Chapter !!!
“I’m assuming you want to go first, Blue?” Brian asked the eager little alien who was so excited by that point that its ears, along with its tail, were now waggling.
“I suppose this gives ‘getting a piece of tail’ a whole new meaning,” Brian muttered to himself, tilting his head to the side a smidgen as he tried to figure out exactly how he was supposed to work this thing, seeing as he couldn’t actually see an asshole anywhere on the creature’s furry behind, although he figured it might be hidden beneath the thong-like utility belt Justloq was wearing.
But, before Brian really had a chance to get started, they were interrupted by a very loud banging on the loft’s front door.
“Who the fuck is knocking on my door this early in the morn . . .” Brian looked over at the clock on his nightstand and cursed. “Ten-thirty? It’s already ten-fucking-thirty? Why did you let me oversleep?”
“Brrryon head tired rest,” Justloq explained, reaching up to touch the spot on his temple where Brian had knocked himself out the night before, reminding him that it did, in fact, still hurt like a bitch.
“Whatever.” He was already scrambling in his closet to find a suit - not thinking of anything other than the Liberty Air meeting he was supposed to have been at a half hour before - when the knocking at the door came again. “Somebody get that already! I need to get out of here, like, yesterday, and I can’t find my blue pinstripe tie . . .”
All three of Brian’s visitors followed directions, moving en masse towards the entrance where the sound of the knocking was still happening.
“Get that already,” Justloq copied Brian’s words and pointed Daph towards the door. Daph refused, shaking her anterior protuberance in the negative. “Get that already?” Justloq repeated with a questioning look towards Dreebo. With a subvocal screech of annoyance at his useless crew, the Com’dant finally took the initiative and pulled open the door himself.
“Well! Hello there! And what, praytell, is La Kinney up to this morning, hmm?” Emmett Honeycutt exclaimed when he found himself standing face to face with a great big, red, furry, hunk of manliness. “Brian, honey? I don’t mean to kink shame or anything, but I didn’t expect YOU of all people to be into the ‘furry lifestyle’, Sweetie . . . Brian? Brian, where are you?” The nosy southerner edged around the pack of multicolored furries, intent on figuring out where the leader of this pack might be hiding himself.
“Fuck me.” Brian realized the error of his ways the second he heard Emmett’s voice calling for him. “Please tell me I didn’t just send my resident aliens to go let Honeycutt into my house the morning after I was abducted and almost hit by a spaceship . . .”
“Oh, there you are, Bri,” Emmett noted as he stepped into the bedroom, all three aliens trailing closely behind. “So, let me guess, something came up last night while you were on your way to the baths?”
“Baths?” Dreebo echoed, looking to Daph as the little yellow one crawled back into Brian’s bed and made itself comfortable. “$Penang setbv denotey //5)”
“Calgon, take me away . . .” Daph responded, assuming a languorous, femme fatale posture with one arm draped across its forehead, adding what Brian assumed was an alien giggle.
“No baths,” Big Red corrected Emmett with a shake of its head. Then it pointed to Brian and elucidated, “almost drowning in H2O accumulation. Justloq save. Not bath.”
Brian groaned. He grabbed his red power tie - in lieu of the pinstriped one he still couldn’t find - along with his favorite charcoal gray Armani suit, and shouldered past Honeycutt on his way into the bathroom, adding under his breath, “Fuck me! I think I would’ve preferred the evil alien anal probing instead of this shit . . .”
“Alien probing?” Emmett questioned. “Sounds a little too kinky even for you, Brian.”
“Ignore me. I’m on drugs,” Brian yelled over the sound of the shower being turned on.
“I suppose that explains why you’re more than two hours late to work,” Honeycutt deduced. “Poor Teddy was practically frantic when I called him this morning. He mentioned something about a bigwig client you were supposed to meet with today . . . Anyway, since nobody’s been able to get a hold of you all morning, and I was in the neighborhood on the way to my Pilates class, I offered to stop by and see if everything was okay. I certainly did NOT expect to see you still romping with your furry pack this morning, though.”
“Fuck me . . .” Brian repeated, the groan barely audible from inside the shower enclosure.
“Yes! Zagnut now please?” Justloq called out, undeterred.
“Wow! I haven’t had a zagnut bar in ages, Honey. I don’t even know where you can buy one these days!” Emmett commented. “Personally, I’m more of a chocolate bonbons kind of gal.”
“Would you shut the fuck up about bonbons, Honeycutt,” Brian snarled as he emerged from the bathroom, still dripping, nothing but a towel around his hips. “Can somebody find my phone for me? I have to call Cynthia and beg her to cover my ass until I can get to the office. Assuming, she hasn’t already quit . . .”
That’s when the big red furry spoke up, his voice an almost perfect imitation of Cynthia’s. “Brian? Brian, if you’re there, pick up now! Brian! Okay, I’m going to assume you were hit by a truck, because that’s the only explanation I will accept for why you weren’t here in time to meet with the Liberty Air people. And if you’re not dead, I’m going to kill you when you do finally make it into the office. Call me, you asshole!”
“Dammit to fucking hell!” Brian snarled, pulling a different suit out of the closet than the one he’d left behind in the bathroom in his frazzled rush to get ready. “That’s a fucking $10 million a year account!”
“It WAS a $10 million account,” Emmett interjected with a sympathetic grimace. “Teddy said the clients left about fifteen minutes ago. I don’t think they were very happy.”
Brian let the suit pants he’d barely pulled up over his ass fall back down to the ground in a heap and sank dejectedly onto the edge of the mattress. “Fuck my life! You should’ve just abducted me and taken me away to the slave mining planet. That probably would’ve been less traumatic.”
“Slave mining planet? What kind of drugs are you on this morning? And, will you share?” Emmett’s attempt to inject some humor into the situation fell flat, everyone mostly ignoring him.
“No slaves! Zagnut pleasure dance very much please now!” Blue insisted, climbing onto the mattress next to Brian and maneuvering around on all fours until his tail was wagging hopefully in the gloomy human’s direction.
“UGHHhHH!” Brian screamed, both hands reaching up to tear out hunks of his hair. “Honeycutt, can you please just do . . . Something . . . With these three, while I try to figure out how to put my life back together?” he pleaded, shoving the little blue’s behind away and getting back to his feet. “I have to go grovel to Cynthia . . .”
“Don’t call me Honeycutt!” Emmett complained to Brian‘s back as the frustrated AdMan stalked across the loft, headed for his computer desk. Then Em turned to look at his three technicolor furry charges with confusion. “Do something with them? What? Do I look like a Fluffer?” Since Brian was no longer paying any attention, though, Em tilted his head to the side in order to examine the problem from a different perspective. ”Hhmmm. Okay . . . I guess Pilates is out and cat herding is in. Come along, you three. Let’s make you a little more . . . Presentable.”
Brian spent the next two hours on the phone, first with Cynthia and then with the clients, begging, pleading, cajoling, and negotiating, until he had sufficiently placated the Liberty Aair CEO. He was too distracted to pay much attention to whatever was going on up in the bedroom, even if he had been a tiny bit curious about the noises and muttering filtering out from behind the closed bedroom panels. He’d only looked up briefly from his computer when Emmett had ventured out the one time, heading to the kitchen and spending several minutes rifling through Brian‘s cupboards and drawers.
“Don’t mind me,” Em had whispered as he passed by Brian on his way back up to the bedroom, his arms laden with a stack of dish towels, a jar of honey, the bag full of Brian’s favorite whole oat cereal, a small dish filled with lemon slices, a box of baking soda Brian hadn’t even known he had in his kitchen, the big kitchen scissors, and three bottles of perrier. “Just needed some beauty supplies.”
“Whatever,” Brian muttered, his attention already back on the computer where he was trying to draft an email response to the still peeved Liberty Air CEO.
But, finally, when Brian had eventually persuaded the client to give Kinnetik another chance - after being forced to offer them a hefty discount to recompense them for all the trouble - Brian hung up the phone and took a deep breath of relief. What a fucking morning. Even the Kinney charm had almost not been enough to save the day this time. That discount bothered the fuck out of him, but he figured he’d find a way to sell the client on some other enhancement later in the campaign and make it up that way. The important thing was that he hadn’t lost his biggest client.
Just then there was another round of knocking and movement going on behind the closed panels up in his bedroom, reminding him that he still needed to figure out what the fuck was going on in his personal life.
“Honeycutt? What the fuck are you doing up there?” he called out, reluctantly getting up and walking toward the bedroom area. “Please tell me they haven’t talked you into doing anything involving a ‘zagnut’ on my bed . . .”
“Oh, good! You’re finally done!” Emmett exclaimed, coming out to stand at the top of the steps, blocking Brian’s view of whatever was going on behind him. “You’re just in time for the big reveal!”
“Big reveal? That sounds ominous . . .”
“Hush, you! No raining on my makeover parade!” Em ordered, waving both hands at Brian in order to make him take a few steps back.
“Makeover?” Brian was confused. “What the fuck are you talking about, Honeycutt.”
“Don’t call me ‘Honeycutt’!” an exasperated Emmett grumbled. “And don’t complain. You’re the one who ordered me to ‘do something’ with them. I mean, you might be into the fur scene, but that’s just not my thing. I didn’t think you’d want them all going out in public looking like THAT either. Not for lunch at least. So, I used my fairy magic and . . . Voila! I give you the new, improved Kinney Coterie!”
Brian whimpered, but didn’t have time to say anything more before his friend was already murmuring to someone just out of Brian’s line of sight and making summoning motions.
“Now, first, for the big red one - who, I think, is my favorite, by the way - I decided to go with the Big Butch Muscle Queen look. Because, I mean, just everything about this boy is large. Trust me. EVERYTHING . . .” Emmett began his explanation and then, with a huge grin on his face, he stepped aside so that Brian could see the figure standing behind him. “I give you, Dreebo the Super Dreamy!”
To Brian’s utter surprise, the being that emerged from the bedroom and walked down the stairs was a total hottie! The male figure he saw looked almost like a regular human male - and boy was he male alright! - tall, well-muscled, dressed only in a pair of Brian’s boxers, which he filled out more than adequately, and definitely not at all furry. Well, except for the patch of bright red hair on the top of the guy’s head. The rest of him was just all skin and muscle and hubba hubba. Brian approved.
“Wow! I’m . . . Wow!” Brian, the adman, was left speechless. “How the hell did you do that? Where’s all the fur and the . . .”
Emmett scoffed and leaned around the closest glass panel to pick something up off the floor. Holding out what looked like a pile of red fur, he said, “you mean the costumes?”
“Uniform,” Dreebo corrected Emmett, reaching for the furry garment.
“I don’t think we need those for lunch, Dreebie, Honey. Let’s save those for the next Furmeet, huh?” Em quickly tossed the pile of red fur aside before the alien could get hold of it.
“But . . .” Brian sputtered, a little annoyed at the deception. “Fine. Whatever. But their skin. Their faces. Those were the same color too. How’d you get their faces to look so . . . Human?”
“You mean the makeup? Yeah, that was a bitch to get off,” Emmett admitted. “I have no idea what kind of pigments were in that stuff, but I suggest you go with something water soluble next time, Bri. I had to use almost all of your special anti-aging lotion to get that stuff off them. It was the only thing that worked.”
“Make up?” Brian just seemed lost by that point.
“Are you still high or something, Brian? Of course it was makeup. You didn’t think they were really red or blue or yellow, did you?” Em chided. “What the fuck kind of trip were you on last night, anyway?”
“A really, really, REALLY, bad one, it seems,” Brian confirmed, shaking his head as if to clear away the fog of disbelief.
“Well, anyhoo . . .” Em ignored Brian, intent on continuing with his own agenda. “Next up, we have your little yellow ‘friend’.” The way Honeycutt said the word ‘friend’ worried Brian a bit, but there was no way he would have guessed what was about to come next, so it was probably a good thing he didn’t have the time to wonder about it. “Ta da!”
This time, the creature that stepped forward turned out to be a petite, young woman with long, curly, neon yellow hair, dressed in one of Brian’s t-shirts and a pair of shorts.
“OMG! You’re like, totally, Black!” Daph mimicked Emmett, holding both hands up to her face in a perfect imitation of the big queen’s mannerisms.
“And a girl, it seems . . .” Emmett added, giving Brian a squicked side eye.
“And a girl,” Daph agreed with a grin and a bow before stepping down to join Com’dant Dreebo standing next to Brian.
“Finally, the piece de resistance! (I’m really proud of this one, too),” Em added in an aside to Brian, with an elbow to Brian’s side for emphasis. “With the little blue one, I decided to go with the classic twink look because, well, he’s just so adorable I couldn’t resist. Come on out here, Justie!”
With that prompt, the last of Brian’s alien guests shuffled out from where he’d been hiding behind the still-closed panels and took his place at the top of the stairs. Brian felt his chin drop as he stared at this wonder. In place of the fuzzy blue creature from earlier, he now found himself admiring a hot, taut, little twinkie. This male was significantly shorter than Big Red and more slimly built. Without the blue face paint, it turned out that Justloq had pale ivory skin; pale enough so that you could see the blush rising against that skin as he stood there waiting while everyone stared. He still had a shock of bright blue hair on his head, but it looked like Em had given the boy a quick trim so it was at least a neat little shock of blue. The fact that he was dressed only in another pair of Brian’s shorts, meant that they all got a good look at the youth’s trim body and rather respectable package.
“Uh, Brian? Darling, you’re drooling,” Em commented snarkily. Then he leaned in so he could whisper in Brian’s ear, “I thought you’d approve of that one. He’s a total hottie, right?”
“We are human now!” Justloq announced, finally looking up and meeting Brian’s eyes with another fucking adorable blush.
“Wow! You’re a fucking miracle worker, Honeycutt!” Brian exclaimed, offering unheard of praise.
“We are good?” Justloq asked as he stepped down so he could join his compatriots.
“Real good,” Brian replied.
“Okay, okay! Group picture now,” Emmett directed, pulling Brian over so that the brunet was standing in the middle of the group of madeover aliens and then taking out his phone so he could snap a quick pic. “Smile and say, ‘Velveeta Slices’!”
“Velvet sleeves.”
“Welvetted sklevices.”
“Velva slcices.”
“Fuck you, Emmy Lou,” Brian added just as the flash went off and momentarily blinded all four of the crew.
“Sorry, Bri, but I’ve already got plans for that,” Em declared, and immediately looped his arm through that of the hunky Dreebo before steering the big guy back up the steps. “But first, I’m starving, so how about we get these three dressed, hit the Diner, and get some lunch. Then, maybe, we can head over to Woody’s for the Friday afternoon tea dance. What do you say, Big Red? You up for some afternoon delight with delightful little moi?”
“We can’t take them out,” Brian tried to intervene but the crafty queen was already rampaging through Brian’s closet while chatting aimiably with his muscle-butch creation. Turning to the other two remade aliens he asked, “don’t you have to stay here and fix your mini-skidoo or something?”
Daph looked over to where the miniaturized spaceship was still waiting, propped up on a bath towel in the middle of Brian’s coffee table, and then broke into song again. “Drippin' down my neck. Soakin' wet. Sink or swim or you drown. Yeah. Yeah. Let’s get a little wet . . .” the alien perfectly mimicked Nicole Scherzinger’s ‘Wet’.
“Great! Just what I needed, a useless, drippy, centerpiece for my table,” he complained. “So how much longer until it’s dry enough for you guys to get the hell out of here?”
“Now open, 24/7, for your convenience,” Justloq answered, sounding like he was repeating a television ad.
“Twenty-four hours?” Brian translated with a scowl directed towards the wet artifact. “Well, fuck . . . I guess that’s not too long.” Then he scanned the two de-furred aliens who were both waiting for his judgment. “You know what? Fuck it! Even if I wanted to I can’t get anything more done today - not as long as Cynthia’s still not speaking to me - and I already had the whole day blocked off to work on the fucking Liberty Air account - which obviously isn’t happening now - so why the hell not spend the day showing a bunch of aliens around town? I mean, I’m assuming you're just going to wipe my memory of all of this when you leave, so it’s really not worth trying to get any work done anyway. Right?”
“Memories. Light the corners of my mind. Misty watercolor memories. Of the way we were . . .” Daph sang out in her best Barbra imitation, until Brian put his hand over her mouth to stop her.
“No more merry melodies, though, huh? I don’t think the alien invasion needs a musical soundtrack. Okay?” Brian pleaded.
“Sn;lvadkbzb divvweIUH PD Co9382Sfdp WIUY zagnut,” Daph screeched to Justloq. Which, translated, was something along the lines of, “This guy’s a bit of a tight zagnut.”
To which Justloq responded, “Apyspd9 ywohzgf8yv 5 zagnut a 0iu;a0evt 8y@” “Please don’t mention zagnuts, Daph, at least not until I get this human to pleasure mine, or I might just burst.”
“Hurry up and come get dressed, guys!” Emmett summoned them before they could get further involved in any discussion of what Justloq wanted done to his zagnut. “I can’t wait to show my dreamy Dreebo off to the gang at the Diner. They’re just gonna die when I introduce him as my date!”
“Whoa there, Honeycutt. Reality Check. He’s not your date. He’s . . . He’s not even from around here,” Brian tried to curb his friend’s enthusiasm.
“So? Just because they’re foreigners, doesn’t mean they can’t be dates.” With a flirty little head tilt in Dreebo’s direction he asked, “do you have Cosmos where you come from?”
“Cosmos?” Dreebo repeated, looking towards his crew for a translation.
“Ap;oi d0p98y vat 9 yd9fyzv9f 9q3v4,” Daph answered him in screechy alien.
“Ah, yes. The group of planetary systems you call the universe, seen as a well-ordered, harmonic, whole. Yes, we see many ‘cosmos’,” Dreebo replied with a grimace-smile aimed Emmett’s way.
“Interesting language. Never heard anything quite like that. Where are you three from, anyway?” he questioned.
Brian jumped in, thinking fast to try and cover for his alien guests. “They’re from . . . uh . . . Finland. I think.”
“Wow! Finland. I hear it gets cold there. I bet you have some stories to tell about how to keep warm on those long winter nights, don’t you . . .”
Before Brian could intervene further, Emmett had rounded up all of the newcomers and started in on the process of getting them all dressed and out of the loft. With a sigh, Brian decided it wasn’t worth fighting the inevitable. If you can’t beat 'em, join ‘em, right?
*VSOPDIFU z’dsj;copl DPGFHDTH*