Now it's plump helmet men. What cheerful, friendly creatures. They really want into my fort. I can't leave any access to the caverns open, they charge my fort. Not in a violent way. In an overly gregarious way, "Hey dwarves! What's up? What's cooking? That smells good, mind if I come in? I'll only stay a while, promise! These thrones are awesome, dude, so comfortable, we don't have chairs, haha, we just sit on... toadstools! Get it? Get it? get it? Why aren't you laughing? Hey while you're up can you get me a plump helmet roast? What? Don't look so shocked, dude, you eat mammals, I've seen you. Man, I'm just gonna chill out here for a while, you guys are cool."
So I try to practice catch-and-release, you know? And what I find funny is, a dwarf will happily lead a plump helmet man down to a pasture in the caverns. Then he lets him go and is all like "OH NO! RUN! A plump helmet man! Where'd he come from?" and the plump helmet man is like "Duuuuude, not cool, bro! Why you gotta be so cold, bro? C'mon, lemme in, I fracking hate these caverns bro! So damp, nobody knows how to cook for shit, and there's all these, like, giant three legged eyeless coyotes with two tails down here running around breathing noxious crap all over everything. Ya gotta let me in!"
I create fun stories in my head to make up for the fact that I can't catch or breed crap. It's all I got. That and my giant hamster, Wuzzles. C'mere Wuzzles, we don't need fracking war elephants or dragons, we got each other, and a bunch of copper spikes to keep us safe.