Sonic woke up dazed and confused. He rubbed the sleep and crust from his eyes as he tried to recalibrate his brain. An insistent, loud beep filled the apartment, making it harder to concentrate. The sun had set during his endeavor, and the room was only illuminated with the TV's flickering light. His mind was unable to bring himself back to reality, and could only focus on the funky sound of cowbells and sensual music. Finally, he honed in on the TV and there he was, George Lopez being as funny as ever. Sonic wished he could be as funny as him one day.
He adjusted his position in his seat, eager to get more comfortable to watch his favorite show. As he moved his body, his hot pink booty shorts moved with him. He realized very quickly that the inside felt very stiff and crunchy against his junk. Fuck, Sonic thought. What did I do last night?
He stood up, eager to take his shorts off, and was swiftly met with pain along his spine. His shoulders and neck felt stiff. His chair was only comfortable one episode of Uncle Grandpa at a time, god forbid falling asleep on it. That was not the only pain he felt though. He still felt emotionally hurt from Tail's unexpected visit yesterday. He didn't want to think about it anymore. Plus, Sonic still felt phantom pain from the ribs he got removed.
Sonic made his way to the bathroom, stripping as he went. Layer by layer, his clothes peeled off- except for one item. His shorts. They would not come off. The love-stained fabric was glued to his blue body. Damn, his recent over-consumption of artificial sugars had made his baby batter akin to gorilla glue. It even smelled like it, also with a hint of that artificial sweetness from the sugars. Sonic knew it did not taste that sweet. After all, he didn't get his ribs removed for nothing.
Stepping into his itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny yellow bathroom, the crummy titles felt cool on his big, squishy, smelly feet. He was too distracted to notice. He was also too distracted to notice the mold stained ceilings and shower, although he didn't notice these even when he wasn't fighting with his own crispy cream. Finally, he could do no more than hang his head in defeat. He only hoped the hot water and steam could remove the hot pink fabric from his extra salty pretzel rod.
Ah, Sonic's tub. A place of sharpie stains and misery. There was no shower curtain, only a mildewy shower liner to match the mold growing in between each shower title. At a glance one might even think that was the intended color of the grout. To no one's surprise, there sat a single bottle of six-in-one shampoo, conditioner, body wash, face wash, 24-hour deodorizer, and moisturizer on the tub's edge. At this point it was probably made up of 99% water. Classic Sonic, such a cheapskate.
He turned on the faucet. The water was lukewarm at best, and the water pressure was too weak. He filled his large hands with his watered down six-in-one concoction, and he scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed, and he tugged, and tugged, and tugged. Still, the shorts would not come off. Sonic stood under the water, looking and feeling like a wet chihuahua, but blue instead of whatever colors chihuahuas are. Would he be like this forever? Perpetually stuck in the nicest pair of booty shorts the world has to offer? How was he supposed to be deflowered? Change his clothes? Was he just supposed to wear these shorts under everything? Or incorporate it into his outfits? How was he supposed to do his laundry- wait, never mind. He didn't do his laundry before. How was he supposed to crank it? Or go to the bathroom? All this talk in combination with the running water made him need to "go," and he needed to go bad. There was nothing more Sonic could do. He couldn't get them off, he had to go in his shorts.
Disgusted with himself, Sonic let his bladder loosen. Warm urine exited his urethra, and with no where else to go, it soaked the front of the shorts. To his surprise, he then begin to see a stream of a dark yellow-orange color arch through the shower. Sonic's diet and lifestyle was so rancid, it created a body waste so toxic it dissolved the shorts. He watched in horror and amazement, as the hot pink fabric fell apart in stringy clumps. The crotch area of the garment had been completely burned through, and Sonic's icky inch-long dangled sadly from the hole. Suddenly free from its prison, the shower's poor water pressure felt like soft kisses on its blue skin.
The tub did not drain, it was too clogged with his blue hair. The fibrous mess combined with Sonic's urine surrounded the drain, mixing to be a pinkish color. It reminded him of the color of lipstick or blush. Rouge, if you will. Rouge! He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to see her today! Good thing he checked his email last night, or he would have never known at all.
In Sonic's rush to get out of the tub, he lost his balance. Putting a hand on the wall (and that dirty, dirty grout) he managed to compose himself. Sonic 1, bathtub 0. For now.
He ran out of his bathroom still soaking wet. His footprints trailed behind him, leaving a clear path to his bedroom. He got dressed hastily with his signature outfit (just white socks and red sneakers), and sprayed himself down with his poppy Bath and Body Works body spray. Pausing for just a moment to take a look at himself in his dusty full length mirror, Sonic thought he looked mighty dapper today.
Rouge. Typically a red cream or powder used to color a woman's cheeks or lips. But there was nothing red about this Rouge. Blue eyeshadow can be considered a staple in every woman's vanity, and she wore just that. Bright blue powder highlighted her eyes, although, quite honestly it clashed and did nothing to bring out her emerald orbs. White calf-high boots brought attention to her long legs, and the black leather pants hugged her curves in all the right places, but it was the pink heart on her chest that truly stole the show.
That is all Sonic thought about as he took the bus downtown. He didn't follow his normal routine of getting a hot black coffee to sip as he waited for the bus, it was too late for that. The bus was already pulled up to its stop by the time Sonic sprinted up. He didn't follow his normal behavior of talking to his bus buddies either. Chun-Li and Johnny Cage sat across from Sonic in their unassigned-assigned seats. They exchanged glances, wondering what had Sonic in such a daze this afternoon. They watched as he got off the bus, half expecting him to miss his stop, and noted he didn't say "have a good day" or even "thank you" to the bus driver either. They side-eyed eachother.
By the time Sonic was in front of his therapist's office, he was almost back to normal. But the thought of Rouge still lingered.
Sonic crossed the office's threshold and was immediately met with a disdainful look from the receptionist.
"Hi, Laura," Sonic said, eyeballing the receptionist's triangular tatas. "3:30 with Rouge."
Laura Croft, the famous but now retired femme fatal treasure hunter, let out a long sigh. Every time she was unfortunate enough to lay her eyes upon Sonic, she went for the record for the world's longest sigh. She holds it.
"She'll be with you in a moment. Take a seat."
And so Sonic did. He sat patiently for a few minutes, dangling his feet above the floor like a child. Finally, Rouge came out of her office. She held up a finger and smiled weakly as if to say "one moment, please," and glanced at Laura with wide eyes as if to say, "oh god." She leaned in front of Laura's desk and got close to her face. Laura put a manilla folder in front of their faces, and their mouths were hidden from view. They weren't very good at whispering. It was fine, Sonic sat, still dangling his feet, in childlike oblivion.
"He looks even worse than last time," Rouge said.
"Between you and me, I was hoping his insurance lapsed again." Laura replied.
"Between you and me, I was hoping he killed himself," Rouge whispered, making sure she was just loud enough for Sonic to hear.
"Why do you still have appointments with him? Should we prescribe him assisted suicide? Or maybe an exorcist?"
"Sunk cost fallacy, I suppose. Besides, I didn't go through eight years of schooling to get my license revoked by some incel mall employee wiener worker." Rouge looked over at Sonic and plastered a smile on her face. "Come right in!"
The blue hedgehog trotted over to Rouge's office where she held the door open for him. Before she closed the door she gave Laura one last desperate look. She might have even mouthed help me, but you didn't hear that from me.
Sonic looked her office over. It had been a while since he last sat on these overstuffed chairs, and he forgotten how much the incense tickled his nose. Multiple diplomas and certificates lined the beige walls. To go with these fancy pieces of papers, multiple photos decorated her bookshelves and mahogany desk. There were photos of her sitting with Oprah and Doctor Phil, and even one of her standing with former President Ronald Reagan himself. What an accomplished woman! Sonic was impressed. He thought some of these photos looked new.
He sat down and squirmed in his seat, doing his best to make himself comfortable. Potted plants took up every available space, and he noted that there was a new succulent on the glass table in front of him.
"So," Rouge said. She sat at the chair across from him. "What brings you in today?"
"Oh. My. God," Sonic started. As expected, it came out as "gawd." "Just about everything."
Rouge sighed, as if knowing what was about to unfold for the next forty minutes.
"Tell me more." Rouge nodded, her pen hovered over her notepad, unmoving.
Sonic proceeded to go over everything that happened the day before. From the pretzels, to the body spray, to Tails in his apartment. He made sure to cover everything. Well, almost everything. Although, this did not go unnoticed by Rouge.
"So... I think I covered everything." Sonic said. His eyes were drifting away from Rouge's plump lips and fluttered downwards.
"Why do I sense you're leaving something out?" Rouge tilted her head. Sonic noticed new scribbles on her notepad. He wished he could read it. His eyes moved back up-but not all the way- instead.
"Well..." Sonic was unable to concentrate on the Purple thing he left out. He could only concentrate on the well endowed woman in front of him.
"Sonic?" Rouge prodded, hoping to pry into his brain. She only wished it was in a jar instead, it would be easier to poke and prod at.
"Um," he murmured, suddenly remembering where he was. "Awooga."
"What the fuck," she whispered. "Sonic, I need you to stop looking at my chest."
Rouge shook her head, disappointed but not surprised. She motioned towards her accomplishments on the wall.
"Look," she said. "I am here to help you better yourself. You staring at my chest is not part of that. You talk to me like a normal person or I can refer you to a male therapist, got that?"
A male therapist who hasn't met Oprah or former President Ronny Reagan? No! That just wouldn't do.
"I think I have a crush on a man," Sonic blurted.
Rouge closed her notepad, folding her hands over it. Finally, they were getting somewhere.
"Uh huh." She nodded. "And why do you think that?"
A lump formed in Sonic's throat. He tried to swallow it down to no avail. How could he explain? He didn't even know how to explain it to himself.
"I met this guy," he started, methodically forming each word. "His name is Purple Guy. I think he's really cool. He works at Hot Topic. The one in the same mall I work. And he is just so... I don't know. Charming? Mysterious? I just can't stop thinking about him. He has a really cool taste is music, and pins, and whatever. Just a cool dude. A cool, cool-toned dude, you know? I have never felt that way about another man's pixels before."
Rouge flipped her notepad open briefly and scanned her eyes over her notes. As the pages fluttered back down, she asked, "And could this possibly be affecting your relationship with Tails?"
"I- what? No, wait, what? You don't actually think that? That he's jealous or something?"
"I don't know, Sonic. What do you think? Did you tell Tails about Purple Guy?"
"No, I don't think so. I don't know what I think."
"So why would he be jealous?"
"I don't know."
"Well." Rouge looked over Sonic's head. The clock was pink and heart-shaped. "Our time is just about up. We can unpack all of that next session, all right? Make your next appointment upfront with Laura. You know the drill."
"Alright," Sonic sighed as he stood up. "Have a good day. See you next week, Rouge!"
As Sonic was closing the door behind him, Rouge was opening the cabinet of her bookcase and pulling out an almost empty bottle of hard liquor. She was considering adding the cost to Sonic's bill.
Eying Sonic, Laura sighed.
"We're good for the same time next week?" Laura asked. "Please say no."
Sonic chuckled. It was one of those half laughs people do when they have no idea what someone just said, you know the one. He was too busy looking at Laura's angular areola alps to pay attention to anything coming out of her poorly rendered mouth.
"Same time next week it is." She sighed again, and for longer this time. This was not her first rodeo, where she played the role of the bull, and Sonic the clown.
"Have a nice day, Sonic. Please kill yourself." She didn't look up from her Windows98 computer. Her polygonal fingers made a satisfying click-clack on the thick keyboard as she input Sonic's next appointment. His name was logged as "LAST NAME: Pervert; FIRST NAME: Blue."
"Thank you, Laura," Sonic finally said, swallowing the thick phlegm that had accumulated in his throat. At least, that is what he thought he said. What really came out of his mouth was, "AWOOGA! AWOOGA!"
His big grassy orbs bulged out of his head. To his dismay, they swelled too close to Laura's pointy pair. Laura expected his eyes to pop like a cheap birthday balloon. Instead, they squelched as they touched her pin point nipples. The keyboard clacked and clicked as she made note of it in his file.
Crimson ooze began to spray from Sonic's eyes. Blood dripped from his face like a bad creepypasta. Pain seared through his face every time he blinked. Finally, he turned and left. Laura picked up the phone. It was not the first time she had to call crime scene cleaners after his departure. She was sure it would not be the last either.