"...and finished." I had just completed my entry for an essay contest, earning a chance to meet Simon Seville. The contest was one of a trio, the other two being centered around Alvin and Theodore. I had put all my effort into this essay, proofreading it three times and almost rewriting it completely. The prompt was to express why Simon was your favorite chipmunk, and I had done so in painstaking detail.
I submitted my essay excitedly, hoping against the odds that I'd get to see Simon, my secret crush. There were still 2 weeks left before the deadline, though, so I figured I was in for a long wait. However, I received a letter from the contest committee three days shy of the date, along with a most unexpected parcel. My heart raced as I tore open the envelope, but sank immediately after.
Mr. Keith,
We regret to inform you that your entry has been disqualified. We cannot disclose the reason for this action, but sincerely apologize for the inconvenience and hope you enjoy Saturday's festivities.
Thank you.
The notice was heartbreaking, and they couldn't even tell my the reason for it. I sighed; I suppose I still had a package to open. Procuring a knife from the kitchen of my apartment, I carefully sliced through the tape sealing the small box. Setting the blade aside, I opened the cardboard container to find a note, a ticket, and a set of keys. Confused, I set aside the other two objects and began reading the note.
If you really want to see Simon, follow these instructions. Use the included plane ticket to take flight 444 to LA; a car will be waiting in garage A. Coordinates have been entered into the vehicle's navigation system, which will lead you to your destination. Good luck.
The note sounded a little shady to me, so I looked over a few details. First I checked the postmark, which indicated that the box had been shipped from LA a few days ago. Then I turned to the return address, which would be a telltale sign of a solicitor. For a second, my heart stopped. A neat little sticker read Simon Seville, with an address located in Beverly Hills.
That settled it for me; I had to go. Excited to meet my idol, I took the flight and made my way to the designated airport parking garage. Walking around it, I began clicking the unlock button on the car's remote, and followed the sound of a repetitive horn. I was shocked to find a yellow, 2015 Mustang GT making the noise, and a small wad of cash in the driver's seat. Using the money to pay for parking, I left the airport and followed the instructions on the car's GPS.
Eventually, I entered Beverly Hills, which wasn't a surprise. As I drove through the gleaming town, the GPS brought me to the gate of a residential area. An older gentleman stood in a tollbooth-style structure beside it, so I rolled down the window to ask a question.
"Mr. Keith?" he asked immediately, probably recognizing the car.
"How'd you know my name?" I questioned, shocked. The man smiled, ignoring the question.
"Mr. Seville has been expecting you; I suppose the GPS will point you in the right direction. Have a nice day," he responded. The gate then opened, so I reluctantly drove into the neighborhood. As I followed the GPS, I passed houses of indescribable grandeur; naturally I was quite intimidated. Soon I arrived at my destination, pulling onto a smooth driveway surrounded by a lush, spotless lawn.
Climbing out of the vehicle, I was immediately met by a man who appeared to be a butler. He stood a few inches taller than me, had dark brown hair and appeared to be in either his late 30's or early 40's. He instructed me to follow him, using as few words as possible in the process. The man then led me down a paved pathway to the front door of the massive estate, which he promptly opened.
"After you, sir," he remarked. I entered the large house, managing to take a few steps before I began to stare. The butler closed the door behind me, and snapped his fingers once to get my attention. Regaining my composure, I turned to look at his most amused face.
"Mr. Seville will meet you in the main common room, just down that hall on the right. I believe there should be a drink for you there as well," he instructed. Nodding, I walked cautiously down the hallway, taking in the fancy decor. Soon, I arrived in what I would call a living room, featuring two couches, a television, a fancy coffee table and lots of decorations. Taking a seat on one of the sofas, I noticed a drink on the table.
It appeared to be a soda, served in a glass labeled "Coca-Cola". Assuming it was some form of the titular cola, I carefully took the glass and brought it to my lips. For some reason I hesitated, but soon began to drink. It tasted nothing out of the ordinary, and soon I had downed the entire glass. Placing it back on the coffee table, I began to wonder where "Mr. Seville" was. I didn't have long to think, however, as I suddenly felt light headed. Gripping the armrest for support, I tried vainly to steady myself as everything went black.
"Ugh... what happened...?" I moaned. My head felt like I'd been hit by a Mack truck, and my tailbone was extremely sore. I sat up weakly, supporting myself with one arm. Suddenly, a glass appeared in front of me, along with a hand holding a circular pill.
"Take this, it'll help." It was the butler, and I was sure the pill was Excedrin. Taking it, I grabbed the glass and washed the pill down with some water. Handing the glass back to the butler, I froze at the sight of a furry arm extending from my body.
"Mr. Seville is waiting for you by the pool; it's just out that door across the room," the butler remarked before leaving. The words scarcely registered in my mind; I was too busy trying to comprehend what I'd just seen. I pulled off the silk sheets of the bed I'd been put in, and climbed out onto the floor. No words could describe what I felt as I examined my furry body. I was now a chipmunk just like my crush; the change likely caused by that strange soda.
As if the sudden change in species wasn't enough, I was shocked to find that I was completely naked. Looking around the room, I spotted a pair of burnt orange swim trunks on the bed, which I quickly pulled on. Deciding not to keep "Mr. Seville" waiting, I headed nervously for the door. Twisting the knob, I pulled open the wood and glass entryway to the outside world. Stepping through, I closed it behind me and turned towards the pool.
I found Simon lying on a raft in the pool, wearing a pair of sunglasses with blue lenses. A pair of blue, Speedo brand swim trunks clung to his legs, his lightly toned chest soaking up the sun. My jaw dropped at the sight; he was absolutely perfect. I was falling in love all over again. Apparently, Simon had spotted me as well, a grin appearing on his face.
"Like what you see?" he toyed. I blushed, not that you could tell.
"Y-Yeah," I stuttered.
"Well, don't just stand there, lover boy; the water's great!" Simon replied. Feeling both nervous and excited, I hastily jumped into the water. Simon shielded himself from the splash, and then slipped into the water beside me. For a moment we were silent, locking gazes through Simon's glasses. Then he spoke up.
"So, you're Austin Keith, the person behind that immaculate essay," he remarked, "Not a single grammatical error, and I must say I'm flattered by your words." I must have been red as a tomato; thank God I had fur.
"Yeah, that's me," I responded, "I'm glad you enjoyed my paper."
"I'm glad you were able to come out here," Simon added, smiling.
"So am I," I replied, "but was the whole 'changing me into a chipmunk' thing necessary?"
"I suppose not, but I figured it would make things a bit easier," Simon explained, "Honestly, I thought you'd enjoy it." I couldn't help but grin mischievously.
"I never said I wasn't. Come on, let's shoot some hoops!" I taunted. Simon smiled and grabbed a basketball that had been floating aimlessly around. The two of us began shooting at a goal perched on the edge of the pool, Simon nailing almost every shot. This was especially impressive because he was constantly wiping water off his glasses. That issue aside, Simon and I shared a fun afternoon in the sun; the butler bringing us snacks midway through. Soon, though, we were beset by fatigue and a lack of daylight.
"Perhaps it's time we got out," Simon remarked, noting the darkening sky.
"Yeah, it is getting late," I concurred. Climbing out of the pool, Simon and I were promptly given towels by the butler. Drying off, we walked over to a table situated between the pool and the house. I sat across from my host in a cushioned metal chair; the butler taking the position of a waiter. Simon looked at me through glasses that had turned clear in the dimmed light; a cheerful smile on his face.
"So, what do you want for dinner?" he asked, "The cook can make almost anything."
"Well, fajitas sound pretty good," I answered. Simon nodded and turned to the butler.
"One large order of combination fajitas and two Cokes, James," Simon ordered.
"Right away, sir," the butler responded, walking off. Simon turned his attention back to me, smiling giddily.
"So, have you enjoyed your stay so far?" he asked.
"It's been amazing, Simon," I answered, "It's literally a dream come true."
"I'm glad to hear it," Simon responded happily. We continued our conversation until the butler brought out a sizzling skillet of fajita meat, warm tortillas and all the fixings. My mouth watered just looking at it all, and I could tell Simon was just as eager to dig in.
"I'm glad we were both craving the same thing," he remarked, smiling, "Guests first."
"Thank you," I responded, grabbing a tortilla, "I'm glad we share that philosophy as well." We continued conversing happily as we ate some of the best fajitas I'd ever had. Once we finished, Simon led me back to the room I'd awoken in earlier.
"Clearly we both need a shower, and afterwards I suppose we can play some video games before bed," he remarked.
"That sounds great, Simon," I replied, smiling
"Alright, then, let's get started," he responded, grinning cheekily. Before I could object, Simon dragged me into the room's adjoining bathroom, walking over to a shower door embedded in the chamfered left-rear corner. My bespectacled host slid his glasses onto the bathroom counter as he walked, never once releasing his grip on my forearm. Soon we were inside the shower, a gasp escaping my mouth as Simon turned on the water.
The shower was like a small room, completely enclosed with walls of smooth, ornate stone. The floor was made of similar material, and bowed slightly down to accommodate a drain in the middle. Along with the main shower head, there must have been at least ten jets of water, thoroughly soaking my fur. It was like a soothing massage, washing away all the troubles of the day. Simon clearly enjoyed it as well; soft moans of pleasure escaping his muzzle.
I was admittedly hesitant to remove my swim trunks, but Simon didn't have to coax me much to get them off. Soon, we were both naked, our bodies close together as we scrubbed shampoo into each other's fur. Much to my embarrassment, I could feel myself growing hard as we bathed. Thankfully, Simon was just as aroused. Our faces were scarlet by the time we'd finished cleaning up, but yet we didn't shy away. In fact, we did just the opposite.
Slowly, we leaned in, pausing with only a few short inches between us. I could feel Simon's breath on my face; his sweet, honey-like scent intoxicating me. Finally, we closed the gap; our lips meeting in a soft kiss. We separated after only a few seconds, looking nervously at each other. Neither of us showed any hint of rejection, though, so before long we'd locked lips again. Never before had I felt so head-over-heels in love.
We finally separated a couple minutes later, ready to leave the shower. After shutting off the water and ensuring that the soap was back where it belonged, Simon turned to me with a look of excitement on his face.
"This is my favorite part," he remarked, leading me out an opening I hadn't seen before. "You might want to close your eyes," he added a second later. Suddenly, a bunch of powerful fans came on as we walked through, like at the end of a car wash. My wet fur was quickly dried, only a scant few drops of water remaining. Once through the fans, we turned a corner and found ourselves back in the main bathroom.
"That is way cool," I remarked, awestruck. Simon grinned.
"Yeah; no better way to dry all this fur," he responded. Grabbing his glasses, Simon led me into the bedroom and over to a stained, wooden dresser.
"Your clothes won't fit anymore, but fortunately for you, I prepared for this," Simon remarked. He pulled open a drawer, revealing underwear and socks folded neatly. The socks were all the same, plain white with grey heels and toes. The underwear, on the other hand, were rather surprising in design. They were briefs, white with two different colors of waistband and seams. Half were blue, and half were orange.
"The orange ones are yours, as is anything else orange you can find," Simon remarked, grabbing a blue pair. I grabbed an orange pair, shutting the drawer before pulling them on. They were soft, comfortable cotton and featured an elastic tailhole in the back. Once he had pulled on his own pair, Simon opened another drawer, this one full of nightshirts.
"I hope you find the selection to your liking," he remarked, grabbing a shirt for himself. I looked through the orange shirts and was thoroughly surprised by what I found. The garments featured designs for some of my favorite things, including Denny Hamlin, the Texas Longhorns, and more. Pulling one on at random, I turned to see Simon already in bed, an Xbox One controller in his hands. Walking over, I climbed in beside him and picked up another controller he'd left waiting for me.
Meanwhile, a large HDTV rose from the foot of the bed, and an unseen Xbox One powered on. Simon and I began what turned into a 3 hour funfest, our video game frenzy not stopping until 1 in the morning. At that point we finally shut off the Xbox; the TV lowering back into the footboard. Simon took my controller and put it away with his, after which we returned to the bathroom to take care of our dental hygiene.
Ready for a much needed night's sleep, Simon and I climbed back in bed. My bespectacled crush set his glasses aside on his bedside table; a nightly ritual I was all too familiar with. At long last, we were together under the sheets, our faces inches apart for the second time that night. I stared into Simon's bright, blue eyes; two shining jewels I'd always longed to see.
"I love you..." The words were almost involuntary. A blush spread across my face as I hastily attempted to explain myself. Simon pressed a finger to my lips, however, silencing me immediately.
"I love you, too," he responded, pulling me into a kiss. All was forgotten as the embrace intensified; our love for each other expressed with extreme passion. It wasn't long before we separated, however; both of us breathing heavily. Exhausted from a long afternoon together, we snuggled up under the sheets as sleep began to overtake us. Nuzzling each other tiredly, we closed our eyes and drifted to sleep in each other's arms.