Working as a delivery being for the alien community isn’t just about delivering packages—it’s about navigating a labyrinth of strange, sometimes dangerous, and often uncomfortable situations. The job, however, has its perks. High pay, access to rare alien goods, and the freedom of working for oneself. But with every delivery, there are risks. Sometimes, these risks go beyond the job’s natural hazards and lead to hostile encounters with rival delivery factions or the peculiar alien species I work with.

One of the most common threats? Time. Being late is a serious violation. The app I use tracks every delivery, every second. If I’m late—even by a minute—the app issues a notification: "Delivery status delayed. Prepare for consequences." That’s when the real trouble starts. My watch, a high-tech device that monitors both the delivery and my physical state, will start nagging me in a soothing yet menacing tone. “You are 30 minutes late. We must stimulate your legs. It’s been a long time since you’ve run.” That’s when things get interesting. The "stimulation" usually means I get injected with some sort of chemical or hit with an energy pulse that forces me to move faster, despite the rubbery, sluggish feeling in my limbs.

This is when the real challenge begins. The competitors, particularly the Goldars, are more than happy to take advantage of my misfortune. Their tactics are devious In those moments of chaos, my focus must remain clear. If I allow myself to be overwhelmed by distractions, the app will punish me further, adding time to my mission or worse, docking my pay. Some rivals will even offer me a “quick fix” to help me with the situation—unwelcome “gifts” I take pride in my independence. I don’t work for anyone else. My profits are mine. And though the job may come with its share of bizarre, unnerving encounters, I always make sure that, in the end, I’m the one who wins. Carnavors find humans really cute but hurbavors find us scary. open your door dash like app to start to learn about your delivery mission