By Matthew Garcia-Dunn

“You want a pair of Jets?” Jet asked. His left eyebrow was arched. “My Jets?”

“My human feet lack style,” Snooker replied. “I would like to purchase a pair of your shoes. They have the precise amount of human flair that I, as a normal human, require to stand out.”

Jet was honored. He’d always wanted customers who’d line up for hours to obtain a pair of his personally branded kicks. Snooker enthusiastically told Jet all the wonderful things he’d do to show off a pair of Jets on his very normal-sized 9.5 human feet.

But there was one chief problem. Jet looked at the Machina’s feet—or, more specifically, the lack thereof. Snooker didn’t have two feet, or even one foot. He had a spherical ball that he used to roll around. This underlined a further issue. It was taboo for anyone in Sparkadia to tell Snooker that he wasn’t human, especially since he went through absurd lengths to showcase his humanity.

“I can’t give you a pair of Jets,” Jet said.

Snooker’s holographic toupee drooped in disappointment. But it didn’t stay low for long, for Snooker knew precisely how to solve the problem.

“I get it,” the Machina said to Jet. “You do not wish to share your signature style with me. How very Human! Perhaps you could collaborate with me and design footwear bespoke to me?”

“JetxSnooker collab?” Jet nodded, with a smile. “That’s so retro. I love it.”

Last updated