Today is the day the last human dies. The papers said that the last human had, essentially, died many years earlier, but then another one was found that could bridge the gap. Today, say the papers, the last one will die... statistically. It was hard for the scientists to say for certain. They could be out there, gasp another futile breath on a lonely planet divorced from the cosmic civilization.
Paul thought all this while he ate his toasted O-shaped oatmeal. He raised a tentacle towards the cow milk, and began reading the nutrition information. Humans. It was hard to believe that he and humans shared an ancestry. They were so different looking. But they shared all the important stuff: big butts, big brains, fur, live birth, and so on. Paul's tentacles were a natural advantage after the human culture developed touch screens. It gave them much more agile appendages than those clunky FINGERS. And from there, well... Paul drifted off, thinking about Penny, who sat behind him in his prehistoric evolution class.
Penny was the most agile in class. Her tentacles could change the pips on a die faster than anyone else's. That was why he needed her to be his partner in human dissection class. Of course, all the real humans had been protected for centuries, but the holograms they dissected were particularly fragile, so Penny's skillful tentacles would be an asset.
Today was going to go exactly as he planned it.
