises otherwise they would have been discovered, hunted down and most likely killed on the spot. That is why the Slitheen delayed revealing themselves all this time. Like the Far-Right, the Left persisted in their own delusions. They believed that every Slitheen deep down was inherently good. Even if they were hunting humans on occasions, they could be 'reformed' so went the Leftist argumentations. Exactly what position were British humans in to lecture the Slitheen: White Britain had one ruled over a quarter of the globe and built an empire on the backs of enslaved and colonised inferior-marked non-Whites to selfishly get ahead of everyone else. Successive British governments - Conservative, Labour and otherwise - failed to even simply apologise and refused to entertain any notion of paying back reparations to those oppressed and still suffering the legacies of imperial colonial rule.

Besides, had not the Slitheen running UNIT prevented countless alien invasions? Surely they were as patriotic and lovers of Britain like any British human was? So ran the argument. The Left wanted to enshrine the equal rights of the Slitheen family firmly into British Law and British 'values', whatever that meant. The current leader in the Labour-led opposition, Jeremy Saxon, was a firm if not deluded believer in coexistence with the British Slitheen. He even boasted of having discovered his rather obese wife to be a Slitheen but nonetheless still committed himself to her skin if not the Slitheen murderer inside of it. The British Slitheen saw an opportunity to use him as a puppet for their own plans. Naturally, the family hierarchy instructed the Slitheen to support the Left, whom most humans in Britain ostensibly adhered to, in all causes. That would nullify the argumentations of the Far-Right and leave Britain overall at the mercy of unimpeded Slitheen supremacy. Divide and conquer was a universal rule anywhere in the universe.

Of course, many on the Left did not really care about the Slitheen cause; some wanted to shack up with a large, green creature and experiment their own deviance with them. It was not technically illegal to do some stuff with an 'alien', after all. Some of the liberals who arrogantly believed themselves to be the smartest even dared to dream of dominating the Slitheen alongside other categories of humans in Britain. Hypocrisy was rife across all spectrums. Being a Leftist or positioning oneself on the Far-Right did not necessarily mean adhering to a fixed, consistent line viz. the Slitheen, who likewise also chose to have 'fun' with their human counterparts whenever they felt like doing so.

Either way, the revelation that there were millions of Slitheen living in Britain for years and could potentially be posing as anyone led to serious ramifications. Their very presence disrupted what it truly meant to be British and who could be British. In a series of negotiated agreements, the family heads agreed to cap the number of British humans they hunted down and skinned annually in return for a wholesale ban on all acidic substances in the country that threatened their very survival (Of course, the Slitheen family never really adhered to their side of the agreement, regularly hunting down humans whenever they felt like it. The inept human British authorities knew about this dishonourable behaviour but deliberately chose to ignore it, accepting hush-money bribes from the Slitheen with gusto.). Meanwhile, there were rumoured discussions of a proposed referendum on the British Slitheen's right to exist in Britain although both the family heads and British politicians deceitfully lied to their families and to the public that such a proposition was going to happen. For the Far-Right, it confirmed many suspicions that the British Slitheen were going to take over their lives and properties one way or another.

The clever British Slitheen knew what they were doing; they deliberately perpetrated the confusion in order to secure their power firmly; creating a novel pro-/anti- Slitheen binary dialectic that now marked every facet of Britain. You were either with the Slitheen or against them. The British Slitheen wanted to make every human (that they allowed to live under their rule) to become pro-Slitheen in the end. The family did not want to make British humans extinct. On the contrary, they needed (some) British humans so that Slitheen Supremacy could be established and maintained at all times. Some humans would be co-opted into supporting the family business. Allowed to live and spared a sharp razor claw to their foreheads, these collaborators would be rewarded with certain positions of authority over their human peers (but never over a single Slitheen) to keep potential resistance in check. Gaining formal power in a legitimate manner via the elections and human consent would be the first necessary, crucial step in normalising British Slitheen dominance. Their eventual rule was to appear 'sweet' to the surviving humans. So much so that they would never ever imagine living under any other regime of domination. By obtaining democratic from all parties, Slitheen and non-Slitheen, the family hierarchy could justify Slitheen domination rationally and without ever having to hesitate in expanding and maintaining, however they saw fit to do that.

After decades of loyal service to UNIT, Eleanor and Tariq Slitheen decided to leave the organisation and move formally into politics at this polarised moment. Their marriage had managed to hold over the years, despite their furious argumentations and petty fights between each other but they loved each other dearly, never going on a scheduled hunt without the other besides them. A horny couple, they managed to bring a British Child Slitheen into the family - Zohra Ulu-Daxt British Slitheen. Firmly settled into British society, Eleanor and Tariq Slitheen relished raising a family and entering an exciting new phase in their lives.

The General Elections were shortly due to occur. In preparation, the British Slitheen had slowly over the last few weeks been targeting and acquiring the skins of many British human politicians. If not that, they had quietly been removing those perceived as too dangerous or potentially disruptive to the family planning. By controlling the personnel and society at large, the Slitheen intended to enable a new Leftist Labour government to displace the current ruling Conservative administration, who had so far refused to acknowledge the British Slitheen and had no plans to do so. A Leftist Labour government with a potential majority, however, would happily accept the British Slitheen once and for all. The family heads decided that Labour had to win the upcoming elections at all costs, and they were willing to support the campaign, even using rather 'unsavoury' methods to achieve political goals…

(Somewhere in the South of England)

At their large family home, Eleanor and Tariq Slitheen in their naked forms were examining intelligence footage on some computer screen monitors showcasing prominent human politicians. The family had tasked the former UNIT generals to enter British party politics in a very specific way. Their child Zohra was also beside them, trying to look at the screen monitors attentively and participate in the intelligence gathering operation.

"Her. I need her body by the end of the infiltration." said Eleanor, pointing her claws out to a very specific British human female on the screen, as if she was browsing a catalogue for an item. It was MP Jodie Whittaker. A rather tall, fat-yet-curvaceous brunette always dressed in a smart black suit, Conservative MP Whittaker had won her seat successfully in the last election. She had served in the current government as advisor on immigration and integration issues with the Home Office. Via their screen, the Slitheen were monitoring every facet of her life; where she lived, her routine, her contacts - very little remained hidden from their view. Eleanor had now designated MP Whittaker as her next victim and skin. It meant that the human's existence as a living being was now officially limited by days at most.

"Daddy, when can I start hunting?" asked Zohra randomly, disrupting the concentration of her parents regarding their important mission.

"Soon, my child." replied Tariq Slitheen tersely, hoping futilely that that would shut her up for a while at least.

"I want a hunt now! All my cousins managed their first kill at thirteen. I am now fifteen and they all mock me at school!" bewailed the Child Slitheen. She was very upset at being bullied for failing to live up to her Slitheen nature. Peer pressure helped to cultivate the Slitheen's behaviour from a young age.

"Zohra, I am aware that every Child of the Slitheen wants to hunt once puberty kicks in and your hormones are raging. But a Slitheen hunt is something special, never to be rushed. Your time will arrive in due course...Right, where were we my dear...oh so you definitely want to be inhabiting this particular MP then?" Tariq asked his wife for confirmation.

"Absolutely. But first I will be wearing Miss Gopal." Tariq promptly made the screen show a fat, curvy British Indian woman who always seemed to be wearing tight dress outfits designed to show off her body to her fellow humans liberally. She seemed very close to MP Whittaker. Eleanor began elaborating her designs further.

"She is big enough for me. Her curves - oh they just make me drool even though I am a Slitheen! I need to be wearing a human suit but I also like maintaining my sense of fashion. Just look at that bum! Oh, simply magnificent! They're all the rave nowadays amongst humans. I too lust to possess that." declared Eleanor unabashedly.

She prided herself on being a dominant woman, previously as a human and now as a Slitheen. Whatever she wanted, she usually got. The spectre of violence made it even more appealing to her. Eleanor also found Whittaker's body size and mass very appealing. The females of the British Slitheen saw their human skins not only as mere disguises but also fashion. They competed with one another to wear the fattest and most stylish humans whenever possible. Some markets and shopping stores in Slitheen-majority districts across the country even sold human skins of all varieties to affluent Slitheen. That was fully consistent with Slitheen business logics - everything and everyone that they came into contact with were potential commodities to be sold and bartered away. British humans were no exception to that rule. By wearing and showing-off that particular MP, Eleanor would be able to continue taking part in high-Slitheen society, a place where she felt entitled to stay.

"But aren't they anti-Slitheen? They hate our kind with venom. They want us off this rock, even advocating a Final Solution." asked Tariq to his wife inquisitively. He was always the one at family meetings and planning operations to raise a cautious voice, wary of how to proceed. Eleanor appreciated this element that her husband generally brought to the table.

"Vile racist bitch!" bellowed Zohra as she listened ever attentively to her Daddy. Eleanor began to explain her rationale to the duo.

"That is why I will eventually be wearing her once I am done with Miss Gopal. MP Whittaker has immense popularity and influence over the Far-right. By posing as her, I will be able to infiltrate all of her networks, providing the family with a large hit list of targets. That way, our hunts will be very productive to the family business as much as they will eliminate any opposition to our family presence on this rock."

"Marvellous." remarked Tariq at his wife's intelligence. It complimented the operation planning quite well. "But is Miss Gopal not a member of the Far-Right too? Her anti-Slitheen proclamations have been just as bad if not worse than Mrs Whittaker. Posing as her might be more beneficial, ey?" remarked Tariq with some dissatisfaction. A Far-Right member and likewise opponent of the Slitheen in Britain, she was supposed to be succeeding MP Whittaker within days of her proposed resignation. The British Slitheen, however, had other ideas.

Eleanor did not appear to approve of that particular trajectory.

"Simple. We will take her out of the equation. I will deal with her myself. Her exotic brown skin will fetch thousands on the market to the right buyer." Eleanor announced casually. She did not see Primya Gopal as a living being worthy of remaining alive. Rather, her body was just waiting to be commodified. "Many of our uncles and aunties currently residing in the Persian Gulf would only be too happy to possess a luxury item like this."

"But why Whittaker and not Gopal? The latter's large skin would suit you better, no?" Tariq debated.

"I am glad that you have pointed it out. Perhaps it is because of our egalitarian Slitheen nature and socialisation that we often forget what petty classifications divide these humans even though we were them ourselves once upon a time. The difference between MP Whittaker and Miss Gopal is a rather miniscule matter to us but for British humans, it matters greatly. The former is white, the latter is classed as 'brown' by the dominant white British human strata that think they rule Britain. Of course, not all whites are racists. Most are decent human beings who genuinely want to solve the 'race' problem but they all live within a structure that they created themselves for their own material gain. Whether they signed up to it or not, all remain beneficiaries in some way or another. It remains a tall order to undo Racism - that is if they want to remove it. The racist divisions, however, allow us to exploit humans much more easily. Perhaps it might be for the best that the British Slitheen do everything to keep it in place amongst them. But I digress.

If I choose to inhabit Miss Gopal long term, I am afraid that my opportunities to further infiltrate the Far-Right will become rather limited if not indeed fully blocked off. At the moment, the vast majority of white humans that numerically make up the Far-Right tolerate brown Miss Gopal as long as she is away from power positions and continues to toe the line set out to her and for her by her white British human peers. She is not allowed to express her own independent agenda and she knows that deep down. That is despite the fact that Miss Gopal was born in this country, spent her entire life here and has been socialised firmly into a British citizen and human, just like any other white Brit. The racist system currently in place is designed to ensure that those like Miss Gopal, that is, the non-whites, remain under the domination of the White Racists.

Once they have used and abused her for their nefarious purposes, Miss Gopal will be thrown out without question and another non-white will be selected to fill her shoes. And so the unjust racist cycle repeats. Being white in this racialised British human society gets you far. Very far. That is why most family members prefer to pose in white suits in this country, to better access all the privileges and power that comes with it. Thus it remains necessary that we prevent MP Whittaker's resignation and keep her in politics. I will utilise her whiteness to further the family business plans."

"That is insane when you think about it like that. Proud to be a Slitheen - we never mistreat any of our family members wrong one jot!" declared Tariq with pride, placing a claw onto his heart patriotically. He could not fathom in the slightest how the British humans could oppress themselves so coldly and ruthlessly. In any case, it served as further motivation and justification to take over Britain. The British humans had failed to live up to their own ideals of democracy and tolerance. Only Slitheen rule could end racism and all the other oppressive '-isms' that divided and prevented peace and harmony in British society.

"Besides", Eleanor continued elucidating "it is super satisfying to be wearing the skins of our most vociferous opponents. A truly humbling experience, I ought to imagine for our victims, especially the white racists among them." elaborated Eleanor further before chuckling to herself. She was always selective about her victims. The more of a dangerous threat they posed to the family, the more satisfying the hunt and kill hence the appeal that Whittaker naturally gave off to the predatory Slitheen. Posing a double threat to humans and slitheen meant that their murders were absolutely justified.

"Daddy, can I be the one to hunt her?" asked Zohra impatiently. She was itching to get her first kill out of the way. Her parents though completely ignored her request as if she were not there.

"But I have heard rumours. Apparently, she is planning to resign in the next few days with a public announcement and all. Why do you still want her? Her designated replacement is fat enough, I think.". Tariq silently in his mind tried to figure out Eleanor's overarching motivation to specifically wear MP Whittaker at this particular stage. Naturally, Eleanor happily revealed her rationale further.

"MP Jodie Whittaker's popularity with the thick locals will ensure an easy retention of the parliamentary seat. I am aware that she intends to resign. The family hierarchy have deemed it suspicious; they have asked me to wear her in order to prevent that suspicious move, live out her trivial, numb human existence and find out what she has been up to."

"And the competition? I assume that you will want to be coming up against me inside that obese creature?". Tariq zoomed a camera onto a Mr Patrice Lumumba. An exceptionally large Black British human in his late-fifties, whose belly flab sagged in every outfit that he was depicted to be wearing on the computer screens, Lumumba was the proposed Labour candidate scheduled to contest the Conservatives and MP Whittaker for her seat in the upcoming elections. To ensure a desired victory, the Slitheen needed to pose as all possible candidates. That would ensure that a Slitheen would definitely be taking the parliamentary seat come election day.

"Absolutely! My victory may already be assured but I want to be debating you live on local television. It will make for great entertainment I say. These stupid humans will have no clue making it all the more fun." The married couple laughed wildly amongst themselves, revelling in the opportunity to muscle their way into British human politics stealthily and take power for themselves. The thick humans would have no clue what was really going on.

"But Daddy!-"

"Silence petulant child!" screamed Eleanor to her obnoxious offspring. Her patience had run extremely thin with her impatient daughter. It was her turn to discipline their daughter. "How dare you interrupt your seniors whilst we formulate a plan! Where are your manners, child?!"

"Mummy, I'm so sorry…" croaked Zohra, who was now sobbing silently, raising a claw to the right side of her face to hide the tears. Like all good mothers, Eleanor pulled her child into her, creating a hub for comfort. She began to speak softly into her ear.

"If you had the discipline and patience, you would have heard by now that this is indeed going to be your first hunt." revealed Mother Slitheen to her child.

"What, really? D-do you...do you really mean that? Oh brilliant!" screamed Zohra in delight. At long last, she would be able to complete the most important rites of passage in Slitheen-hood: hunting.

"What do you mean, my darling?" asked Tariq innocently of Eleanor. He had no idea up to now what Eleanor had been planning. The Slitheen woman began to play about with the keyboard and soon enough, all the cameras focused on a young British human female in her early twenties.

"Her, Zohra. You will hunt her down and wear her skin. It is absolutely necessary for the family plans." Eleanor announced unexpectedly.

"Who the hell is she?" blurted out Tariq in surprise. The screens were depicting a short-yet-fat-enough blonde peachy white human female engaging in the most banal human activities; smoking, drinking alcohol and dancing terribly at wild parties and nightclubs. What an empty and vacuous existence, the Slitheen present thought to themselves. Such a trivial existence demonstrating that this female was emotionally imbalanced and was seeking escapist opportunities at every turn. How on earth could she contribute to assisting the infiltration operation?, Tariq thought to himself in myopic fashion, failing to see the utility Eleanor could.

"Diana Goddard. Intern assistant to MP Whittaker. The only human that has regular physical access to the MP and her offices. Zohra will take charge of her skin, surveill Whittaker and enable me to get my claws upon that human when the occasion is right." revealed Eleanor. Her clever planning astounded the other family members.

"Wow, I am finally going to be able to hunt! I can't wait to tell Daxto and Brithelyetux everything". Zohra was absolutely delighted at the prospect. That raw blurtation invited a sharp rebuke from her mother.

"No, you are not. This is a top-secret high-level infiltration operation approved by the family hierarchy. Nobody else is allowed to know, Zohra. And if anyone does find out, and if the infiltration does not go ahead as desired, I will personally sink you inside a tub of venom grubs and vat acid. Do I make myself clear?" threatened Eleanor with authority.

"Yes." answered Zohra monosyllabically.

"Yes, what?" asked Eleanor firmly of her child.

"Yes, Mummy dear." responded the Child Slitheen submissively to her parent mother. Eleanor relished dominating her subordinates, Slitheen and humans. It is what made her a very successful general at UNIT and as an individual. She also needed to establish firm hierarchy and discipline within her own family that would naturally assist in securing desired outcomes.

"Excellent. Now we all know what we are doing. Tomorrow, I will acquire Miss Gopal and remove her permanently from the political scene. I intend to have some fun in that skin all the same." she said, chuckling with her family members.

"Tariq, you will acquire the Labour contestant, Mr Lumumba. After that, we will invite Miss Diana Goddard to a desired location chosen by us. Fortunately, I was able to discover a link between all three humans aforementioned: Diana Goddard is the adopted child of a failed relationship between Miss Gopal and Mr Lumumba. She remains closer to the latter than the former. That element nicely plays into our claws. Zohra will finally engage in her first hunt. Once acquired, Zohra will infiltrate MP Whittaker's office and collect further intelligence. Once the moment is most opportune, I will enter Whittaker's body once and for all. Stage One complete."

"Mummy, that is a great plan. You are so smart!" screamed Zohra in excitement. She always looked up to her mother as the role model to follow in adult life. Seeing and hearing all this planning only confirmed her inclinations.

"Thank you dear. But it is a group effort - a family effort - and we need everyone onboard and understand what is required of them. We cannot afford to displease the family hierarchy." responded Eleanor, trying to maintain a modicum of modesty. Although the Slitheen looked upon the humans as low-life thick inferiors, Eleanor always approached them carefully. She was wary of allowing arrogance to dictate the mission. Only hard work combined with patience and self-discipline would result in the desired outcomes. Eleanor would be able to behave arrogantly once she got her kill and posed as her victims. She personally viewed it as a treat, something to be earned. The rewards of being and living as a bona-fide Slitheen.

"I can't wait to get my claws on that human!" exclaimed Zohra once more. She was thrilled to finally be able to hunt and participate with her parents in a family operation.

"Don't worry, dear. Once our existence on this rock has been 'legalised', you can go on all the hunts you want to. Unsupervised." promised Tariq to his daughter.

The Child Slitheen began to laugh wildly before reaching a crescendo of maniacal laughter. Her parents also joined in, placing their warm claws around her small neck, as they finalised their plans to target and acquire some inferior British humans and put their skins into service of the British Slitheen family business.

(The Next Day)

Primya Gopal was an exceptionally fat British Indian woman. A regular connoisseur of food and drink, she loved to dine most evenings with her friends at the fanciest restaurants available in her locale. After an exhausting hike somewhere in the south of England, she and some of her dearest friends entered a sleepy town to stay for the night. Prior to going to their hotel, Miss Gopal and her comrades naturally took the opportunity to head into the town and see what eateries were on offer. They settled on an innocuous restaurant that offered her favourite cuisine - Indian Tandoori. Inside, she ordered practically the entire menu, so ravished with hunger as she always had.

Inconveniently for Miss Gopal, the restaurant that she was eating inside was run by the British Slitheen. After some communication and intelligence reached her from her fellow family members well-placed across the nation, Eleanor teleported herself into the staffroom of the restaurant and wore a waitress disguise. Posing as an inconspicuous worker serving the humans their material desires, Eleanor skillfully managed to spike Primya Gopal's food with laxatives, causing the human to have the sudden urge to hit the toilets. Her stomach rumbled loudly before everyone.

"Are you okay, Prim?" asked her boyfriend, a rather skinny brown human that no Slitheen would have considered wearing.

"Yeah...I just feel a bit windy." replied the troubled human with a thick London cockney accent. Pretending to be cleaning a nearby table with a cloth, Eleanor eavesdropped on the conversations, waiting to intervene at the precise opportune moment.

"I think it is best if I hit the loo. Won't be long." Miss Gopal tried to lift her fat buttocks off her seat but struggled to maneuver. All of her friends had to shift themselves away to allow her space.

"Of course, of you pop." replied her boyfriend. Eleanor seized her chance. As Miss Gopal was getting up, the Slitheen adroitly moved herself into a convenient position to greet the human.

"Excuse me, where are the toilets?" asked Miss Gopal innocently to Eleanor, who was wearing a not particularly large Black British woman.

"Right this way, my lovely dear". She responded with a beaming smile to accompany it. It sounded like the waitress already knew what Primya wanted. As Miss Gopal lifted her fat buttocks off her seat at last and made her way past her other friends to escape the circular and cramped table, Eleanor causally released some flatulence from her admittedly rather tight disguise.

"Prrrrp!...oh! I think I may need to use the loo too!" she exclaimed to Miss Gopal, giggling as she did so like an immature girl. Eleanor then proceeded to lead the human female towards the toilets located in the back of the restaurant.

"In her, sweetheart. Quickly now." said Eleanor from the dead-lips of her waitress outfit. The toilets were not that big. It was a small room with a large longsided mirror with two sinks that reflected themselves and the two humans' appearances. It was very convenient for a Slitheen to operate undetected.

Once inside the toilets, the two females entered the only two available cubicles coloured in dark-green. Whilst Miss Gopal immediately pulled her pants down and relieved her bowel contents, Eleanor began to strip from her waitress outfit. Placing a hand to her forehead, Eleanor pulled back a hidden zip. Soon enough, Eleanor peeled back her human head and replaced it with her own Slitheen face. Then she threw the skin off her shoulders and chest allowing her to exercise her cramped arms and claws..At the same time, Miss Gopal heard loud moans and squelching coming repetitively from the cubicle next door, making her wonder what was going on. Finally, the waitress' outfit dropped to the floor. Eleanor was now in her desired nude Slitheen form.

Flushing the toilet a fair few times, Miss Gopal pulled up her pants and walked out of the cubicle feeling refreshed. Washing her hands at the sink, she heard more groaning. She wondered if the waitress was having problems so she went over

"Erm...are you okay there?" asked Miss Gopal. She knocked on the cubicle door and awaited a response.

"Just an upset stomach." a voice croaked. It sounded groggy and harsher than before.

"Erm...do you need any assistance?" Miss Gopal attempted to be polite and exercised her notions of human decency.

"No need, I am finally in my natural state - oh it feels just so good to get out of that skin. Is that all they had to give me?" bemoaned the voice as if now engaging in small talk with the human outside. More groans and squealing could be heard with greater intensity.

"Help me!" the voice croaked loudly. It sounded serious to Miss Gopal whose naive human nature meant she would soon become a victim of the Slitheen.

"Okay, not to worry I am coming in, I hope you don't mind." wanted Gopal. She pushed aside the door which surprisingly was not locked. What she found inside shocked her tremendously.

"What the hell…?"

Primya Gopal picked up what looked like the skin remains of a human being. She saw the same human face as before - the waitress.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. Someone or something had murdered this human and torn her from her flesh.

"Peakaboo human!" squealed a feminine voice from behind.

Miss Gopal turned around to see a large eight foot tall Slitheen in front of her. With a loud shrill scream that marked the end of her living existence, Primya Gopal became just another victim of the British Slitheen. A stinging claw strike from above ended her life instantaneously.

With expert methodological skill, Eleanor proceeded to tear the skin away from the flesh and began to make a suit out of Miss Gopal rather casually. Eleanor had been doing this for many years. She had lost count of how many humans had the (mis)fortune of becoming her clothes. Gopal was just another statistic if anything. Soon enough, Eleanor struggled with effort to fit her large Slitheen body inside of her. Her neck brace ensured that this could be possible after a few minutes. Struggling to her feet, Eleanor finally managed to balance herself. Firmly inside Primya Gopal, Eleanor farted immediately.

"Prrrrrrp!...oooooh-oh I did not expect that so soon!" she gasped before she burst out laughing to herself. Eleanor began to stretch inside her new skin and started to accustom herself to it.

"This skin feels sooooooooo good to be inside. I rarely say that for a human." Eleanor declared out aloud in front of the mirror as if she was talking to an audience.

"Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!...ooooo-oooh-oh that is...wonderful. The brown skin colour really reflects well in this light."

At that moment, a cleaner came inside. A British Chinese whose face reflected youthful features faithfully, she was smiling at Eleanor because of course, she was a Slitheen sister sent to clean up any mess that her other sister might have left behind. Seeing the cleaner in the mirror, Eleanor turned her human body around and faced her sister.

"Well, what do you think, sister?" asked Eleanor from the dead still-warm lips of Miss Primya Gopal. "I hope it's not too showy from behind." she asked apprehensively, wondering if her massive buttucks would prove to be an asset or a complete liability to her mission.

"Magnificent. Can I borrow this skin after you are done with it?" asked the cleaner innocently.

"No chance. I'm selling it on the markets after I'm done with it. My other skin is in that cubicle. Clear up any mess I left and get rid of that skin at once." barked Eleanor rudely. This behaviour was not fully consistent with the egalitarian family code that demanded all members of the Slitheen family share their gains with one another. In fact, Eleanor was displaying signs of corruption; her greed and insatiable appetite to accumulate vast swathes of wealth for her and her inner family was starting to take precedence over the family well-being. Inevitably, Eleanor began to act cruel even towards other members of the family.

"Oh...okay then." said the Slitheen sister, shocked at the treatment she experienced from a fellow Slitheen. That behaviour was solely earmarked for humans exclusively usually. Whilst the cleaner got to work, Eleanor began to adjust her Gopal skin in the front mirror to make herself more comfortable.

"Next time I am here, I expect the skin suit I am allotted to be a tad bit fatter. Do I make myself clear?" barked Eleanor once more as she began stretching her face whilst staring into the mirror. She was absolutely delighted with her latest capture.

"Yes." replied the cleaner monotonously.

"Where are your manners, sister? I ought to remind you that you are talking to a former general at UNIT - yes, what?" Eleanor sounded like a bully. But she thought herself entitled to behave in this way. It was her own version of morality that conveniently trumped all else.

"Yes, ma'am." responded the cleaner submissively. Eleanor enjoyed her domination and relished any occasion to exercise it. It made her feel important and powerful. That was all that mattered to her. Whether it upset anyone else did not matter to this Slitheen. Eleanor had long dreamed of becoming a senior family head at the top echelons of the hierarchy. But it was a dog-eat-dog world; Eleanor would have to consistently demonstrate ruthlessness and mercilessness on every occasion if she were to achieve that. British Slitheen family heads were the most corrupt, amoral beings in existence: mass psycho killers who gathered all power and wealth into their claws and prevented anyone else from accessing it. Eleanor could not have cared less; she wanted in. Her domination of her subordinates was in effect a rehearsal for the real role she long felt entitled to. Morality and basic manners had no place there except to functionally keep things going as they were. If anything, Eleanor had picked up the amorality constantly exhibited by British humans that she had lived and interacted with for decades. She had truly gone 'native' to the extent that she was now openly disrupting the timeold family traditions.

"There's a good girl. Now, I believe my human friends are waiting for me. Best that I not be late." the disguised Slitheen now perfectly imitating Gopal's thick London cockney accent. Spraying herself with some perfume that the human Primya Gopal had brought to the bathroom in her side bag, Eleanor confidently strutted her large body back to where her human companions were. With a big beaming smile showcasing a being so full of life, Miss Gopal rejoined her boyfriend and other companions at the table.

"You alright there, Prim? You were gone for quite some time. I was almost getting worried." remarked her human boyfriend, who shifted himself into the corner so as to make more room for his corpulent lover.

"Oh yeah...just had a change of skin." she replied before bursting out laughing as she sat herself down. It produced a mini-thud. Her sense of humour was lost on all the other humans around her. They did not understand what the joke was.

"Okay…" said one of her friends before the chatter moved onto other trivial human-related matters.

"Right, what's on offer? I am absolutely starving….prrrrrp!...Oh do excuse me, you will have to get used to my doing that, I am terribly afraid." Eleanot began to assert their authority, now more comfortable inside her new skin.

"Yoohoo...Waiter, I demand you bring for me four portions of lamb chops, more fries and two bottles of brandy pronto!" Gopal arrogantly requested a fellow Slitheen sister working at the family-owned restaurant.

"Honey, don't you think you're overeating?" asked the boyfriend, now very concerned with the seemingly unstable appetite of his girlfriend.

"Goodness, no. I am just getting started. I can't wait to eat you in the bedroom too." blurted out Gopal in a most blunt manner. That caught her human counterpart off guard but it excited him enough to silence him from continuing to ask more questions of her. With a hearty laugh, Eleanor looked forward to enjoying the life of Primya Gopal with vim.

(Three Hours Later)

"How did your hunt go?" asked Eleanor over the phone.

Tariq was on the other end. She had just finished copulating with her husband in a two hour long session that spanned the evening in their hotel room. With enthusiastic energy and stamina, Eleanor was able to tire out her human lover who went to sleep almost immediately after he ejaculated into her. With him out of the picture, Eleanor walked away from the bed stark naked and rang her husband with a nearby telephone to see how Stage One was progressing. The human male had passed out; his entire body lay there barely covered by his bed sheets.

"Erm...Mission accomplished. I am wearing the skin of Mr Patrice Lumumba right now. Are you wearing Miss Gopal's skin? I detect tharbstrong London cockney accent so I assume you must be."

"Yep, I too have succeeded in my hunt. Gopal's skin is perhaps the best suit I've worn in a long, long time. I have no complaints; even the gas exchange is pleasurable!"

"Please don't tell me you have been sleeping with a human…" said Tariq, sounding annoyed but also resigned to the independence of his wife.

"Yes, Tariq darling, I have been sleeping with the enemy. Come now, it's part and parcel of the disguise. And fucking lowlife humans is not adultery; they are not Slitheen for goodness sake."

"Dear, we have talked about this multiple times. You can't be with humans, they're...filthy. Scum. How do you think I feel? I am your husband, remember?" reminded Tariq. He was a firm believer in Slitheen purity and apartheid; the British Slitheen ought not to be mingling with non-Slitheen in any way, especially humans who were beneath the Slitheen in the food chain. Predators only kill their prey eventually. Nothing else but a hunt should colour that relationship.

"You're being theatrical as always, Tariq. British female Slitheen love their independence and this is our way of showing it. It's a reaction to all that hyper-patriarchy crap these male Brits have perpetuated for centuries. Don't blame me for wanting my freedom." responded Eleanor, attempting to rationally justify her misbehaving ways. She did not have to copulate with humans necessarily. This Slitheen did so because she wanted to satisfy her lustful urges. She hated any male trying to assert control over her agency.

"And-" Her stomach rumbled as she tried to continue her speech. "Oh hang on", Eleanor lifted one of her long legs up onto her thick thighs and braced herself, "Prrrrrrp!...Oh my! Phew!... I was dying to get that one out, dear." She declared pompously before giggling wildly over the phone. Tariq desperately wished he was there with his wife to join in the fun.

"As long as you don't extract too much pleasure from them over me." conditioned Tariq of his wife's misbehaviour. Intimate contacts with non-Slitheen were technically banned and even punishable by death. However, most of the family barring the strict puritans regularly ignored this rule. The British Slitheen were exceptionally sensual beings; if they wanted to have fun with non-Slitheen then they would do so. They hated civilisational norms and values that restricted their sexual behaviour and therefore their sexuality. Behaving in libertine fashion was the Slitheen way of subverting these stifling limitations man-made by humans. Once the Slitheen took formal charge of Britain, all of these human limitations would be abolished by the family and much for the better.

"Absolutely, Tariq babe. Only you truly belong inside of me. Only you can satisfy me. So you did not run into any trouble?" Eleanor asked her husband playfully, hoping to ease his discomfort by making him now the subject of the conversation.

"Not a bad evening...well, it was quite awkward to say the least. He was in bed with two-"

"I do not want to hear about it, Tariq. Human 'fun' is not to be compared to Slitheen 'fun''' said Eleanor hypocritically to her husband. Only moments earlier was she proclaiming her delight in fucking a human.

"The most important thing is: are you ready to return to the hideout?"

"Yes, El. I am indeed."

"Excellent. Rendezvous with me at 11pm. Tell Zohra to prepare herself. It's time for her hunt."

"Will do, El. See you then."

"See you there, my love."

With that, Eleanor slammed the phone down back to its initial resting place. The sharp brief sound that it produced suddenly awoke the human male.

"Prim...Prim, what are you doing there?" He said out aloud in groggy fashion, his eyes barely wide open. He could only see the opulent large brown buttocks of Miss Gopal as well as her loose hair that reached down to her shoulders.

"Ooooooooh awake again are you?" Eleanor turned around in her suit, licking her lips lustfully with her extended red tongue. Her large breasts swayed imperiously as he strutted slowly up to her prey. She was delighted that the human was up once more for that meant another lovemaking session before she had to permanently depart on family business.

"No, I should really go back to sleep…" said the male. He seemed apprehensive and non-reciprocating of the same intensive desire of his lover. In fact, deep down, he was terrified of the female's sexual prowess. Primya Gopal as a British human had rarely demonstrated much enthusiasm for sex. What on earth happened to her lately, wondered the innocent human.

"Poppycock. I think it's time for round two." said Miss Gopal lustfully. Jumping atop of the male, who appeared to be terrified by his lover's sexual appetite and stamina, Eleanor began to imitate another lovemaking session. "Ding-Ding! Round Two commences!" She exclaimed out aloud so playfully as she enthusiastically got to work.

The next few hours in that bedroom were filled with nothing but moanful sounds of delight and sexual pleasure…

(Hours Later)

"Where is she?! Daddy, you said she would be coming right now!" moaned Zohra annoyingly

"She's coming, she's coming!" Tariq replied anxiously, trying to calm his daughter's panic. Diana Goddard was due to arrive at their house.

"Any second now." Eleanor announced.

The doorbell rang. Diana Goddard was waiting impatiently outside. Zohra gasped spontaneously. Her prey had finally arrived.

"She's here!" Tariq screamed loudly to his family

"Quick, go to your room. We will call you down when the time is right." Eleanor said to her child. Zohar promptly left the living room and made her way slavishly upstairs.

"Tariq, compose yourself on that sofa. I'll introduce our victim inside." Eleanor said as she walked towards the door. Tariq lay down on the sofa and put on an act. Disguised perfectly inside her Gopal outfit, Eleanor opened the door casually. There stood the intended victim.

"Welcome in, Miss Goddard." said Eleanor warmly through the dead lips of Primya Gopal.

"I prefer Diana." replied the youthful short, fat blonde human.

"Come in, make yourself at home, Diana." Eleanor tried again.

"I am not here for you, Primya. I am here for Pat. Where is he?"

"Over here, Diana love." Tariq called out from the dead lips of his human costume.

"How are you?" she asked, showcasing some concern as she came around.

"Much better that you are now here." Tariq now sat up on the sofa. He did not demonstrate any signs of troublesome health.

"But Primya told me you had a heart attack. I rushed over from the offices here…"

"False alarm, darling. I think I'm just getting old...prrrrrp!...you should try doing that sometime, eh?" Tariq replied deceitfully. He got off the sofa and began to stand beside Miss Gopal, placing a hand sensually around her waist to indicate to Diana that they were indeed a couple once more.

"Wait, so nothing is wrong with you?...why are you with this woman again? You have hated each other since you broke up after she was found cheating on another man." Diana asked, demanding proper answers. This entire meeting felt wrong from the get-go. Something was amiss, the human felt intuitively though she would have no idea how far amiss.

"Wouldn't be the first time, mind." remarked Tariq sarcastically. He was making a thinly-veiled reference to Eleanor mating with non-Slitheen, often behind his back.

"What?!" replied Diana in exasperation. She could not believe what was going on. Miss Gopal decided at this point to re-enter the conversation.

"Look sweetheart, we are having a reunion. Believe you me, we are over the moon to have you here. Really."

"I should really be going now. Don't bother contacting me again, either of you." Diana warned. She felt disgusted that her adopted father could ever get back with a devious woman like Primya Gopal again after what she did five years ago. The young human attempted to swiftly leave the house. But as she tried to turn the doorknob of the front door, it would not budge. It was locked obviously. Tariq began to jangle the keys in his right hand, toying with his human subject.

"What is the meaning of all this? Let me go now. Or I'll ring-"

"-the police?" Eleanor butted in to finish Diana's speech. She held up a portable mobile phone. It belonged to Diana.

"What are you doing? Give that back at once." Diana cried out in vain to Miss Gopal. Eleanor was going to enjoy bullying this arrogant human in the last minutes of her life. She and Tariq tossed the phone back and forth as Diana tried to grab it, giggling widley like immature kids.

"I can't wait any longer!" Zohra screamed to her nude self in the mirror. The Child Slitheen by this point had gotten fed up of waiting in her bedroom upstairs. Regardless of whether her parents were supposed to call her down, Zohra left her room and proceeded to make her way downstairs.

"You are not going anywhere, Diana. You are a part of the family. And you will stay part of it," warned Primya Gopal ominously.

Heavy footsteps could be heard. The floorboards piercingly creaked as someone was clearly coming downstairs.

"Who is that coming down the stairs?" Diana asked as she paused to listen more attentively. She could hear it was growling, whatever it was.

"Our daughter, Diana. She has been dying to meet for quite some time now." Gopal responded.

"Oh Zohra, you can introduce yourself now!" cried out Tariq. Unveiling itself out from the darkness, the Child Slitheen appeared. It was not more than five feet tall and looked rather cute as much as it was terrifying in appearance. Its arms and claws had yet to show signs of elongation development.

"W-what the...who the hell are you?" asked Diana, exasperated at an alien standing before her.

"I am Zohra, a Child of the British Slitheen. And this is my hunt." it declared confidently. With that announcement, Zohra began the chase Zohra squealed with delight as she ominously toyed with her prey. Diana tried desperately to out-maneuver Zohra everywhere in the house but was ultimately trapped. After a few minutes of chasing, Zohra acrobatically jumped on top of Diana, placing her claws around her frail neck. The Child Slitheen was now squeezing the life out of the human, whose desperate screams seemingly justified her victimhood.

"Come on honey, let's leave our child to have her 'fun'". Tariq said as he placed a claw around his wife and moved with her into the empty living room nearby. They slammed the door shut to ensure that nobody would disturb them.

Whilst Zohra struggled to put an end to Diana's depressingly-low human existence, Eleanor and Tariq tried to watch the telly in the other room. They deliberately turned up the volume to the max so as to assist Zohra and prevent any bothersome, nosy neighbours from hearing what was going on. But the programming nowadays made by humans was just so depressing and unoriginal. Tariq and Eleanor eventually decided to engage in conversation to pass the time.

"I never asked: how is this skin that you are wearing?" asked the male Slitheen curiously. Every skin suit came with its own perks and disadvantages. Moreover, Tariq had never worn a female skin even though nothing stopped him from doing so.

"Fuckin' love it. So spacious and snug. Very flexible too. I enjoy teasing humans inside of Miss Primya Gopal" declared Eleanor imperiously. She loved being a Slitheen and all the privileges it afforded to her on Earth. It made her an alpha-predator.

"That's the best thing about being a Slitheen. Wherever we want something, we just go out and get it. All these humans are simply skin suits-in-waiting." Tariq declared with a chuckle.

"Too right. I prefer bossing these thick idiot lifeforms about. It's sooooo sexy and domination is just natural, the way things should always be on this rock." declared Eleanor with sentiments of entitlement and royalism.

"Hear, hear!" Tariq waved a few tight fists into the air in acknowledgement of his wife's remarks.

"Thanks to the influence of the family, we have made British humans more comfortable with their sexuality and how they express themselves. I can confidently confirm that this country has the highest sex rates on the planet."

"Well, seeing as we are in our human skins now, why don't we vindicate that fact further, eh?" He clearly wanted to fuck his wife whilst inside their human skins. Being inside a human and doing it made it only more titillating.

"Oh Tariq, I love it when you try to act innocent. Delicious."

"Come here and ravish me, my darling!" Tariq requested playfully.

"As if I need an invitation!" Eleanor quipped.

Grabbing Tariq's human face, Eleanor began to kiss him passionately in an intense manner which only excited the two further. Wasting little time, the duo took off their human clothing and began to warmly embrace each other's skins. It reminded them of their bitter-sweet previous human existence and represented a wild occasion to relive it utilsing stolen human skin suits. The frantic sounds of sexual pleasure and delight filled the room for the next half an hour; Eleanor's repetitive orgasms worked a treat in masking the murder occuring in the next room...

Still inside their human skins, Eleanor and Tariq began to engage unabashedly in a quick love-making session. After half an hour, Zohra entered the room where her parents were, now inhabiting the peachy white skin of the blonde fatty Diana Goddard.

"Mummy, I'm done." she announced as she arrived.

"Oh, really? That was quick." sighed Eleanor as if she disapproved of such an impressive fast first time kill and skinning for an amateur Slitheen. She was in the midst of an intense love making session with her husband. They had presumed that Zohra's lack of experience in crafting skin suits

"I don't think it's too bad, bu- woah!

Zohra has walked in on her parents copulating wildly with one another in their human skins; Eleanor was on all fours whilst Tariq was penetrating forcefully from behind in a frog-like position that allowed the two lovers to warmly share contact with one another.

"THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD ONLY FUCK WITH SLITHEEN!" he bellowed at his wife, so absorbed in the moment that he failed to notice his child entering the room. He was releasing all of his frustrations and anxieties out now onto his wife sexually in a bid to win over her respect and loyalty.

"Oooooh Tariq, ooooooh...that is wonderful. Faster, faster!" Eleanor moaned as she delighted in receiving physical stimulation. She did not appear to acquiesce to Tariq's imperative but rather took pleasure in his anger. The Child Slitheen simply did not know what to say or do.

"Oh this is too much!" squealed Zohra who was not expecting this. She placed a human hand over her human eyes to try and shield her vision.

"Don't be such a prude, Zohra." snapped Eleanor as she panted for her breath. She and Tariq sadly had to disengage and concentrate on their child. Her lucious human Gopal skin was all bare. It was a magnificent view to behold.

"You finished quickly. Only took you half an hour to crawl inside of her." Tariq remarked, sounding impressed.

"Yeah. It's a bit tight around the middle...prrrp!" farted Zohra abruptly in her skin as she adjusted herself to her new suit.

"Perfectly natural human behaviour just like farting. Rejoice in it." Eleanor counselled her offspring as she began to clothe herself in her smart suit once more. She began to sort out her hair and makeup in the mirror in front of the fireplace.

"How is the gas exchange Zohra?" asked her father who likewise was dressing himself up again alongside his wife.

"Not too bad...this skin is a bit tight but manageable...prrrp!" Zohra released another tiny cute fart. She was starting to acclimatise to her human outfit.

"That's the spirit!" Tariq applauded as he approved of his offspring's new suit.

"Never mind that! How does it feel to have your first hunt?" asked Eleanor, fully delighted that her daughter was now fulfilling her natural predatory Slitheen-ness.

"Come here in front of the mirror...Look, you now wear this pathetic human. You own Diana. By right of conquest. You can do whatever you want inside of her and nobody will know you are inside." Eleanor began explaining the Slitheen way of life to her daughter.

"It does feel strange though." Zohra commented.

"Explain, Zohra?" asked the mother.

"Well, you know..it's just that...well…"

"Well, what? Speak your mind at once, child!" bellowed the Mother Slitheen loudly. She was detecting some hesitancy from her offspring. That counted as weakness. It needed to be rooted out on the spot.

"This human that I am wearing - she was a living creature. I know it is going to make you mad but I feel...guilty." Zohra revealed as she began to touch her human Diana face using the mirro as a guide. Eleanor immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation and sprung into action.

"Look, you have undertaken your first hunt and you have been rewarded with a skin suit. That is incredible for a first-timer. Not many of your cousins can boast about that. Whom you killed was a human. A wretched low level life form doomed to succumb to the forces of progress and advancements made by the British Slitheen. It is all perfectly natural."

Eleanor was skillfully manipulating her child's emotions and suppressing any potential dissent. The Slitheen utilised their predatory nature to brutally advance the family plans. The earlier that a Slitheen was socialised into hating Non-Slitheen and murder made it easier to control them. Failure to kill meant you were a weak Slitheen, no better than a non-Slitheen who was below the Slitheen in the food chain. They could not participate in the family business if they were not willing to kill. Eleanor was trying to get Zohra to understand this now.

"Do not forget that many of these humans want us Slitheen extinct. So many of our uncles and aunties have been violently murdered and locked up in this country alone. We are merely extracting our revenge. An eye for an eye. Do you think humans in this country will leave you alone if you walk around the streets naked?

"I guess not." Zohra concluded herself.

"Precisely. Now is not the time to harbour feelings for a lowlife species that will soon be under our domination. You must cultivate the mindset that these humans serve you in everything you do. Their skins are adornments for your body if you are not using them as disguises. You have an automatic right over humans from the moment you were born by virtue of being a member of the mighty British Slitheen family - the greatest alpha-predators in the known universe. Embrace these privileges. Rejoice in it" demanded the Mother Slitheen.

"Yeah, Zohra. The first time is always a bit weird. Everyone goes through this phase, no matter their age. But once you get a few hunts under your belly, you realise that this is what you were born to do. Pointless having any regrets." Tariq interjected, reinforcing his wife's arguments. He wanted to raise a strong, female Slitheen who would relish any occasion to strike down a human.

"Now, before we proceed further Zohra, do you have any more doubts that need clearing?" asked Eleanor, placing a firm grip on Zohra's human shoulder. It felt threatening and overbearing. The Mother Slitheen expertly knew what she was doing. Zohra had to suppress any of her morality now and get with the family business who had near-complete control over the lives of all Slitheen.

"Mummy, you are absolutely correct. I can't wait to have fun inside my new skin!" Zohra now remarked, successfully suppressing her emotions. "It feels so superb being inside this costume." She wanted to fully participate. Her parents naturally smiled in response to this development.

"Excellent. Stage One is complete. We have all managed to acquire our skins on time." Eleanor declared triumphantly.

"Now Zohra...or should that be Diana? We have been over the plan numerous times. You will continue to serve as assistant to human MP Jodie Whittaker. Tariq, be a gentleman and drop our daughter off to work." Eleanor commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am." Tariq responded affirmatively. He and Diana promptly left the home for the offices. Meanwhile, Eleanor began to overly indulge in some cakes that she had baked earlier.

(Over The Next Several Days)

Zohra hated masquerading as human female Diana Goddard. Every day at the office, MP Whittaker would just boss her around constantly, directing all the workload at her. Diana Goddard the human was a recent university graduate in Archeology before she met Zohra's claws. Unfortunately, her degree was worthless in a society that valued STEM and technology-based subjects so she embarked on unpaid internships to build up her resume. That is how she got the summer 'job' to work in Whittaker's office.

This pale white female MP never really worked per se. She just performed like every other single politician get the parliamentary seat in the first place, Jodie Whittaker decitfully positioned herself as a 'progressive' feminist that won her the support of most of the Conservative stronghold in her constituency. Those supporters were not really linked in any way to proper Conservative traditions. In any case, the Conservatives were now just the flipside of the Labour supporters, two sides of the same coin. Ideological differences between the two had largely collapsed since both parties worked hard to ensure the same system remained in place, year in, year out. Meanwhile, once she gained power, MP Whittaker then switched tack and began to speak at Far-Right rallies condemning the Slitheen as vile murderers and aliens who had come to take over 'our' country. She happily gave the desperate Diana Goddard a seat at her office, shifting all the workload onto her whilst freeing up time for their MP to indulge in more leisure and fun.

Thanks to the neoliberal era instituted by humans in Britain decades earlier, cheap labour across the UK was available. Interns did not have to be paid for all the hard labour. If they moaned about the poor pay and long hours that depressed them, jobs could then pass over to the undeveloped humans residing in the 'Third World' who would only be too happy to enter Britain and escape the hell where they lived. Whites and non-Whites were purposely being screwed over as a select elite strata of humans deceitfully accumulated most wealth and power into their hands. They were answerable to nobody and more often than not invisible to public perceptions. To keep the con going, the British public and media were given a constant cycle of enemies to be hating on: Blacks, Asians, Muslims, 'Terrorists' and now the British Slitheen. It had worked for centuries; why would they suddenly give up their ill-gotten power, prestige and wealth now? Keep the public in perpetual fear and they happily hand you their free will without much prior thought. Amorality aptly summed up the structural state of Britain in the twenty first century.

Democracy, secularism, capitalism, feminism etc. - all were a great sham in this day and was merely a mask for performative politics. Voting would not alter the unjust system hellbent on making everyone's lives miserable and enslaved to it. MP Whittaker was a clever enough British human to know that. She intended to use her privileged role to build up contacts, experience and wealth. Now the time for her personally was opportune to leave the political scene and move up elsewhere in British society. She never really cared about the wellbeing of the constituency she was supposed to be watching over like a concerned steward. Cynical self-interests trumped commitments to the common good and all institutes/organisations originally designed to ensure them. The system was broken; nobody seemed to have any ideas as to how exactly to end this deadlock, the negative feedback loop that kept everyone depressed, divided and ultimately incapable of resisting.

Zohra found out first hand why humans in Britain and perhaps around the world were depressed and living a low level fleeting existence. Humans loved to oppress each other and themselves. It was a deadly circle that nobody felt they could escape. This was largely unknown to the British Slitheen who prided themselves on upholding an egalitarian family code. Granted, Slitheen peace was contingent on dominating non-Slitheen but the British humans had a similar modus operandi so they were never going to be in a position to critique honestly without displaying hypocrisy. And now Zohra too would have to ensure at least temporarily as she performed the existence of human Diana Goddard: the mistreatment and arrogance that was being meted out to her by the human politician made Zohra detest humans all the more.

"Right, I'm heading off to a party. If anyone asks regarding my whereabouts, tell them that I am visiting my terminally-ill grandmother at the hospital." ordered MP Whittaker of her internee to lie. This was the third party within the week. Zohra actually spent only an hour or two of a whole working day with the MP hence the human rarely heard Zohra releasing some of her gas exchange.

"Yeah, alright. No worries." said Diana, hoping the MP would disappear at once. She detested her very existence. It would not be long anyways before her mother would crawl inside of her. That future reality motivated Zohra to take the slack on the chin more easily.

"And don't you think about popping off home early. I have access to all the CCTV cameras at these offices. If you move where you aren't supposed to be going, I will know about it. And that will prompt disciplinary action." Disciplinary action? Who did this human think she was?!

"Do I make myself clear, girl?" demanded MP Whittaker forcefully with so much arrogance.

"Yes." replied Zohra monosyllabically

"Yes, what?" asked MP Whittaker with irritation. She enjoyed dictating the life of this miserable girl.

"Yes, Ma'am." replied Zohra after producing an angry puff. She was fully subordinated to the whims of MP Whittaker and there was nothing she could do about it. She was, in effect, her slave.

"So much better when people speak with manners around here. That will soon be the case everywhere." Whittaker said, failing to mask her speech with a whisper. "Right then, off I pop. Toodles. I want everything done before the 4am deadline tomorrow morning. Or else." The human female promptly exited the office and went about her own business elsewhere in the capital, leaving her internee to unjustly deal with all her political responsibilities. After a few hours into the work, Zohra became exceptionally bored. She did not see the point in continuing working in such a stupid job that yielded no benefits at all. Accessing her mobile phone, Zohra rang the only person who truly knew how she was feeling right now.

"Mummy, this is so boring! I hate having to be a slave to this stupid human." moaned Zohra to her mother.

"I know that serving inferiors is detestable to any alpha species, dear, but you just have to deal with it. We all have to do our dues." Eleanor explained.

"But Mummy, the human female is so oppressive…"

"Don't argue with me Zohra. The family business comes first before our egos." Eleanor warned firmly. She found her daughter to be too soft when the going got tough. Zohra responded by sighing in resignation.

"Alright then." she said with a puff. Anything for the family business.

"There's a good girl. Now if you will excuse me, my husband awaits me in the bedroom!" Eleanor revealed before she abruptly ended the phone call.

Zohra continued to carry out her tasks set by Whittaker over the next few hours. Once completed, an exhausted Zohra collapsed herself onto the table into a deep sleep. But it was disrupted almost immediately when she heard the office doors open loudly. Someone had arrived, but why at this late time?

"Damn fools, why could they not have requested a meeting earlier?" cursed MP Whittaker loudly as she ascended up the stairs and back to her office. Gathering her belongings, Zohra hid herself in a convenient cabinet nearby. She dropped some perfume bottles somewhere on the floor but it was pitch black dark inside the cupboard room and there was now no time to do anything hasty. The door was left slightly ajar, enabling Zohra to have clear vision of what MP Whittaker was getting up to this late. The MP hurried inside the office once more, taking off her furry jacket and making herself at home. Once settled, the human took a device outside of her large leather handbag and placed it on the table. It was not a human technological device. No way, they are far too inferior to come up with something as advanced as that, Zohra thought to herself. But if it was not a human-made device then by default it had to be...alien! How on earth had this human got her hands .On the table in front of her, MP Whittaker began to fiddle around with the device. Considering the way she was conducting herself, this human was clearly smart, demonstrating high intelligence.

"Okay, that is set up...they should be able to come here now." Whittaker muttered to herself. Instantaneously, a loud zap followed. Two large eight feet Raxicorifallipatorians now stood before the human female. But they were not Slitheen. Their skin was strikingly light blue. Zohra recognised them almost immediately - Rangoreen. She had studied about them in Slitheen school only a few weeks ago. A product of an intermarriage gone wrong between the evolutionary common ancestors of the Slitheen and Blathreen, the Rangoreen were the inferior halfbreeds of the family branches. They were the laughing stock of Raxicorifallipatorions for eons and they resented their low status. They saw the Slitheen and Blathreen as their sworn rivals, projecting their self-hatred and the cause of it onto them. Numerous wars had occurred between them and the 'original' Slitheen. But the British Slitheen were different; they had no real ties to Raxicorifallipatorius nor any links to the other families. All of their interests and investments were solely based on Earth, Britain specifically. What did their presence on Earth mean for the family?

"About time! What took you so long?" queried MP Whittaker, annoyed that she would have to conduct this sort of business this late at night. Zohra surmised straight away that this was not their first meeting. MP Whittaker had been up to something this whole time. Zohra's mother and the family heads were correct in identifying Whittaker as a prime taker for acquisition.

"We were having dinner. Lots of scrumptious Rakweed devoured this evening...yum yum." said one of them. His name was Bluvart.

"Yes, we can't ever skip dinner, even for business matters. I have to have my share of Rakweed." declared the other Rangoreen, Deriz, who was the older of the two siblings.

They farted simultaneously as the Rakweed was being digested in their large stomachs. MP Whittaker found it immensely uncouth and uncivilized behavior. The Rangoreen on the other hand found it perfectly natural.

"Oh Bluvart! That stinks!" cried out Deriz in disapproval.

"Sorry brother, I can't help myself. I may have overindulged myself this evening. Oh well." To Whittaker, these aliens were nothing more than bumbling idiots who could be manipulated into supporting her own agenda.

"Ahem," coughed MP Whittaker, desiring to get the conversation back on track, "I believe we are here to conduct some business?"

"Oh yes." said Bluvart.

"Elections are coming up. It is time we make our long awaited moves." declared MP Whittaker.

"Ah yes. The Slitheen will have already taken over many of your politicians in this country. We believe that in this particular election, the Slitheen will favour the Labour party winning. Then they will ensure that a referendum occurs that eventually leads to a favourable outcome securing their existence permanently on this rock, erm planet." elaborated Deriz confidently.

"To stop them, you will erm basically need...prrrrp!...vinegar. Lots and lots of vinegar. And prepare for war. A civil war even. Lots of humans on this rock stupidly support the Slitheen's right to exist. Idiots, the lot of them." remarked Deriz coldly. He detested the Slitheen. Their extinction would easily make his day.

"We are happy to supply you with homemade vinegar stockpiles as promised. Thanks to our constant genetic defects coupled with millennia of slow evolutionary change, the Rangoreen have developed full immunity to all acidic substances. We have no qualms in producing such volatile substances. In return, we expect that you will provide us with some living space and farmlands to grow our crops and raise our families. That is what we discussed in our last conversation, remember?"

"Not to worry. I have been in constant contact with the leading corporations on this planet who have proven to be very eager to strike a deal with your kind. We intend to lease you the African continent for your businesses. In fact, you can have anywhere that is not Europe or America. To hell with the rest." Whittaker responded, illustrating sheer contempt for her fellow humans.

"Oh excellent! We're going to have all the Rakweed we could ever want." announced Bluvart excitedly.

"You are so easy to sell out your own kind, eh?" Deriz asked, apprehensive. Was the British human MP willing to condemn billions of other humans to death as long as her interests were secured? The Rangoreen could never have envisaged doing the same to their own species - it broke all notions of ethics and basic decency.

"I do not care about anyone else. Only Britain and the British people inhabiting these isles. No aliens will be allowed in these parts of the world. I do not care what happens elsewhere. To hell with the rest of them." she declared unabashedly, revealing her sadistic psychopathic tendencies for her own humankind let alone the Slitheen.

"Rakweed! Oh glorious Rakweed!" Bluvart blurted out randomly. He was enthralled at the prospect of feasting on yet more Rakweed like the addict to it that he was. He envisioned a Rangoreen paradise of sorts on Earth. It sounded like a child was speaking about his endearing fantasies. He never was bright and it was always Deriz who completed any business transactions the two brothers embarked upon.

"I must say, Miss Whittaker, that even I am surprised by your speech." remarked Deriz. He had dealt with many scum across the galaxies in his time but Jodie Whittaker was promising to be someone else.

"Don't be. If many of my own British humans can sell me and the rest of the British public out to the Slitheen and not be viewed as traitors and scum, I do not see what the issue is with my stance." she rationalised to both the Rangoreen and herself.

"So it is agreed then: In exchange for letting some of your kind farm on some allocated land on this rock, you will be able to detect every single Slitheen killer masquerading in their disguises and provide us with the necessary supplies of vinegar. Then I will gladly help to ensure that they are all vinegar-ed down to the last baby." declared MP Whittaker. She was a sadistic psychopath who hated the Slitheen intensely, so much that she was willingly to ally opportunistically with the Rangoreen to secure their extinction. Meanwhile, Bluvart's nostrils began to detect something in the office.

"Smell that? There's something in that cupboard!" cried Buvart. "Go check it out, Deriz." The elder Rangoreen promptly luggered himself over to where the cupboard was. Opening the door fully, he peered inside the dark room. Rangoreen eyesight tended to be faulty due to the vast genetic defects that they suffered from as a result of constant inbreeding amongst cousins.

"Oh it smells so strong!" Bluvart cried out. "So young and fresh. What is it, I wonder?"

"I knew it!" shouted Deriz. He bent over and reached his claws into the cupboard. The Rangoreen produced a perfume bottle that Zohra had dropped accidentally as she struggled to hide herself earlier. "Phwoar! That is so powerful!" he said, marvelling at such a trivial item. The strong perfume thankfully masked the presence of Zohra to the Rangoreen.

"Oh I thought someone was hiding in there, Deriz! I've been itching to hunt - it's been two years!" moaned Buvart who was upset at what his sibling had teased. Meanwhile inside the cupboard Zohra whispered a sigh of relief to herself. That perfume bottle had saved her from being hunted by the Rangoreen.

"Soon, my friend. You will be able to hunt all the Slitheen in this country. I will personally make sure of it" announced MP Whittaker. The Rangoreen began to laugh maniacally amongst themselves, relishing the prospect of not only hunting the Slitheen but replacing their entire population with families of their own. A tactical genocide of sorts.

"Glad to be doing business with a human like yourself. You would make a fine addition to the Rangoreen family." teased Deriz, stretching out a claw towards. He detected a mean streak in the human female in addition to a complete lack of regard for morality and decency. Perfect attributes describing a Rangoreen.

"No thanks, I prefer staying human. Your part of the bargain must hold up first before you set foot anywhere on this planet." warned Whittaker. She did not exactly trust the Rangoreen nor knew of their true

"Of course. We will leave to your trivial human affairs. Bye now." said Deriz. The Rangoreen zapped themselves elsewhere. The office now hosted only MP Whittaker, who eventually left after tidying up her office.

"That stupid little shit can't even keep my office clean. What am I paying her for?" curses the MP under her breath. Zohra was an unpaid intern, it had to be recalled.

Once satisfied, she too left the office. MP Whittaker had tag teamed behind closed doors with the Rangoreen. The human female planned to utilise all the resources available to the Rangoreen to wipe out the British Slitheen once and for all. That was a mutual objective amicable to all parties in this deal. But although she promised the Rangoreen farmlands on Earth to grow their Rakweed, MP Whittaker likewise intended to destroy the Rangoreen once the Slitheen were dealt with. Britain and by extension, Earth, was to become a Slitheen-free zone. No aliens were allowed on it at any time.

Waiting for a few minutes to see if the coast was clear, Zohra finally re-emerged from the cramped side room. Her first instinct was to call Mummy.

"Yes, Zohra? What is it now?" asked Eleanor Slitheen, sounding highly irritated as she picked up the house phone. She was expecting her daughter to inevitably complain about her disguise or the poor miserable work conditions she was supposed to be enduring.

"Mummy...you are not going to like this." Zohra began ominously.

(The Next Day)

"Rangoreen? Rangoreen on this rock? Come off it! That can't be possible." Tariq rambled to himself aloud in disbelief at the family home in the kitchen. Eleanor Slitheen had summoned the family for an emergency meeting.

"Settle down, Tariq." demanded Eleanor in perfunctory fashion. She did not seem fazed by the prospect.

"Why haven't our planetary defences detected their presence?" he wondered. No aliens had penetrated Earth successfully since the British Slitheen took charge of UNIT, so how could the Rangoreen have arrived unnoticed?

"They must be using a jamming device. These Rangoreen already know that Slitheen are not only present on this rock but control all the powerful institutions. We thus must not underestimate them." Eleanor Slitheen warned.

"But how did they know we are here?" Tariq asked, panicking in his voice.

"Good question." replied Tariq but without continuing further.

"What do they want?" Tariq began to probe collectively with the family. He suspected that the Rangoreen could only be up to bad business.

"Zohra has already told us that they are smuggling in banned acidic substances onto this rock. Their colluding with MP Whittaker, that notorious figure on the Far-Right who likewise advocates our removal from our homeland country if not this rock, is merely opportunistic. She hates them and I do not suspect that they warmly received her either. The Rangoreen are colonial-settlers; they have been scouting out earth as a potential breeding ground for their vermin race. They are also notorious consumers and traffickers of Rakweed. So it is obvious what they want - total possession of this rock for their family business to prosper. That would mean that both the Slitheen and humans would have to be subjugated if not made extinct for the Rangoreen to progress further on this rock with their plans."

"Those dastard fiends!" Tariq bewailed, slamming his claws firmly on the marble table in the kitchen where the family were meeting.

"Daddy, what are we going to do about the Rangoreen?" asked Zohra unsure of what was supposed to happen next.

"UNIT. We must alert the family at once. This threat must end immediately otherwise our business plans will be ruined." announced Tariq rather hastily. Alerting the family to the Rangoreen presence might prevent the long awaited business plan from reaching fruition.

"No need, Tariq dear." Eleanor said. She seemed pretty calm about the whole threat.

"Ey? What do you mean? The family hierarchy must know otherwise the Slitheen are compromised on this rock." Tariq warned. He wondered now what his wife had cleverly concocted in her mind as she always did.

"That will not be necessary. We continue as planned. I will acquire MP Whittaker's magnificent body and pose as her in front of the Rangoreen. That way, I will find out about everything. Then I will destroy the Rangoreen. They won't know what will be hitting them." chuckled Eleanor, sounding sadistic. She relished outsmarting a rival family and fully adhered to Survival-of-the Slitheen-at-all-costs. It was either kill the Rangoreen first or be killed by them eventually. For her, the choice was not that difficult to make here.

"It seems a little risky though…" Tariq speculated.

"Nonsense. We must learn everything about our enemies and then use that knowledge against them. If the Rangoreen are complicit in aiding and abetting the Far-Right, the revelations can be utilised by the incoming British Slitheen Labour government to enact draconian measures that ordinarily these thick humans would bother opposing. The Rangoreen will actually be used to strengthen our hold on this rock." Eleanor concluded.

"I see. It's your call, El. I will not stop you." Tariq announced.

"You could never stop me anyways!" teased Eleanor of her husband. The atmosphere drastically shifted into unsubtle flirtations that distracted away the seriousness of the situation at hand.

"Mummy, what are we going to do now then?" asked Zohra.

"I am glad you asked me that, Zohra. In your human skins, you will now pay a visit to Whittaker's residency. We know that her offices possess very little use to us. Her house may provide more answers."

"Mummy, are you not coming with us?"

"No, it will probably raise suspicion if we all went. She will be glad to have someone like Diana around to bully and she will relish behaving arrogantly in front of Mr Lumumba. I will set this one out unfortunately. I do expect you to be back home on time for bed though."

The Child Slitheen and her father left for MP Whittaker's home address somewhere in London.

(An Hour Later)

The doorbell rang. Jodie Whittaker reluctantly put down her book and late night coffee before she laboured her body to the door. Who the hell was disturbing her at this time?

"Oh it's you…" she said disappointingly, seeing Dina Goddard turn up at her doorstep wholly unexpected. "What do you want?" she barked at her internee angrily. Before she could answer, the man behind her towards the left

"Hello, Miss Whittaker." called out a calm, serene and masculine voice.

"What do you want, peasant?" asked MP Whittaker ever so rudely. She then saw a tall, fat figure whom she knew well enough.

"Oh...Well, hello there, Mr Lumumba. Fancy seeing you around here at this time." she said, trying to dampen her rudeness. Lumumba did not seem to mind.

"If you will excuse me, Pat will do just nicely. We do not need to be this formal, eh? Me and this child were walking around the neighbourhood and thought it might be nice to drop by and have a nice chat about your inevitable election victory." The charm offensive put on by Tariq worked because his words inflated the ego of Jodie Whittaker. Here was another politician - her main rival, in fact - already accepting the victory of Jodie Whittaker in politics.

"I guess not. Do come in!" replied Whittaker softly, now exhibiting some warmth in her tone. A woman in her mid-thirties who had never married nor indeed had any sexual relations with any human - she was that frigid - she nonetheless secretly craved the black skin of the man. As Patrice and Whittaker sat down, Diana's stomach rumbled loudly.

"If you'll excuse me I need to go to the bathroom." said Zohra. It was a convenient ruse.

"What, don't you have access to a toilet where you live?" snapped Whittaker in complete conformity with her nasty character. "Upstairs, second door on the right, you would have to be extremely thick to miss it." she revealed somewhat mercifully.

"Thanks." Zohra departed from the living room and made her way upstairs. She did not bother with the toilet but instead went inside the other rooms, seeking to find anything that might advance intelligence regarding MP Whittaker. Meanwhile back downstairs, Jodie Whittaker and Patrice Lumumba began to converse amongst themselves, free from any interference.

"I am actually glad you came around, Pat. I don't get that many visitors, unfortunately. So you wanted to talk about my scheduled election victory, then?"

"Yes, absolutely.". His gas exchange then kicked in.

"Prrrrrrrp!...Ooooooooh-oh...that was dying to come out one way or another. The force of nature you cannot stop." Tariq justified.

"Happens to us all." remarked Whittaker, trying to stifle the awkwardness.

"Yeah erm, so about the upcoming TV debate...I think we should - oh hang on!" warned Tariq as he prepared himself to unleash more of his gas exchange.

"Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!" he released more flatulence casually.

"Pardon me, I had too many baked beans before I came. I do apologise."

"Not a problem." lied MP Whittaker, grinning through her teeth.

By this point, MP Whittaker had become very suspicious of Lumumba. He had never farted so openly and wildly like he was doing now in her previous interactions. Priding herself on being smart, the human female detected something was up. This was not the real Lumumba. More likely, it was a Slitheen posing as him.

"I think I too need to use the loo." confessed Lumumba. Tariq felt extremely suffocated inside that human suit. He needed to get naked pronto.

"Of course. Upstairs, the second door on the right - can't miss it."

"Thanks. I hope the little one has done her business already." Tariq said as he got up from the coach. Whittaker also moved from her seat.

"Whilst you're gone, I get the kettle boiling." she said innocuously.

"Yeah, erm, great idea." replied Tariq who was now on the verge of desperation. His suit was now actually starting to rip internally, that is how tight it was.

Pretending to leave the couch as the MP left, Tariq made sure that Whittaker had vacated the room for the kitchen. Upon confirmation, he happily unzipped himself. The room went dark blue as his unzipping caused the electricity to fluctuate. Now outside his human suit for the first time for quite some time, Tariq Slitheen laboured into the kitchen where he thought he would catch MP Whittaker unaware. It was going to be his first hunt for quite some time - he relished the occasion. Walking into the kitchen, he could see the female human with her back turned away from him at the sink basin. She appeared to be doing something discreetly.

"Won't be long now, Pat." She called out without turning around. She knew instinctively that Patrice Lumumba was no longer here but in fact a Slitheen was now present in her kitchen. But her tone reflected a calm, controlling demeanour. Tariq Slitheen though did not bother to exercise caution. All he saw in front of him was a seemingly vulnerable human prey that he could so easily get his claws on.

"I've been expecting you...Slitheen." Turning around, MP Whittaker confronted the Slitheen head on. Tariq began to roar loudly to scare the human before he would lash down his claws on her. But Whittaker did not seem fazed. She had realised that a Slitheen was present in the house by the constant flatulence Tariq was producing via his suit's gas exchange. The Rangoreen has tipped the MP off about how to spot a disguised Slitheen and she utilised the knowledge to devastating effect. She had prepared a vinegar bottle. Aiming it in the direction of the Slitheen confidently, she managed to force Tariq to back off. He could not stand the smell of it and roared in protest at its presence. It totally disrupted what was supposed to be a straightforward hunt.

"I think it's time you learnt some manners." She said casually. The human threw some vinegar fatefully in the direction of Tariq. It landed straight into his gaping mouth as he roared, leaving no time to close it. He immediately stumbled before his whole body reacted to the acidic substance. Unleashing a loud fart, Tariq blew up on the spot. MP Whittaker and her entire kitchen became covered with Slitheen goo. Upstairs, inside a bedroom, Zohra felt an incredibly sharp pain in her stomach. It lasted for a good few moments before disappearing. "Shit, something has gone wrong." whispered Zohra to herself, realising that the mission had become compromised. Slowly and cautiously, she exited the bedroom and made her way downstairs nonchalantly. Across the capital, Eleanor also felt the same sharp pain as she was baking herself a cake. It signified the death of a family member.

"Oh no...Tariq!" she cried out.

MP Whittaker walked around to where Tariq had been standing. Only some parts of his short feet survived the blast. Bending down, Whittaker picked up some Slitheen residue goo with her finger and grossly put it in her mouth. She rather enjoyed the taste of her victim.

"Yummy." she remarked post-tasting. It was yet another indicator of how mentally sick she was.

Nobody was in the main living room. Using her nostrils, Zohra guided herself to the kitchen. It was a horrible sight. The dead remains of her father were splattered all over the place. Worse, MP Whittaker was staring at her suspiciously.

"Erm…" began Zohra, not knowing what to say. Whittaker did not say anything for a few moments. But normal service eventually resumed.

"Well?" asked the MP, sounding greatly irritated.

"Well, what?" asked Zohra with hesitancy. Did Whittaker know she was a Slitheen too?

"Clean this mess up at once!" barked the MP at her internee. It appeared that Whittatker did not yet know. Zohra realised then and there that she had to use it to her advantage.

"What happened?" asked Zohra innocently.

"A Slitheen tried to kill me. But I ended his pathetic existence." She held up a bottle of vinegar. "Put some of this stuff on those green monsters and watch them explode!" The MP cackled wildly as she revelled in her triumph. She had done what very few humans could boast off: successfully killing an adult male Slitheen and live to tell the tale.

"Isn't that an illegal substance? I thought the government had disposed of all acidic substances in this country? Where did you get your hands on that?" questioned Zohra intensely, trying to maintain an aura of innocence. Of course, she knew all about Whittaker and the vinegar in advance.

"Shut up, you annoying brat. You don't need to know anything. I'm going for a shower now. When I come back, I expect this kitchen to be spotless." .Whilst MP Whittaker went for a shower to purify her body, Zohra prepared herself. She disposed of all the vinegar she could find hidden inside the house. When Whittaker finally came back down, she astounded to see her intern servant standing confidently

"Are you so thick that you can't follow a simple instruction? You're fired!" yelled the MP in anger.

"Thank you. I've been waiting to be free for quite some time." As soon as Zohra spoke, she farted quite loudly. This was the first time she did it openly in front of the MP, who now feared the worst.

"W-wait…no. Y-you, you can't possibly b-be…." she said exasperated. Zohra Slitheen wasted little time. Pushing her loose fringe away from her forehead, she pulled back her zip and began to unmask. It happened within a minute; Zohra liberated herself rapidly from her Diana costume.

"I am the Child of the British Slitheen. You killed my father. Now I will avenge him." Growling furiously, Zohra leapt on top of the human female and tried to exact a hasty revenge. Although she was small for her age, her body weight successfully pinned down Whittaker, who screamed as she tried to move away desperately.

"Filthy human. You will pay for what you have done!" declared an apoplectic Zohra. She increased the grip of her claws on the human's neck with yet more intensity. Whittaker automatically began to stretch out her hands to see if anything could get her out of this predicament whilst she screamed wildly. Death was now a common spectre in this kitchen, it seemed.

Stretching for a pan nearby on top of the cooker, Whittaker was able to reverse the tables. Whacking it firmly on the Child Slitheen's bald, round head, the human was able to break free from the choke hold. Zohra then tried to chase her around the kitchen but Whittaker somehow managed to pull out another bottle of vinegar and aimed it instantly in the direction of Zohra. She gasped upon seeing it, having thought that she had earlier disposed of all vinegar bottles in the house. Clearly, Whittaker had taken her precautions well. The Child Slitheen no longer dared to approach the human; the smell of vinegar alone was repulsive. Whittaker cackled maniacally having effectively gained the upper hand. Now she began to steadily back up Zohra against a wall.

"Your kind will go extinct. I will pour the vinegar down each and every single one of you. Britain is for the British alone! Humans! No aliens allowed. I will make sure of that!" screamed the MP hysterically as she shook the vinegar bottle. Zohra curled up inside of herself, absolutely afraid. She was on the verge of death. Just as soon as MP Whittaker was about to shoot the vinegar in the direction of the Child, she felt a heavy tap on her right shoulder. Turning around instinctively, Whittaker saw a large adult Slitheen poised to strike her down with her right claw already raised.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!" screamed Whittaker during her last breaths. With a fearsome roar, the Slitheen rained down her claw upon the human female, ending her reign of tyranny once and for all. It was Eleanor Slitheen who had arrived in the nick of time to save her child from exploding like her husband Tariq.

"Mummy?...Mummy I'm so glad you're here!" Zohra exclaimed as she ran to embrace her mother. Being with her mother now was the safest place to be at this moment.

"It's alright, my child. There is no reason to be scared now." comforted Eleanor as she embraced her daughter with a tight hug. She looked around the kitchen, horrified to see her husbands' remains splattered everywhere. How could this have happened on her watch, she bemoaned silently inside her consciousness to herself.

"Mummy, Daddy is dead. The stupid human killed him." said Zohra bitterly. Eleanor would now be left to raise her child as a single-parent. The Slitheen had a strict no-marriage rule for those Slitheen whose spouses suffered a dishonourable fate at the hands of non-Slitheen.

"I know, I know." Eleanor replied, bitter at the fact that her husband had been killed out of negligence. She felt partly to blame by not coming along in the first place. Being the widow of someone who had been vinegar-ed by an inferior species was the ultimate embarrassment a Slitheen could undergo. She was dreading how she would have to face other family members in the coming future. The insults and mockery would be intense.

"Mummy, Daddy is gone. Forever." commented Zohar who now realised the full implication of her fathers death.

"Yes he is gone. That is life," Eleanor began lecturing her daughter, "but you must remember the family code: a Slitheen who is killed by an inferior opponent deserves to be killed. Tariq was a loyal husband but he lacked caution. We underestimated our enemy. Miss Whittaker was a smart human female, certainly. Like me once upon a time, she clearly resented living amongst fellow humans. She wanted out from this rock, I can tell." Eleanor surmised before falling silent once more.

"What are we going to do now then, mummy?" asked Zohra, uncertain now about the future. She looked to her mother to provide much needed guidance.

"We stick to the plan. I will wear the skin of the one who murdered my husband. And I will enjoy every moment of it." said Eleanor, trying to hold back the tears. "You will continue to wear the skin of Miss Diana Goddard. Let us first focus on the elections first and then afterwards we will deal with the Rangoreen issue, okay?"

"Okay Mummy."

After half an hour, Eleanor Slitheen had successfully converted human MP Jodie Whittaker into a skin suit. It was for once paradoxically very satisfying and saddening to wear the body of the murderer of her husband. Awkwardness had reached new levels. Zohra had already got inside her Diana Goddard skin minutes earlier with little effort. It was a somber moment for the two Slitheen.

"Ready? Off we pop."

The two left the MP's residency casually and headed back to their own home elsewhere in London.

(On Election Day)

"It is a resounding victory for MP Jodie Whittaker who retains her seat despite the vast losses her party has incurred elsewhere." began the political news correspondent outside the town hall where MP Whittaker successfully retained her Conservative seat. Upon confirmation of her triumph, Whittaker left the hall for outside where she wanted to speak to some reporters.

"Here she comes now. Miss Whittaker, first of all congratulations. And secondly, what does this victory mean to you and this country?

"Just a moment, I am still getting used to the gas exchange in this suit...prrrrp! Much better. Now, where were we? Oh yes. Personally, I am over the moon. Thrilled to have retained my seat. It means that the British public in my constituency get the representation that they so earnestly wanted.".

"And of course, the question has to be asked now seeing as the Labour party have achieved a resoundingly large parliamentary majority to govern this nation, what remains now for the Conservative Party?"

"Of course, I cannot speculate on the future. We will just have to regroup and assess our options...prrrrrp! Oh deary me, I can't help myself today." she giggled as she mocked her interlocutor's ignorance via her gas exchange.

"Will it take years if not decades for the Tories to regain power? This election also appeared to be a silent referendum in so far as Labour is predominantly the party of the Left and what that spectrum stands for."

"Not at all. The Labour Party has achieved a significant result, for sure. Congratulations to them. But the Conservative Party is a mainstay of the political scene in our glorious country. We will always be relevant." commented the Conservative MP modestly. She did not show any signs of bitterness but instead adopted a calm posture throughout the interview intersped with flatulence.

"And lastly, what do you think about the newly-elected Labour government that will shortly enter power? It has been widely rumoured that they will propose a nation-wide referendum that will finally seek to establish whether or not the British Slitheen are to be accepted as equals to humans in this country. Your thoughts?"

MP Whittaker now turned directly towards the cameras and monitor screens.

"I would like now to speak to my supporters and those who sincerely desire to deal with the…'problem' (she was alluding to the British Slitheen in coded fashion). Rest assured that I will fight for your rights. Britain is a country for humans and humans alone. To those hard working class boys and girls that are regularly exploited by the power elite that seem to have no accountability, rest assured: I will fight in your corner. To my fellow female kind, I will ensure that your rights are not only protected but expanded in all areas of life. To the non-whites in my constituency, I will do my utmost to ensure that your rights are protected. No Slitheen will be allowed to live in our constituency irrespective of any rumoured referendum. Because we know that they are violent, uncivilised brutes that require extermination. They are not British. They are immigrant invading aliens; the primary source of all the problems this country is it be liberalism, mass unemployment, high pregnancy rates, a nanny welfare state - all the ills you can name on the spot, the Slitheen are the sole instigators of it. They need to be held responsible and by God, I shall spend the next five years striving for that. Any MP - Conservative, Labour and otherwise - willing to join forces with me and others (referring to the Far-Right) in this likeminded cause will be welcomed wholeheartedly. The time to take action to save our country is now. Britain is our home. And we will defend it at all costs...prrrrp! Thank you."

The press began to scream questions at the ignoring MP Whitaker as she smiled to the masses observing her before disappearing inside a black sedan organised by some British Slitheen security firm. The car immediately sped off down the street and after making a sharp right turn, disappeared completely out of sight.

(The Next Day at the British Parliament)

All 650 MPs gathered in the House of Commons. Parliament was ablaze with bright, loud chatter and conversation. The atmosphere in the country felt almost revolutionary. Big changes were soon to be taking place.

"The Right Honourable Gentlemen there." said the Speaker, indicating the Labour leader of the opposition and Prime-Minister-in-waiting, Jeremy Saxons.

"Thank you, Mr Speaker. As I announced publicly yesterday, if the Labour party would achieve a significant majority in these elections, then there would be significant changes due to occur in the nation. One may even describe them as 'radical' changes. And so indeed, I would like to set out some of our immediate promises that we intend to make good on once our power is officially confirmed to reside with us." began the newly-elect Prime Minister, supported by rapacious cheers from his Labour MPs either besides or behind him. Apart from him, everyone else in the Commons was a Slitheen posing as an MP. The family now possessed the power to rule the country.

"We cannot of course begin without mentioning the British Slitheen. Since the family heads kindly revealed their existence to our ignorant human society, it has created massive ripples that have shocked our foundations of knowledge and experiences. We realised that alien life does indeed exist. But of course, the British Slitheen are not really aliens; they are our family, our brothers, our friends, colleagues and the like. It has remained a considerable injustice that despite these revelations which occurred decades ago, the British Slitheen still have not been granted formal recognition. Can we British humans seriously live with ourselves while denying fellow Brits the same right to life, peace and prosperity that we often take for granted?.". Some boos could be heard immediately after those remarks. MP Whittaker merely smirked as she performatively yelled a few jeers alongside her fellow Tory MPs, also fellow Slitheen.

"And that is why I announce to all present here and to those watching us around the nation and indeed the world: yes, we will be holding a referendum on the status of the British Slitheen. The rumours are true, and I earnestly pray that the British humans accept the British Slitheen as their own kin! Amen." concluded the deluded liberal human Prime Minister. This is precisely why the family heads wanted him in power - the thick human would do the Slitheen bidding for them. The Slitheen had already won the fight without having to raise a claw. The whole House burst into excitement with a few jeers from the Conservative Slitheen MPs associated with the Far-Right, who merely performed their villainy roles to keep up appearances.

"Order, order!" howled the Speaker of the Commons, attempting to restore some semblance of authority in the center of power in Britain. Oftentimes, it felt like having to control a classroom of feral children. The debates continued to go on for hours although most of the Parliament now hosted British Slitheen hiding inside British human skins. They all argued in favour of holding the referendum now. Towards the end of the tedious session, the newly-elect PM tabled a motion to the House, calling for a formal referendum regarding the British Slitheen and their right to exist and live in Britain as equal members. The Speaker confirmed the outcome.

"The ayes to the right, 632. The no's to the left, 18. So the ayes have, the ayes have it. Unlock!" bellowed the Speaker. The numbers accurately reflected the numerical and democratic majority that the British Slitheen had murderously and deceitfully managed to secure for themselves in the build up to these elections. Democracy was merely a stepping stone for the British Slitheen. The family heads intended to introduce an open dictatorship of sorts once their hegemony reached an appropriate stage. And Britain was just the first step; soon the entire globe would become colonised by the British Slitheen.

The British human nation was shocked and polarised across the board. With the new Left-leaning Labour government now waiting to gain power formally and officially, time was running out for the opponents of the British Slitheen to impose their demands and enact resistance. This new reality prompted some 'radical' elements of the Far-Right to mobilise across the country. The time to act to save Britain and its white population was now or never.

Meanwhile, at a post-election afterparty involving all MPs somewhere in London, Eleanor and Zohra arrived with a police escort disguised in their respective skin suits. They arrived shortly after the defeated current Prime Minister and victorious Labour leader were ushered into a room together before some Slitheen males struck them down and turned them into skin suits. Eleanor and her inner family began to mingle in with their other guests. Zohra stayed by Eleanor's side at all times and watched the two politicians re-emerge from that room after half an hour; farting casually and mingling with their Slitheen brothers and sisters. Sticking by themselves at a table, Eleanor and Zohra began to soak in the Slitheen victory albeit silently depressed by the recent death of their husband and father. The family now officially controlled Britain. That meant that pretty soon the entire world would come under their rule. They still had a part to play in securing this domination, with or without Tariq.

After some time, a mysterious stranger appeared at the party. She walked with verve but did not seem particularly interested in talking to anyone. That was until she crept up behind Eleanor and Zohra who had their backs turned away from her.

"Congratulations on your win, dear sister!" called out a voice from behind. It sounded familiar to Eleanor, who turned around instinctively.

"Ey?.." she croaked. In front of her eyes stood an average-sized White British human female. She was in her late forties or early fifties as her wrinkles on her neck were demonstrating. With blonde, brown-coated hair, and dressed in an immaculate jet black outfit, the person made her way around to the front vision of Eleanor. The widowed Slitheen could not recognise her physically so she began to sniff vociferously to confirm her identity. After a few sniffs, Eleanor detected it was a fellow Slitheen whom she had known for years.

"Powtahana?... Powtahana! What are you doing here?!" she asked, surprised and bewildered to see Powtahana Vlax-Gard British Slitheen stand before her albeit inside a human suit. Best friends since their days at UNIT, they had a falling out years ago when on an infiltration mission to get inside a Judoon space station that was spying on the Earth. Since then, they went their separate ways. But now Powtahana had resurfaced at a rather crucial moment in British Slitheen history.

"Family business, of course, like yourself." Eleanor begrudgingly respected and feared Powtahana. Like her, this Slitheen sister had long set sights on becoming a family head. She had shown on multiple occasions in the past her mean streak, even killing fellow Slitheen family members who dared to get in her way. Eleanor thus approached the conversation with caution.

"And who is this magnificent skin that you are wearing, if I may ask?" Eleanor complimented though she was not really sincere with her words.

"Yvonne Hartman. Director of Torchwood. Two years in the making….prrrrrp!...That one was stuck in my left ass cheek for days. So glad to finally relieve myself." remarked

"Torchwood? I thought UNIT caused that institution to shut down years ago?"

"It did...until the family repurposed it recently. No longer investigating aliens from abroad, under our family leadership, Torchwood now investigates humankind who are the real aliens that need to be kicked off this rock if they do not want to go extinct voluntarily." revealed Powtahana alongside her complete disdain for humankind.

She could never perceive any co-existence with them, in Britain and across the globe. Earth, in her view, belonged solely to Slitheen by dint of being the naturally superior predators. Humans would have to go, whether by extinction or forced migration to another planet - whatever would facilitate this the best. A master manipulator, Powtahana knew exactly how to play the Left and Far-Right humans against each other, leaving them exposed to the British Slitheen. The family hierarchy had long acknowledged Powtahana's brilliant strategic mind that could advance the family business quicker and with greater profits. Consequently, Powtahana was unanimously elected to lead a revived Torchwood. (Anyone who objected to her leadership, Powtahana silently killed them off herself in seemingly mysterious circumstances.).

"Interesting!" remarked the Slitheen Prime Minister of Britain who had overheard the conversation and decided to drop by Angela, Eleanor and Zohra. The Torchwood leader continued her intimate conversation with Eleanor regardlessly.

"How is Tariq, dear? I haven't seen him for ten years. It's been so long since I hugged him…" teased Angela cruelly, knowing full well that he violently exploded to his death a day or two earlier.

"Don't you dare talk about my husband!" snapped back Eleanor, holding back her anger. . Clearly, there was some hidden history that involved more than these two Slitheen sisters.

"It's a shame he was killed...yes, obviously I felt his death at the same time as you." Powtahana commented now with some sadness. "Still, being vinegar-ed by a lowlife human is pathetic. He deserved his death. And now, you can find someone better to be with." concluded Powtahana coldly.

"Right, that's it! Take your skin off. Let's settle old scores right here, right now!" bellowed Eleanor vociferously at her counterpart. The commotion attracted the attention of all Slitheen present. She now felt rather embarrassed by her outburst and retracted into herself. Powtahana maintained her confident posture combined with a devious smile. Eleanor was playing along to her strings like a puppet. Like a true megalomaniac, Powtahana desired to control everyone and everything she came across. Her Will-to-Power drive directed every minute of her existence.

"Ahem...can we get down to serious matters?" asked the Prime Minister, somewhat attempting to play peacemaker, now inhabited by a fellow Slitheen. He seemed to be already somewhat aware of Powtahana's presence and the plans she had in mind.

"Still so feisty, El! I always loved that about you. I consider you my equal. You and you alone. Nobody else has come close. I just want you to know that." declared Powtahana.

Eleanor was still seething at the earlier remarks. Now changing her tone, Angela began to compose herself seriously, discussing her Torchwood-related work.

"Okay, let's move onto the family business - yawn! Recent Torchwood Intelligence states that some groups associated with the Far-Right are planning terrorist attacks across Britain against the family. Massive stocks of vinegar and malt are being moved in vans. We fear there will be multiple attacks on our kind if we do not stop them. And the Rangoreen are known to be involved"

"Dear God, no!" cried the Slitheen Prime Minister in shock. It was very theatrical but suited the occasion befittingly.

"How did you know about the Rango-"

"Well, I could easily just as well ask why did you try and hide their presence these last few days, ey?" interjected Powtahana once more undercutting her Slitheen sister. Eleanor at this point felt silent. She was being humiliated by Powtahana deliberately. But she could not defend herself here. Her old friend was showing her up publicly.

"Silly, naive El. Torchwood knows about the Rangoreen because we have let them in, unknown to them. A top secret move approved by the family hierarchy themselves; UNIT hasn't a clue. We have been monitoring their every move. All intelligence indicates that the vermin race intends to settle on Earth and grow their rat families and Rakweed farms on this rock. Not on my watch." Powtahana declared proudly. She would defend Britain with all her might against any foreign invaders.

"And erm, how do you intend to remove the Rangoreen threat?" asked the Slitheen Prime Minister who did not appear to be too well informed.

"Not to worry, Prime Minister. We have our best men and women on the case." Powtahana replied reassuringly. She now turned her attention back to Eleanor.

"Dear sister, you must take full advantage of your human skin and find out where these vinegar stockpiles are located. The fate of the family now lies solely in your hands." announced Powtahana to her fellow Slitheen sister rather ominously.

"Anything for the family." declared Eleanor. She continued to engage in a staring contest with Powtahana. Something did not sit right. Why had Powtahana decided to resurface now? Who had given her unparalleled command at Torchwood? Regardless, she could not refuse the call of duty. The family was clearly in danger.

"I and Torchwood will gladly assist you in every way possible. We will hunt down these troublesome humans and restore law and order to this country once and for all." declared Powtahana confidently. She did not really seem fazed by the supposed threats to the Slitheen family that her own intelligence gathered by Torchwood had provided her. She kept her eyes unmoved on Eleanor. It had been so long since the two had last met.

"The sooner, the better." uttered Eleanor dryly. She was not all convinced by Powtahana's intelligence. Something else was afoot, she could detect it intuitively.

"And you, little one", began Powtahana now directing her attention to Zohra on the left side of Eleanor with a beaming smile, "you will play a very important role for us all." announced the Slitheen woman ominously whilst retaining a devious smile. Zohra began to wonder where she fit in the grand scheme of things...

The End.

(Part 2 coming soon…)