"Are we eating their babies?" asked my brain a few seconds before I would have fallen into the most blissful sleep ever achieved. Well yeah, probably. I'd explain that I'm being forced to, if I somehow could. Maybe work out a plan to smuggle them into the government/finance centre of the evil Australian feudostate, or tell them something we could... well anyway, the point is, life isn't like that most of the time. The system is not an episode of Star Trek, it's the thing that'll kill your family if you don't harvest enough crabs.

Which all sounds far more bleak than Crabmeat feels in practice. It is somewhere between an Actually Useful Job simulator and low-concentration suspense horror. It won't take more than an afternoon, and it won't wreck your nerves or demand a lot of skill or intensity. It's almost fun, in that "getting things done" way that physical work can be. The danger is manageable.

So far.

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