CHAPTER VII
Hedgehogs, Ducks, and More Ducks,
'Picture a field of flowers, far away from all civilization, nothing but long grass, howling wind, colorful blossoms, a river at the base of a hill, and the sun, shining brightly overhead, kissing those below with its rays. Imagine that it is the best day of your life, the day when you are to be united with the one person you love, as he stands there in his naked beauty (we're hedgehogs, we don't wear clothes, okay?!). You see his luscious black fur, streaked with crimson, eyes bright and bloodshot from lack of sleep. He's the most gorgeous person you know... Now, are you a guy? Well, if you are, imagine you're gay, if you're not, image you're a gay guy... Anyway, picture a pink hedgehog standing before the both of you, smiling happily as she marries you in a field... She's a pastor from some church, by the way. Anyhow, it's the best day of your life, kay? You think it will last forever. And for a while, it's perfect. Then something goes wrong... And you break up... And your whole world comes crashing down... Now imagine that field again, only this time, it's dark and gray, and the wind is trying to rip you apart. Imagine standing there, looking at the sky, wondering where you went wrong... But it's too late. And all you can do, is drown in your own misery, and become the hero you were meant to be.'
Sonic the Hedgehog,
Hero of Mobius,
Diary Entry 35
Sun, Feb 6, 1994
"Gosh Darn it!" Sonic's voice shrilled out amongst the chill of perfect night. The sky was completely black, and by the overly bright porch-lights of one of the 'campground' attendees, you could see no stars. The blue heroic saviour fell to the ground again, his palm firmly adhered to the single in-tact stone of an old sidewalk. "Curse you Shadow.." he muttered, staring back into his own likeness painted in great detail on the old slab of concrete.
His breath came through his teeth in raspy staggering sputters, his eyes danced upwards, and he hastily peeled the goggles from his face with his free hand. Admitting defeat, Sonic let out his air, a horrible ending sigh, and he lay down in the dirt, waiting for someone to find him. One last time with his eyes closed, he yelled out at the top of his lungs. "I'm still here!" with no hint of enthusiasm.
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Hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, Shadow Darkspot hurried fastly towards the village limits. Day had ended, and the old clock-tower rang out the bells of midnight as the middle-aged fellow headed home. "I gotsa get home before the peeople find me yaknow?" he hurried faster, and reaching back momentarily to pat the bacci further into his quills, Shadow Elliot Darkspot turned a sharp corner and off of main-street.
"Baybay i'm comin home!" his vocal folds, enveloping his uvula, splattered out in regards to his lonely 'campground' and the comfy armchair waiting there for him. Murdering the sidewalk with his large legs, Shadow pulvarised onward towards the place. Buildings went by, apartment complexes swam past, and soon he arrived to the fence which held back the city from the sand of the shore.
There he stopped, and delicately placed his left leg over the fence. "Ok good.." he mumbled, and carefully lifted the other leg, "Allright there we go.." he whispered. Then, he resumed his psychotic race back to the boondocks.
Holding firmly onto his hips, Shadow Darkspot swooped around a palm tree and accidentally fell face-first into the sand due to being naturally unbalanced as a member of the male gender. He landed Just feet away from the solemn 'campground', feeling sore all over."Oh god no..." he looked up, a fistfull of sand and a facefull of regret. the bright lights from his tenants porch shone on his sweaty face, causing sand to stick to his hair and making him look more and more like a penguin. Shadow scrambled as fast as he could to his feet, which wasn't very fast, And brushed himself off feeling more drowsy then ever. He took four steps closer to his house, but fell face first into the sand once more, only 3.89.00 feet away from the sidewalk. "No!" he coughed out, crawling with his fists, until he lay just barely over the line of stones which bordered the 'campground' on all sides.
To be or not to be...
"Now, I know this is pretty awkward, but it is my fault that you're mortally wounded, so I INSISIT that you stay with me for the night." The large polar bear nodded firmly, proud of HIMSELF for being so assertive. He kicked open the door to his posh mobile home and helped the stumbling cat up the steps.
"Nuh," the cat disagreed disgruntledly. "I can't stay wit you... I WON'T stay with you!" He pulled away and stumbled down the steps, grateful that his bottom was plump enough to cushion his fall. He stood and pointed an accusing finger at the bear, waggling it back and FORTH. "You're right! It is you're fault I'm in such a state of disarray!" He nodded profoundly and turned to leave, momentarily forgetting to do his strange shuffle. When he realized that he was walking like a normal creature, he was struck with a sudden moment of clarity. "Gasp! That wiki article was a lie! I've been miserable all day since I started following its instructions! But now that I've stopped, my mind has become clear once more!" Then he paused. "But what if it wasn't a lie, and the effects just don't sink in until awhile later? Perhaps I've reached the point in time in which the benefits become apparent! And as for my misery, it must be a side effect of changing my life! After all, no pain no gain!" He nodded again and smiled. That was sound reasoning. But how could he have ever thought anything else? He was such a logical fellow by nature.
"Um, large cat?" the polar questioned slowly, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Big looked at him and smiled hugely.
"The name's Big!" he said with renewed vigor. He looked down at the bear's shuffling feet, clucking his tongue with disapproval. "That's not the way..." Then he looked up again and smiled brightly. "But, if we're having a sleepover, I can show you the real way to shuffle!" The polar's face lit up, and the two 'friends' stumbled into the trailer, chattering about the wisdom of samurai...
To be gay and not know it, or to know it and not show it...
Singing birds, glaring sunlight, the day had started anew. Jackson looked up from his half-slumber, shaking the grogginess from his pantless form. "Gasp! Pantless?" he looked down and found it to be so. "Oh, no..." he rushed to the bathroom, finding his clothes to still be in the washer. "I must have dosed off before the cycle finished..." He sighed and tossed them hurriedly into the dryer, slamming his FINGER into the buttons to put it on for an HOUR. The hybrid creature sighed and slumped against the machine, combing his fingers through his thick mane. "I just hope they get done before..." he gasped loudly and looked at the clock. "Oh dang it! They won't be done before the Mcduckie's breakfast bar closes!" He rushed about his home, searching desperately for a pair of bottoms, only to come up empty handed. He began to panic, unable to calm his racing thoughts. "What can I do? Canceling isn't an option! I absolutely refuse to eat anything else for breakfast! But I can't go there without pants! They'll kick me out!" And then his gaze landed on the Mexican blanket he kept on his couch... He straightened to his full height and puffed his chest out bravely. "A gorillion's got to do, what a gorillion's got to do..." He lifted the blanket in shaking hands and began to wrap it around his thick waist...
;:...
You COULD hear the sounds of work and conversation coming from the back rooms of Mcduckie's bar as workings filed here AND there, and customers moved around and about by the tables, accompanied by the noisy people waiting in line. It was awfully BUSY this morning, and Jackson stood behind 8 other people who had come for some CHEAP, low-qaulity food to start the day off with. 'I mean, be serious'.. Jackson reasoned. 'they've got to PAY the workers, and if they can profit off of a 50 cent meal, then that must be some horrible quality food you're getting..' . He didn't care very much though, it was convenient and COST efficient, so he hurried forward quickly as a female finished her order and went to SIT down with her fluffy air-filled 'food'. Jacksons hand's began to fidget as he stood there. His mouth watering and his leg thumping up and down. Like an addict getting ready for their next hit.
The smell of grease and fried objects was nearly overwhelming as a CLOUD of smoke came wafting through the ROOM and making everyone SWOON.. Er, COUGH for at least a minute. And the noise of sizzling gravy and other various liquids filled the area and made it very hard TO hear the sound of anything other THAN that.
Just then! Jacksons blanket fell OFF his body from all the nervous fidgeting, revealing his large, ROUND, furry butt which was SUPER smooth and had a deep DEFINED crack on it.
The guy behind him GaSpEd. "Oh Em JeE!" Jacksy exclaimed, popping down FAST and lifting the thing back UP. He nervously looked behind him as he re-fastened the blanket, and rapidly said to the male standing behind him, "Oh sir I'm so sorry about that!" he frowned in red embarrassment and became impatient for the line to move FORWARD. He instantly regretted his choice of clothing for the morning.. perhaps if he wasn't so addicted to the cheap 'FOOD' he would have spent a little more time looking for pants.
"You serious doude?!" the guy SAID ferociously, he put his hand on Jackson's shoulder and yanked him back around. "I saw your BUTT guy!" he stomped his foot and cursed himself three times in less than a second. The crowd moved back a good foot on either end. "You think thats OKAY!?" he asked, Jackson folded his face in the guys general direction. "No of course NOT!" he snapped back, "It was an accident.. I said I'M sorry." He began to turn around again, but the guy, a large white and silver fellow, screamed. Quite literally.
"OH MY GOD I CANNOT LET THIS GO!" He punched the floor this time, causing the rest of the line to begin yelling various and sweaty things at him, drawing concerned glances from the workers behind the bar. "Look whats going on here?" one person asked, coming up from the back of the line. The silver duude began sobbing, his face falling into HIS bird-hands (which were bruised from punching the floor) as he lamented. "This GUY is advertising his BUTT! he thinks that its OKAY to do things like THAT!" Jackson sighed, turning around again slowly. "I never SAID that, You idiot!" he barked, "I apologized! Okay?!" an awkward silence followed suit.
Just then the manager came out from behind the bar. The manager, a large crocodile with three horns coming out of his face, looked directly at Jackson as if he was his own son who had just disappointed him to the greatest extent. He saw the crying customer, and Jackson's disturbed face. He sighed a big sigh, and he said to Jackson, "Sir I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Immediately." then he glanced down just a bit. "and take your big butt with you." he grinned.
HAAAAAAAAA
Bean awoke with a scream, temporarily thinking his name was 'Ben.' But that was silly. His name was BEAN and he had awoken with a SCREAM, but that wasn't that unusual. It would have been totally weird AND frightening if he had awoken silently. In fact, Sticks would have been freaking out if she didn't wake up with flailing limbs because her 'brother' wasn't the cause of her premature waking. But back to the point...
Bean had awoken with a scream, so the next step was to figure out why he was screaming. OH wait, because he was Bean. Right, that explained it. The 'duck' shook his 'head', only to come across the reason to the scream that was still leaving his now parched 'throat.' He was in pain. Terrible pain, that seemed to get worse the more violently he shook his head. He reasoned it would be wise to stop shaking his 'head' to stop the pain, but he just couldn't bring himself to do so. So he kept screaming and shaking his 'head' wildly back and forth like a fool, until Sticks woke up and began flailing wildly, matching her 'brother's' scream with her own.
"THA HECK IS GOIN ON?" she finally asked, grabbing Bean's skinny 'shoulders' and shaking him back and forth. The two points of shaking seemed to counteract each other, and so Bean became still. He swallowed thickly, but swallowing seemed to make the pain even worse.
"I-I don't know, Sticks... I woke up and thought my name was Ben, so I guess it gave me this terrible pain in my head?" He jabbed a 'finger' briefly down his 'throat' to show where the pain was coming from, nearly choking himself in the process. When he recovered, he thought for a moment. "Maybe it's cause I'm sober?" He nodded in agreement of himself. "Yeah, that's it. I'm sober, and all this clear thinkin is givin me pain." He began to stand but Sticks yanked him down again.
"Hold up there, BROTHER of mine. Ya ent goin nowhere until Sticksy says so." She pried open his 'mouth' and jabbed a finger down his 'throat' just as she had seen him do. He began to gag and she grinned triumphantly. "Ah found yer problem, Beanie." She stood back and nodded dramatically, proud of herself for having no medical knowledge what so ever and still being able to diagnose him faster than a doctor could have. "ya got tonsils."
"What?!" Bean cried IN outrage. "B-but tonsils are like... bad for your health! That's why doctors remove them! Did I develop them recently? Or was I born with them?" He began gasping for breath, unable to fathom how this could happen to him. "What are they DOING to me?!"
"It must be all the drinking," Sticks said wisely. "that'll make um grow real fast. And as fer what they're doin... I reckon they'll kill ya pretty quick unless you get them removed. That's why you were gaggin so bad. No one gags when you shove your finger down their throats unless they got tonsils destroyin um." At this point, Bean was hyperventilating, hunched over his 'knees,' hoping that maybe if he tried hard enough, he could cough up the horrid tonsils that made him think his name was Ben...