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Dancing with Daren was everything. It was so liberating just letting your body run wild in a crowded dark room. Daren and I shook our hips and tails like complete buffoons, we bumped our asses, and we even grinded for a while and nobody cared! I didn't even notice how sweaty my tux was getting until way after the fact because I was having so much fun.

I even thought of some trademark Robert Hamilton dance moves that I got to show off, like teetering in place in circles, which I called the 'I'm too drunk to function' move, and one where I knock on the air in front of me and rotate my paw, which I call the 'goddammit I can't get my locker open' move. I knew they were keepers when Daren enjoyably snorted at them.

But in due time dancing in dress shoes took a toll on my hindpaws, and after some contented huffs and another drunk bear hug, Daren and I decided to leave the dance floor.

As we were walking away I used my black fur to ninja blend into my surroundings (I.E. I put no effort into stealth at all) and stole a quick kiss from Daren. He looked back at me with a sly 'I see what you did there' grin, and payed me back with a big sloppy kiss to my nose, sending excited jitters down my spine. And again, nobody cared! It was like Satan came up to me and swatted my bare ass with a paddle that said 'being out of the closet has perks too, dumbass'.

During our leisurely walk to the food station, a karmatic 'what comes around goes around' moment hit me square in the ass. Daren's stubby tail started wagging eagerly when he spotted a Bull and Badger consuming mountainous plates of food on the hoola-hoop seats just a way over. "Oh snap, Marty and Pesto. Let's chat them up, they good people," the Rottie insisted, guiding me toward them, paw on my forearm.

Normally I would have been totally chill with Marty and Pesto...except just a few minutes ago I had sent him a text that, in retrospect, was hella embarrassing. I uneasily followed Daren, but soon found myself halting and tensing up in place by an uncomfortable realization: they were talking about my text message.

"Hey Pesto, what does it mean if somebody says they're gayer than IKEA on Superbowl Sunday?" Marty asked glibly though a mouthful of rainbow-colored hard-shell taco.

Pesto gently swerved her body side to side on the suspended hoop, getting to work on her own massive plate of deserts that she held on her lap. "I'm gonna go off a limb and say it means they're pretty fucking gay," she responded casually.

Ahhhh does she have to be so on the nose about the way she says it?!

I know I had my big epiphany moment about the importance of being myself etc. etc., but old habits do not break in a single night. I really wasn't all about having the 'yup I totally suck dick now, what a plot twist' conversation right now. AGH why did coming out have to be an ongoing process?! Why couldn't I just be done with it already?!

I decided to conceal myself behind Daren's large frame, peaking over his shoulder. We were angled at the periphery of their line of sight in a crowded and darkroom, so it didn't seem likely that they'd see us. Daren looked back at me with confused eyes as I started cringing and debating the merits of eavesdropping vs. facing this ordeal head on. "Yo, wassupRob? It just Marty andPesto."

Do dumb people tend to me more, or less homophobic? How was Marty going to react? Ahhhhh who knows?! "Yeah but... they'relike... talkingaboutmy text... just lemme eavesdrop for abit so Iknow Martydoesn't hatemenow..." I murmured like a kitten terrified of his own shadow.

"You wanna eavesdrop tocheck that theguy whodatin atransgirl isn't homophobic?" Daren asked dubiously with the biggest 'this fucking guy' look on his muzzle. Yet once again, I got him acquiesce to my paranoid demands when I responded 'yeah, just realquick' with a dismissive wave of my paw.

"Yeah but what's so gay about IKEA on Superbowl Sunday?" I overheard Marty ask next as Daren shook his head at me unimpressed. Gawd, it was like every single question Marty asked was another pump into my mental gay anxiety tank. Please please please please be cool.

"Because all the straight people are watching the Superbowl, and all the gay people who don't like sports are the only ones left shopping at IKEA," Pesto explained sensibly before throwing three confectionary globs into her mouth. "God, these ballsack creampuffs are fucking fire. Maybe I should get a croquem-whatever for my birthday party."

Every word of the conversation was hitting a sensitive part of my psyche, like I was taking a light jab to the gut from somebody wearing bejeweled rainbow boxing gloves. All I could do was run with the blows while anticipating the knockout blow of somebody saying "so Rob's fucking gay then?'

"...But Rob sent it to me."

AGH HE SAID MY NAME GODDAMMIT

"SHIt, ThErE's mAh naMe>~!3/?{" I said erratically as I clung extra tight to Daren's chest for support. I suddenly felt very nauseous, "Gwah,I feel like throwing up right now."

Daren pried me from his body, turned me to face him and *whack* gave me a frim, sobering slap to the side. "You ain't throwing up. Iforbid it. Youremember whata shitshowchapter 12 was?" Daren quickly responded.

All of a sudden, the roiling in my gut stopped. That really did the trick! "...You knowwhat, you're right. I dunhave to throwup at all."

"So let'sfucking say'hi' then, becausethey obvi ain't givea shit yougay."

"Okay..." I moaned as I made my walk, my body getting hotter with each step like I was walking into a furnace.

_"_But Rob and I always watch the Superbowl together with my other football pals. So how can he be gayer than IKEA on Superbowl Sunday if he doesn't even go to IKEA then? I don't think he's ever snuck off to IKEA in the middle of watching the Super Bowl..."

Pesto started humoredly snorting at Marty's *logic* "Marty, you're taking it way too literally... or not literally enough? Basically he's telling you he's gay."

Oh Gooooood, there it fucking was! At that moment I wished I could just delete that text message I sent from the space-time calliope. Except Daren and I were suddenly in front of them now OH FUCK.

"Hey! ...guys," I said unnaturally, not knowing if this would be the moment for whom the bell tolls... uh, at me...

"Oh, hey Rob, we were just talking about you," Marty started up in the glib, breathy voice of his.

"O-Oh, isthat so?" I played dumb, rubbing the back of my head with a strained laugh. My nerve began crumpling like a failed quiz given back to one of my angsty classmates.

What do I saaaaay?

Pesto swished her four-inch nails at us. "Hey big boys," the Badger interjected in a suddenly deep mans voice before reverting to normal speak. "Oh Daren, I just figured out the deal with that party we maybe met at before. Sometimes I take Ewber rides up to Detroit to visit my cousin, so I think I might have met you one of those times."

"Oh shit! Isyo cousin..." Daren began before his train of thought was ruined by realizing that there was something very off with Pesto's statement. "Wait... you took Ewberrides toDetroit from Grovedale? Thatlike a three-and-a-half-hour drive... That gottabe somethinglike 200 dollarsone way."

"My parents give me way too much money for my allowance," the Badger responded deadpan, thus began Pesto and Daren's long conversation about their mutual acquaintance.

Leaving me to talk to Marty... and completely on edge. I wasn't even sure how I wanted this to play out besides no homo-bashing. Part of me felt like it should be this huge emotional thing because of how guarded of a secret it was, but part of me didn't want to have to deal with all that.... I eyed Marty cautiously, still getting a feel for how the Bull might feel about my sexuality. As he chewed slowly, he looked like he was deep in his thoughts... for once. Or wait, maybe this had something to do with me being an explosive fuckwad earlier today in the locker room? Ooo that would make a good lead-in!

"HeyMarty um... sorryabout kindof freakingout and yellingin the lockerroom earliertoday..." I started off gingerly.

"Huh? Oh that's fine. You were under a lot of stress. I get it," Marty responded casually, before returning to his pensive chewing.

"Yeah... It was a rough game..."

Guess that wasn't it... Oh fuck it, let's just get it over with! "So Marty, about my text message... you uh... don'tmind thatI'm gay doyou?" I asked with a feeble 'please don't hate me' whine in my voice.

A lank expression filled with his normal, good-natured derpyness when he turned to me. "Huh? Oh yeah, that's cool. I'm still just trying to figure out your joke though. How can you be gayer than IKEA on Superbowl Sunday if you don't go to IKEA on Superbowl Sunday? It seems like a pear-o-docks. "

...Paradox? That's what he was focused on? ...Bless his stupid heart. Before I knew it, I had already placed my shoulder on the Bull's shoulder like a total bro, my heart suddenly full of good feels. "...Thanks Marty," I said with a gracious smile.

"For what?" The Bull asked after a multitude of confused blinks.

"Thanks Marty," I reiterated, to which the Bull cocked his head.

*Cachank*

All of a sudden the gymnasium lights flipped on, the harsh contrast contracting the pupils of the many denizens of the room. Their cries out articulated my thoughts perfectly... or at least the first couple did.

"Ow, my eyes!"

"ffffffAAAAAHHHHHH"

"That scared the Raptor BeJesus out of me!"

"It's the fuzz, hide the goods!"

"Oh, Raptor Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and Saint Peter, take me back to the dark, I see demons, I see demons!" cried out an oddly Scottish-sounding voice.

"The sudden contrast in lighting is making my nipples lactate! Who's thirsty?"

*mic thumping noises*

"Uh, attention. Attention," sound principal Falsty's crusty, drawling voice from the gymnasium speakers. Squinting, I saw that he was standing on the portable stage where the drag queen performance had been taking place.

Principal Faltsy was this scrawny brown Owl with a wispy white beard in an ill-fitting suit, barely five feet tall and pushing 70 years old. Besides being old and generally out of it, my guess was that he had some combination of dementia, narcolepsy, glaucoma and onset diabetes.

"Oh, and to WHO-WHO-WHOever... excuse me, WHO-WHO-WHOmever_,_ drew male genitalia on my 1989 Geo Metro's windshield with turquoise lipstick: please erase it. My car ran out of windshield wiper fluid, and I can't afford any more until next paycheck," the principal asked politely yet pleadingly into the mic.

The crowd erupted into derisive laughter and jeering. I think I heard one of my nameless Football team members yell out "You suck!" as another person threw a ripe tomato, hitting the Owl right in the noggin. After a delayed reaction, the principal just procured a faded kerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his dirty feathers. I guess you could say the student body could stand to respect the principal a little bit more.

Seemingly unaware of half of the mushy produce that he hadn't managed to wipe of his head, Principal Faltsy's eyes moved to a set of paper cards, where they stayed for quite a while. "But with that announcement out of the way, it's time to announce homecoming king and queen!" he said with a moderate flare of enthusiasm, spurring a spout of hooting and cheers from the audience. "Would our candidates please make their way toward the general direction of the stage?"

Knowing that this was going to be Francesca's golden moment, I felt ill at ease staying in the room with how mad she was at me. Maybe she'd try something on stage to sully my name when she had half the school's attention? "Oh God, I'm not sure I want to stay around and watch this..." I muttered, inching my body closer to the exit.

Pesto halted my retreat by clasping her paw onto my shoulder. "Oh no, you're going to want to see it. Trust me. C'mon, let's get a closer look," she insisted eagerly, herding the four of us ahead to the front of the crowd who were all way too drunk to argue with that enthusiasm. The spot she picked for us, about two approximate rows behinds behind the front crowd of partygoers, was uncomfortably close to the Boys Love club which huddled over about 5 paces to our right. They were of course talking about their girly feminine yaoi series written almost exclusively by women, which a sophisticated bara-loving man of culture such as myself would rightfully scoff at.

As we waited for Mr. Owl how many licks does it take to the center of a Tootsie Pop Faltsy to continue, Pesto manically rapped her extra-long neon-green fingernails against each, cackling to herself like an 90's cartoon villain about to destroy the environment.

"Without any further ado, let's invite up our candidates for homecoming King." the principal finally began. "Starting with: "Jayce Lee!" Amid a wave of cheers, I saw a reluctant Iguana sighing and making his way up stage like it was the gallows. I felt slightly bad for my friend, but more than anything I thought he was being a drama llama, like who doesn't like being popular?

"Arcangelo Vanburen!" Faltsy announced next. Emerging from the side of crowd, the Lion in shutter glasses began shimmying up the stage like he was Apollo: guiding light of the Grecians. His applause wasn't quite as loud because half of his supporters were snapping their fingers instead of clapping. Fucking hipsters...

"And last but not least, Alistair McAlistair!" As anyone could have predicted, Mr. Loudmouth got the loudest fanfare. The Doberman swaggered on up the stage proudly, riling up the crowd to make more noise by roaring like he was taking the world's spiciest dump. Alistair's big dick energy had always pissed me off, but ever since I oversaw that he actually had a big dick, it got that much more grating to my nerves.

"On to the candidates for Homecoming Queen. Starting with, Francesca Buchannan!" Faltsy announced to a wave of clapping that seemed almost... terrified. Emerging from the other side of the crowd, the Husky put on her best airs of humility and grace as she sashayed up to the right side of the stage as if she had done an extensive number of practice rehearsals.

The Husky threw a glowing smile to Jayce as she walked by the boys on the left side of the stage, who sheepishly returned the smile with one of his own. After the whole, 'accidentally rubbing Rob's baby batter in her ear' thing, the exchange was an impressive amount of... not terribly awkward.

"Haha, yeah, way to work prez," Alistair said cockily as the Husky walked by him, fishing for a bro fist. She managed to shut him down with a cold eye (damn wish I could do that), before taking her spot, affecting a regal posture like she was the French Cleopatra or some shit.

"Next up is: Dra'nakyuek, Destroyer of Worlds," the principal announced, probably butchering the pronunciation (excepted nobody really knew what the correct pronunciation was).

Apparently somebody made a request to the DJ Sir Swagsalot, because with perfect timing he put on a mix of mellifluous dark organ playing paired to dark Gregorian chant. The being that made its way up unto the stage to the serenade was a floating cloud of outlandish flickering lights and dark gasses that folded in on itself to form ephemeral shifting faces crying out in agony. This was Dra'nakyuek, Destroyer of Worlds, but everyone called her DDW for short (it's a lot easier to pronounce...). "I hunger for souls..." she intoned in a bloodcurdling, maddening voice that came from no mouth, speaking simultaneously in all languages, and yet none.

Yeah... ever since Twilight reached its peak popularity in the mid to late 2000's, our school started letting in these magical fantasy creatures into our school as foreign exchange students. But instead of a sexy vampire or werewolf, we got stuck with an interdimensional dark cloud of sentient evil. The program was clearly a TOTAL success.

Finally Faltsy got the final candidate, "And Katie Cockbane!" ...who did not show up on the stage, much to the confusion of the crowd. After two minutes of gossipy mumbling among the crowd and 'does anyone know where Katie Cockbane is? that's spelled K-A-T-I-E, C-O-C-K...'s the ceremony continued.

At this point, and oddly tense-looking Flippy (who had ceremony duty) came up to stage, with a tasseled pillow, on which rested two sacred envelopes that read 'Prom King' and 'Prom Queen'. Bowing his head three times, the Pig held out the pillow for the Principal to take, as was tradition. "And now for the Drum clatter..." Faltsy said with mild enthusiasm after taking the envelope into his claws. When apparently nobody understood what he meant, the Owl blinked in confusion. "You know, the thing where you hit the drums in rapid succession with your drumstick.

"It's called a drumroll, you dumb fuck!" somebody from the audience shouted out.

Faltsy's eyes began to widen with the speed of a snail on OxyContin. "Oh my. I seem to have mistaken my lingo." He tapped into the mic and craned his neck in a way only an Owl could do toward the DJ booth on the other side of the gym. "Excuse me, Mr. DJ Swagsalot, I would like to request one drumroll please." Bored, the spotted horse DJ yawned and hit the drumroll button on his DJ system. Fucking finally!

*drumroll noises commence*

Expressions waiting eagerly for the big reveal, the suspense in the air was palpable... "And Homecoming king of 2018 plus or minus 5 is..."

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

(It wasn't really all that dramatic after the first minute of Faltsy stumbling to open the envelope with the winner's name written inside, but that's beside the point.)

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

"...Jayce Lee!"

Jayce's face twisted in such intense dismay that it seemed like the announcement took a fat bite out of his soul. "Spectacular..." he muttered as the crowed broke out into a hooting of "Jayce Jayce Jayce Jayce!" like a bunch of fucking cavemen.

Jayce slugged over to the central mic by Flippy, received from the Pig a massive crown that was made from melted down cheap plastic dollar store crowns, as was tradition. He took it put it on, standing stiffly and miserably in place. Considering how reluctant he was to accept the accolade, clearly Francesca had campaigned on the Iguana's behalf...

"All according to plan~" Pesto crooned to herself with a low, sinister cackle at the end. Daren and I cocked an eyebrow at her. Marty just picked his teeth.

After several minutes of failing to hush the boisterous crowd, Faltsy gave up/forgot and moved on the big moment of the night, "And for our Queen..." he began as he slowly began tearing into the second sealed envelope.

*drumroll recommences*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*envelope fumbling noises*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

The Owl's eyes popped open wide in surprise.

"Oh... it's a ride in," he muttered into the mic.

Whispering and murmuring spread through the crowd. I spotted Francesca's composed expression crack in disbelief. As far as I was aware, someone other than the top three getting elevated to Homecoming queen was unheard of. Was this Part of Pesto's plan? So who the heck was this mystery person she campaigned for?

"Someone's riding in? Like on a feral horse?" Marty asked to nobody in particular like the confused dumdum he was. Loveable oaf.

And then... the moment of truth.

"...Ellie Kerbopplewitz!" Faltsy announced to a light shower of perplexed clapping from the audience.

My thought of how strange picking a tiny, nerdy Raccoon girl (that dressed like she was going to church every day) was for Homecoming Queen hardly registered before the grandest screech I had ever heard nearly shattered all the lights and glass dildos in the gymnasium: "WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK?!"

The shriek ravaged my eardrums even after I managed to cover them with my paws. It was unmistakably Francesca's voice. The force of the shriek was so great that it had practically silenced the entire gym.

Oh okay. She does know how to swear.

At that moment Francesca's expression looked like a mixture somewhere between The shriek and Sasuke Uchiha right after his family got murdered.

A certain Badger, entirely unsurprised by the shriek, let out some low cackling to herself with eyes filled with sweet, sweet revenge. "Muahahaahahah. All that bribery and backalley blowjobs payed off! Revenge really is best served gay!"

Damn! I guess I know who to go to next if Francesca ever gets on my case again.

At that moment Francesca's furious gaze overtook Flippy, who went from innocently digging into his ear going 'oww' to looking terrified like he was about to get spitroasted and turned into pulled Pork. "What the fuck happened Flippy? Did you leave the fucking voting booth unattended, you incompetent swine?!"

The Pig meep/squealed like he was expecting tonight to be his last. "No, I didn't! I kept my eyes on the voting booth the whole time! There wasn't no tampering! I even double and triple checked the votes. Ellie really won somehow!" he insisted desperately.

You could practically see hellflames erupting from the Husky, making her look about as scary as Dra'nakyuek Destroyer of Worlds. "That Backstabber! Stealing my moment and playing the innocent ingenue! This was supposed to be my moment, MINE!" the Husky yelled out for the whole audience to here.

"WHERE IS SHE, I'LL DESTORY HER, I'LL..." But then, all the fury and intensity in the Husky's expression just... dropped. At that moment Francesca's ego looked like it had shattered into a million tiny piece. "I just... I... my vision... hoax... coup de'eat... trivialized," she began babbling in a despairing, scattered voice. She then clambered off the stage and out of the gymnasium like a zombie, the flabbergasted eyes of the audience following her as she did so. Pesto was right... I was glad I saw that. Oooohhh seeing her break like that really was satisfying!

"Bye Felicia!" Pesto called out to the non-responsive Husky, wiggle-waving her fingers at the Husky as she left. I had to restrain myself from cracking up at the well-timed meme.

"I thought her name was Francesca?" Marty asked unknowingly, resulting in a succession of amused giggles escaping from Pesto's mouth. "Oh my god Marty... I'm gonna fuck you so hard tonight."

Gulp went Marty's throat.

Well that was... satisfying. Oohhh yeah, after all the grief that Husky put me through seeing her self-destruct was practically orgasmic. Only one thing nagged at me... where was Ellie?

"Ellie Kerbopplewitz... are you here? Hello?" Faltsy asked into the mic when nobody emerged onto stage. Heads started turning in the crowd. People began calling out her name, looking under tables, or idly chatting among themselves. This went on for a good minute until Jayce stealthily whispered something into the principal's ears, who nodded in understanding. "It appears that our nominee is not present at this occasion... So I supposed we'll have to give it to the runner up... but since she's having a mental breakdown... it should go to the second runner up... WHO-WHO-WHO's not here... so then I suppose it should go the third runner up: Dra'nakyuek Destroyer of Worlds."

To the uneasy clapping of the audience, the amorphous ball of otherworldly gases floated next to the principal on stage, some sort of cackling noise emanating from her

"Yes, mine foolish mortal. Bestowith upon this ravin entity thine coronet of popularity, wherefore I doth useith its dark pow'r to irradiate foolish teenage'r souls throughst whisp'rs of madness, and take them as mine thralls..."

"Oh my..." Faltsy frowned gently at the threatening proclamation. "That seems a bit extreme of a way to use a homecoming prop," he commented worriedly, as if it had never occurred to him that DDW was literally a giant ball of intergalactic Satan gas.

"Give it to a fucking guy!" Allie suddenly yelled out to the stage, penetrating the gossiping whispers of the gymnasium.

"YEAH, WE WANT GAY!" the Lynx girl in the Boys Love club yelled out, slobbering through her massive braces/head frame.

"We want gay! We want gay!" the four members of the Boys Love club began chanting vigorously. The BL club's Hippo girl in the group began widely raising her arms up and down to bring the crowd's attention toward the chant.

It wasn't long before Reginald, his boyfriend and his theater club twinks goons, who weren't too far away, began chanting too. Then Pesto and Daren started joined in the vigorous chanting, quickly sweeping up Marty and myself. The chant caught fire; it wasn't long until the whole gym was demanding a second king.

It took the old Owl a while, but Faltsy eventually seemed to understand the crowd's demands. "Alright, alright... quiet down. Since all other female runner ups are currently preoccupied, and one of them wants to use the crown's power for unspeakable evil... I suppose giving it to the runner up for homecoming King would be the logical choice..." the principal announced to the audience's delight, while nervously wiping his glasses with his kerchief, not realizing that he was just smearing tomato on it.

The audience calmed itself and rapt silence took the room. Faltsy slowly rebrandished the tally for Homecoming King.

*Drumroll noises*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

Principal Faltsy cleared his throat like the weak old bird he was before awkwardly bringing his beak toward the mic. "Our second homecoming King is...

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

*dramatic pause*

"Alistair McAlistair!" Faltsy announced to a surging roar of applause from the audience, and a peeved gag from me.

"I knew I'd win! Haha, I love being me," the Dobberman Quarterback yapped out, cockily tugging at his collar, moseying on over to the mic stand for Faltsy to hand him the second chimera/Frankenstein crown.

"A round of applause for our two Kings," Faltsy announced to an already uproarious audience.

"AND LET THE MUSIC PLAY!" Alistair roared into the mic that amplified his already loud voice to unholy levels. And with that the DJ put on a remix of 'The Beginning' by Roopaul. I took a moment to nerd out about that with Pesto screaming 'OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!'.

Ugly crowns fastened onto their heads, Jayce and Alistair began waving to the raging, convulsing crowd. It only took a nanosecond of hearing 'make out!' from a few partygoers before Alistair flashed a grin at the other Homecoming King. "Well Jayce, you know the tradition: pucker up."

"No, that's quite fine, thank you," Jayce politely declined.

"Don't worry, it's no homo, bro."

"I don't buy that reasoning for a second."

"Oh c'mon bro, be a man and make out with me! C'MON!" Alistair yelled out as he tackled our forward passer, who almost never got tackled in matches and definitely wasn't used to it.

"Help me, he's invading my personal bubble!" Jayce cried out before he was silenced by Alistair's totally hetero lips, the audience excitedly woofing, wooting and screaming at the gayness of it all. Jayce flailed his arms around and then tried desperately to pry Alistair's muzzle away from his, gaining a moment of air. "I need an adult!" The hapless Iguana yelled out as Allie took a million and a half photos of what was definitely sexual harassment. The crowd cheered when Alistair renewed his assault pinning the Iguana's arms down and going down town on those green lips. And the Boys love club next to stared at the display as if all their fantasies were coming true.

"Rape is so hot," the Lynx said in that saliva-heavy voice of hers, practically drooling waterfalls.

Then the Ostrich in the group's jaw dropped when she noticed that her Hippo friend was pants down, fisting her own womanhood at the smoky gay makeout sesh. "Gloria, are you pounding your pudding? Stop it, we'll get kicked out!" she squealed in her annoyingly bubbly voice.

"I can't help it! My loins are on FIRE! HNNNNNN," the Hippo roared right as the Ostrich and Lynx began forcing her fist out of her Smiley Sam and started putting her fucking clothes back on.

Oh my God, I go to school with these people...

Seeing as nobody else was going to do the right thing, I climbed up on to stage with Daren to pull fucking Alistair off Jayce though BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH STRAIGHT GUYS GETTING MOLESTED IS REALLY HOT, IT'S STILL NOT OKAY. I was still adding hot Doberman on Iguana action to my spank bank though...

Horny and heedless to his surroundings as the Doberman was, Daren managed to nab one of his legs as I got the other. We began dragging Alistair backwards, giving everyone's loveable string bean the opportunity to abscond the fuck off stage. Jayce thanked us with a devastated face as his did so; if he had any mascara on, it would definitely be running. Poor hot straight boy...

"Aw c'mon guys, I was fucking kidding!" Alistair protested as we continued to drag him backwards to make sure there was no fucking way he'd catch up to Jayce. Our dragging was met by a few 'boo's, aww's and even some laughter, But by this point, most everyone was back to their socializing so nobody else intervened.

"Gayrecognize gay, Alistair. Only thingyou kidding isyouself," Daren commented dryly as he effortlessly dragged the nearly 200-pound slab of muscle backwards.

Meanwhile I was struggling because physical exhaustion and alcohol did not mix. "Yeah Alistair, would you lay off the no homo big dick energy for once in your goddamn life?!" I grunted as I continued to heave the Dobberman across the stage. 'Alistair continued to yell out 'no homo!' and 'don't worry, it's not gay if it's gay!' as if that were the issue here. I just can't fucking deal with this guy...

After we let Alistair go to prey on some other poor fool under the 'no-homo' clause, Daren and I headed back to our small group of friends, where Pesto was afterglowing from seeing Francesca scream and run out like it was the sweetest damn thing ever worthy of reddit gold on /pettyrevenge.

This was right about when I started to feel grateful for how extra and ridiculous my school was. Cringey as some of the other students were, it finally started permeating through my thick skull that with all the sociopaths, insane people, illogically powerful student government, otherworldly entities and convicted felons hired as lunchroom and janitorial staff, then just maybe me being accepted as a gay jock here wasn't that big of a stretch.

"Well... now what?" I asked my friends after we had a big laugh about the whole Homecoming Queen and King(s) shebang.

"Are you kidding me? We've got two hours left of the best homecoming dance ever. Let's fucking party," Pesto announced shoving her cup of booze into my chest.

And the four of us drank to the greatest and gayest night of our lives.

*meanwhile*

Amongst the many other partyers looking to catch some fresh air, a group of three students reclined against the white brick walls of Grovedale High, adjected to the gym's exit. The Panda and Lizard of the group, both female, laughed and chatted heartily between drags of their Jules, recanting on the experience of stealthily gaying up the homecoming out decoration. All the while the portly male Wolverine held himself awkwardly, just observing the girls' conversation like a third wheel. From the confident way the Panda carried herself, anyone could easily tell that she was the one who called the shots in the group.

This Panda was Angie Lesbian-Mom, daughter of Angie's Lesbian-Mom (it was a very confusing last name for a teenager to have). She was the singer of Chris, Lachlan and Jasmine's band Counterstrike which might actually be relevant information when the author gets off his lazy ass and writes Chris' plotline. She was popular at the school, being something of a rebellious icon among the student body. Despite this, her popularity ranking was exceptionally low. This was mostly because she never made it far with the *in* group of kids as unironic anarchist, communist, or whatever fringe movement she felt was more edgy at the time. She dressed like it too: all her clothes could have easily come from an upscale Hot Topic. Tonight she wore a white tanktop plastered with the red anarchy symbol on the front. The edginess of the symbol was accented by the open black leather jacket the loosely hung off her shoulders, masking her thin frame. Blood splatter rave pants with at least a dozen chains finished off the look.

An indulgent look of victory permeated the Panda's face once a loud 'WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUCK?!' boomed out from inside the gym, clearly music to her ears. Taking a big satisfied drag of her Jule, Angie billowed her smoke skyward. "Another win for the gay agenda," she declared proudly.

Picking up a poorly-concealed bottle of cheap wine by her boots, she raised it as if in celebration, "Here's to the art club saving the homecoming dance from the evil clutches of Francesca Buchannan. We turned a night of pretentious bougiee circle jerking into a night of degeneracy, debauchery, and bohemian ideals, just like it should be. Homecoming Out for life!" She proclaimed before downing her wine and then chucking the bottle at a nearby metal garbage can, shattering the bottle into a million fragments. A group of nearby girls, that had been innocently getting some fresh air, then looked at the Panda with stunned expression on their muzzles that read, 'why on Earth would you do that?'. Angie just fanned out her arms toward the girls in an aggressive "Yeah I just did that, what you gonna do about it?" gesture along with a couple of sassy sways of her head. They quickly stopped looking at her.

Evidently, the brief encounter with the brainwashed masses that didn't understand the passions of anti-establishment protest was enough to fuel her passions. "Fuck civil society, marriage, religion, gender policing, and the fucking lizard people, oh wait that term doesn't make sense in a furry setting capitalist overlords who perpetuate materialism in an empty, broken system designed to keep the everyday person down!" she roared out for the whole world to ear, raising her fists up in the air in protest.

Jasmine, the tall Lizard, just laughed at her eccentric friend's behavior. Her look was androgynous with her long black wig and prominent makeup contrasting with her buttoned up red flannel shirt. She was definitely a lesbian. A trickle of recollection struck her, prompting her to rummage through her overstuffed heavy-duty orange camping backpack that she always carried with. "That reminds me, I brought my lemon sorbet weed juice to celebrate a job well done!" wiggling her E-cig after replacing the juice.

More music to Angie's ears. "Punk Rock," the Panda stated enthusiastically, before grabbing it from the Lizard's hands and inhaling deeply from it. After savoring the taste and drowsy sensation slowly seeping inward, the Panda grinned at the Lizard. She then started vigorously making out with her, damn.

The short Wolverine, dressed in tattered black rave pants, fingerless gloves and a T-shirt with the logo of the band Disturbed,_sighed at the display. He uncomfortably picked at his eyelined lashes, a bit of a giveaway that he was forcing himself to try to match Angie's aesthetic... but just wasn't quite there yet. And despite all his hard work trying to fit in with her, _this was happening again. After a few dozen seconds of making-out he finally couldn't hold in his frustration. "Angie! I know we're in an open relationship, but do you have to make out with Jasmine while I'm right in front of you?"

That miffed the Panda something fierce, looking back at the Wolverine with royally inconvenienced eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you Jessie? We're not in an open relationship: we're in a lesbian-centric polyamorous thrupple."

"I keep telling you, I don't know what that means!" Jessie protested.

Angie, magnanimous (but not monogamous) as she was, had accepted the burden of being this poor ignorant boy's polyamorous training wheels. "It means while you are part of this relationship, you're my secondary, and Jasmine is my primary. So, she and I have every right to kiss each other in front of you, and anyone else for that matter. Anyway, I'll get to you later, so stop whining."

Not wanting to ruin his already precarious position in the relationship, Jessie just grumbled to himself and resigned himself to his potion as sloppy seconds. It least it was something, right?

Suddenly breaking up the makeout session, the exit to the gym slammed open, and out came a resplendently dressed Husky in visible emotional distress. Her appearance was an immediate buzzkill to Angie. "Oh look, it's the epitome of corrupt corporate scum herself," she said bitterly before taking another drag of sweet lemon sorbet weed. There was little love shared between Angie and Francesca: the two were polar opposites in almost every sense of the word.

It wasn't long before the Husky's forward momentum petered out. Standing in place only a few paces away from the gym's exit, she began sniffling daintily into her gloves. She was doing it at an... awkwardly close distance to the three loiterers.

Angie would have been content to just stand there and watch that piece of shit prep capitalist suffer, Although Jasmine tended to be a little bit more empathetic about... everything, so she address the emotional Husky. "Hey Francesca, is something wrong?" the Lizard called out to which Angie mouthed a big fat 'ugh' to herself.

"Oh, Jasmine," Francesca muttered weakly after a few more sobs, drying her tears with her glove. She hesitated when she saw _Angie_next to the Lizard. But in Francesca's mind, Jasmine was a one of the few not completely imbecilic students at school, which counterbalanced the risk of association with Angie. She approached them. "I'm just having the worst night ever... this homecoming dance was supposed to be a soigne chic soiree, but it ended up as more of a... soiree sans chic soigne..."

"...U-huh," Jasmine commented after a few confused blinks, the meaning totally lost on her.

"I know I don't publicly condone this, but... You do a lot of recreational drugs and medication, right?" Francesca asked cautiously after a deep sigh.

The Lizard snorted at the unnecessary discretion. "Yeah, I've done weed, Mary Jane, cannabis, ganja, dope, grass, I even did pot once," she said with a humorous snicker.

Half the terms clearly flying over Francesca's head. Why couldn't people speak in universal, easy to understand English terms? "Alright... well do you have any Asprin, Xanax, beta blockers, or anything that might calm me down? I've got this splitting headache and I'm just so stressed, and dark as my hour is, as student body president I must see this night through to the end..." she said, bringing her wrist to her forehead as if she were a character in Les Misérables about to expire from scarlet fever.

"Actually, I've got just the thing," Angie brusquely interjected, popping out a small plastic bag from her blood-splatter pants. The bag contained several white pills, one of which Angie forced into Francesca's paws. "Try this: it's like super Xanax. It makes you feel better with none of the drowsiness."

Francesca's brows furrowed. She was clearly turned off by the idea of taking anything from Angie. "What is it called?" she asked dubiously.

"...Vitamin X," Angie answered after a short delay that she reassured only happened because she was drunk and wasn't making up a fake name for it on the spot. "It's chemically the same as Xanax but with healthy all natural, organic, gluten-free, Paleo diet friendly, non-inflammatory, Ketogenic stimulants to keep your energy levels up."

It took a few minutes of Jasmine and Angie tag-team convincing Francesca (though Jasmine was clearly the only one she trusted) that it was fiiiiine before the Husky relented in her suspicions. She slowly brought it to her mouth before desisting. "Why is there a skull and crossbones design etched into it?"

Suspicious pause. "I... commission that design on all of my medicine. You probably wouldn't understand. It's just my aesthetic," Angie explained on the fly.

Such things were clearly not Francesca's realm of expertise, so for all she knew Angie could be telling the truth. "Goth emo?" the Husky asked awkwardly for clarification, as if it were a word in a foreign language.

Cue an exaggerated roll of the Panda's eyes. "Why does everyone keep mistaking me for goth? I'm a punk/grunge rock non-conformist polyamorous radical anarchist. Why is that so hard for people to understand?"

Jessie's ears perked up in recognition that this was a golden chance to finally act superior and knowledgeable about these things to somebody in Angie's presence. "Yeah, they're the goth ones," the Wolverine said, thumbing backwards to a group of several gothic furballs congregating around a circle of lit ritualistic black candles on the sidewalk. One of them being a white Tiger that Francesca recognized to be Rob's demonic little sister.

The black-clad Tiger was reading poetry from her journal in a monotone voice, "Darkness envelops my soul... no meaning to be had in this shallow life... drowning alone I gasp for air... I can only hope my body isn't too rotten for the maggots that will consume it..."

Francesca wasn't touching this one with a ten-foot pole.

"O...kay," the Husky commented, deciding she'd rather just down the pill then get into a conversation about any of that abracadabra-whoozily-foozit. She decided to throw caution to the wind, then dry swallowed the pill. She didn't feel anything immediately.

"So, what's wrong, Francesca? Why don't you tell us all about it for anywhere between five to thirty minutes depending on how much food is in your stomach?" Angie asked with uncharacteristic interest. Nothing suspicious about that wording at all. Nope.

"Oh, it was just a disaster..." Francesca began, proceeding to recant the events of the night, from the zombie attack, to her design idea being trivialized, to Rob flaking on her, to Ellie's multifaceted betrayal...

Angie's bizarre interest persisted. She would back-channel more than even Jasmine with a lot of 'Oh yeah, yeaaahh's, 'Mhm's, 'Oooh, that must suck's and "ooh, I really feel for you's. She intensely soaked in Francesca's profile at every moment, as if waiting for a sudden change.

Halfway in Francesca of course asked if the three furs knew anything about the audacious sabotage of her brilliant concept, which of course they didn't, they were just following the instructions in the email and what ArcAngelo told them to do. With that excuse successfully established, Francesca's story went on for several minutes, until the Husky found herself subconsciously bobbing her head to the music that filtered outside through the exit.

"...Oh. I'm starting to feel a bit better now. I guess the vitamin X is kicking in...This music is actually a lot catchier than I thought it was," Francesca commented with hints of joy returning to her tired voice. She looked the Panda directly in the eyes. "Maybe you're not as bad as I thought. Thank you Angie. I'm going to return to my duties now," she politely said with a curtsy before parting.

"Buh bai, enjoy the sick party," Angie said humorously before taking a long, sweet drag of the E-cig. "Aw, fuck yeah that's good..." the Panda said contentedly, before collapsing her body weight against the wall.

"So, I was mostly just going along with the flow, but did you give her what I think you did?" Jasmine asked with an impressed grin.

"If you're thinking 'molly', then yes," the Panda replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Marijuana kicking in, Angie gazed up toward the infinite night sky, wondering how light could travel so far through darkness and still be... bright.

"Ecstasy?! You gave hard drugs to the student council president?" Jessie asked in exasperation, paws on either side of his head like he was flipping out. Clearly, Angie would have to work on conditioning those normie responses out of him. Couldn't have the Wolverine acting like that if he was ever going to be a non-conformist.

Jessie's unnecessary panic spurred a moment of lucidity in Angie. "Yes. Maybe now that fucking bourgeois conformist will finally learn how to have a good time."

Jasmine began laughing at her girlfriend's whacky antics. "I'm so strangely turned on right now," Jasmine said in an aroused cadence.

"Prove it," the Panda demanded sassily.

And started hardcore lesbian making out with the Panda.

Cue another deep guttural groan from Jessie. "I swear, the things I put up with just to get my dick wet..." he moaned, shaking his head.

"So much to do..." Francesca thought miserably to herself as she reentered the gymnasium, once again dark and filled with raucous romping and indecent sexual displays. But she had bigger things to worry about than just the unfavorable ambience.

As the fearless leader of student council with appearances to keep up, Francesca was going to have to interrogate Arcangelo about that decorations and the accursed email, figure out what she was going to do about Ellie's betrayal, think of some way to save face after her fit on stage... except she didn't feel like doing any of that right now. She leisurely walked toward one of the empty walls off to the side and emptied her mind. When she chose to not worry about all those issues she almost felt... like tonight hadn't been the grandest disaster of her illustrious reign as student council president.

She didn't know why, but she was enjoying loosely swaying her head to the techno music. It just sounded so crisp despite being a far departure from the classical music that she regularly enjoyed. And for some reason it was awfully fun to feel the tingling sensation of tapping the back of her head against the wall...

"Rough night...?" came a voice from the Husky's side. She turned over to see a handsome, tall Iguana laying his weight against the wall right next to her. His exhausted profile suggested that he had also been through the wringer tonight.

"Oh, Jayce..." Francesca let out in a surprised, breathy voice. Seeing him come over to commiserate with her after all that had gone wrong set her to smiling warmly. He slowly tilted his head towards her and returned the smile.

Staring at the reptile's handsome smile lit up some part of Francesca (unbeknownst to her it was actually hard drugs, oops). The thrumming in her chest reached a new level, and she could feel her heart vigorously pumping blood throughout her body.

She became soaked by the present moment. All the crap that had happened earlier? It was as if it had all just been some bad daydream of hers. Her heart was now set to live this night out to its fullest.

"Yeah it's been rough, but..." Francesca began, her eyes dilating though the power of rainbows. "I think it's about to get better."