FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Have you ever made a first impression so bad with somebody, that you just made a complete fool of yourself trying to make it up to them? Well, that happened to me. And the worst part? The guy was really hot: huge muscles, big bulge, gorgeous eyes... FUCK! Thinking back to the first time I met that hottie, I might as well have been in a red wig and nose because I made a damn clown of myself that day. But I think I'm getting ahead of myself here. You all are probably wondering who this disembodied voice is.

My name's Rob Hamilton, no relation to Alexander Hamilton or the titular Dizney+ remake of the shitty musical. I'm proud to say that I'm a panther and a junior at my pandemic-free high school (not sure why I felt the need to specify that...) Grovedale High, situated in the gloriously milquetoast state of Ohio. I'm the kicker for the varsity football team, an internet shitposter, and as you've probably guessed, incredibly gay. But after terrible forced-coming out experience with my parents (who had seen my internet browser history three years ago and learned all the depraved fetishes I was into), I decided that coming out just really wasn't for me. Or so I thought, until I met Daren Williams...

Now let me set the scene for the fateful encounter a little bit: It all started during a Mid-September school day, with me casually absconding from my third period class that shall not be named...

"Rob, are you jumping out of the window again so nobody in the hallway sees you coming out of Japanese class?" my rabbit classmate Jessica asked as I very innocuously unlatched the classroom's crusty-ass window, pried it open, and furtively yeeted my entire body out of it. "This is the second week of class, and you're still doing it. This whole schtick is getting really tired."

*Thud*

"No..." I responded suspiciously from on top of the school's lawn, hurriedly getting up onto my feet and fishing through my backpack. I soon found what I was looking for: one of those cartoon fuzzy nose and glasses disguises that I bought on Etsy. "Because I'm not Robert Hamilton. I'm... Mike Litoris, a trained trapeze artist slash recovering alcoholic from the local circus who's looking for his long-lost daughter that was taken by the sinister foster care system: Dyke Litoris."

Jessica sighed at my genius character backstory. "Rob, why are you so insistent on keeping the fact that you like anime and Japanese stuff a secret from the popular kids?" she asked dryly from within the classroom, arms crossed and resting on the windowsill and she gazed judgmentally down upon me.

I scoffed at the question, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of how high school popularity was the most secure, heavily-fortified closet to hide in. So instead I responded in the most officious, matter-of-fact tone I could manage, "Because as a varsity football player, I'm dedicated to peaking in high school, only to have my life spiral downhill afterwards. So I'll be damned if I lose any of my precious Clout Points by letting it slip to the other popular kids that I'm weaboo trash, because these are supposed to be my golden years!"

"Clout Points?" Jessica repeated dubiously, one of her ears folding to the side. "You mean the stupid point system on school's social media app that measures popularity? You know that's just some manipulative bullshit our evil student council came up with, right?"

"Ah, just let him be paranoid, Jessica-chan," the bane of my existence William Poe, a greasy red marten commented as he appeared by the window, staring down at me with his beady black eyes. "Makes for great blackmail. Anyway, Mike Litoris, where's my hush-payment for this semester?"

I groaned and rolled my eyes as I once again began digging through my Bag of Holding backpack for a degenerate comic book. "Fine... here's your stupid hentai Doujin, Will," I muttered saucily, throwing one of the disgusting byproducts of a cursed subculture to Will. "Don't get a lethal papercut when you fap to it,"

Will's eyes popped open with glee when he read the title. "You actually got it! The My Hero AcaMILFia doujin in full color with Ochako's bonus tentacle rape scene! SUGOI! _Arigatou_Rob-san!"

"Please don't ever say that again Will-kun, it's pretty Kimochi warui," Jessica moaned as she closed the window, leaving me to my amazing life choices.

I groan-sighed to myself as I mourned the thirty-five dollars I spent on ordering that creepy-ass doujin comic. But now that there were no more distractions, it was time to begin my stealth mission. I warily snaked around the West wing of the school, aiming to reach the front. But just before the final corner of the building, I knew I had to survey the danger zone:

About forty feet ahead by the school's dumpster heap was a group of seniors that had 'independent study' class for third period, meaning they just smoked weed outside. Not wanting to be late to my weights and conditioning class, I decided to trust in my elite disguise skills and nonchalantly pass by while keeping a safe distance, hoping they'd be too high to notice me like they usually were. My prayers were not answered.

"Hey, is that Rob?" I heard one of them asked the moment I came into their line of sight, causing me to break out in a cold sweat as I picked up the pace. "The kicker for the varsity football team? What's he doing sneaking around the school's West wing?"

"Don't be stupid Jessie. That can't be Rob because Rob doesn't have a moustache or glasses," one of them berated the other, probably that punk Panda senior Angie. "That's obviously just a recovering alcoholic trapeze artist from the local circus looking for his long-lost daughter."

"Oh... Yeah I guess you're right," Jessie responded, to which I let out a relieved sigh beneath my breath. As I pushed on toward safety, leaving them to have a lovely conversation.

"GUYS NONE OF THIS IS REAL, WE'RE ALL JUST CHARACTERS IN A STORY! HOLY SHIT OUR EXISTENCE IS NOTHING BUT ONES AND ZEROS ON THE INTERNET!"

"Raptor-Jesus Christ Jasmine, lay off the ketamine cookies already! It's not even fourth period!"

Yeah, there's a lot to unpack there, but I'm just going to... not...

Anyway, it didn't take long for me to reach the bend toward the unpopulated front of the school, the big-ass green and white school sign greeting me for the second time today with the all too familiar saying of 'Welcome to Grovedale, home of the Chargers!'. After checking that the coast was clear, I took off my brilliant disguise, and dashed toward the school's main entrance before anyone realized where I had come from. I casually slipped through the doorway, re-entering the green and white world of neglected textbooks, bizarre teen cliques and creepy staff people without drawing much attention.

Alright... time to pretend that I like a bunch of people that I actually find incredibly annoying on my way to class. Gotta accrue those Clout Points: Let's go!

Needless to say, I was dedicated to sucking myself up to anyone with any sort of standing in this school, and so my first obligatory encounter was with a group of fellow varsity jocks congregating by the green and white benches in the main atrium, led by our muscular braindead quarterback, Alistair.

"Hey Rob! Don't you just love football, bro?!" our muscle-bound Doberman quarterback called out to me as he noticed me passing by. The other jocks in the group began nodding their heads in agreement to Alistair's question, having entire side conversations that consisted of only the words 'foot' and 'ball'.

I instinctively cranked up my energy. "Fuck, yeah football's the best, bro!" I replied like a brain-dead potato, pumping my arms downwards in feigned excitement.

"FUCK YEAH, FOOTBALL!" he echoed in a roar, sauntering up to chest bump me in the air. I reciprocated, laughed, did a few finger guns, and continued to mosey toward my class.

God, that guy's so annoying...

Before long I noticed a white tiger in purple and black-striped stockings, a cheap black corset, and messy makeup chatting to an equally black-clad Meerkat by the lockers. This goth also happened to be my freshman little sister, Anne. As a loving big brother, it was my duty to annoy the shit out of her.

"I'm thinking of dyeing my fur black... but then I'll look more like my brother and I don't know how I feel about that. Maybe the spirits of our Victorian ancestors will guide my decision at our séance this weekend," she prattled to her black-clad Meerkat friend as my six foot two somehow managed to stalk behind her, unnoticed.

"Séance? More like, _lame_ance!" I announced in a cartoonishly nasal voice.

My sister's fur immediately bristled, and she turned around to address me in fury, "ROB, STOP IT YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!" she shrieked as I laughed off her exclamation and continued to mosey on over to the east wing.

"_Lame_ance', ha comedy gold!" I thought to myself as I continued my trek amid the sea of students.

I didn't encounter anyone else (that I had to suck up to) until I reached the T-intersection where the East-Wing of the school started, and noticed a large, curtain-draped golden chapel with two long planks on either side, held up in the air by four students that drudged forward. It was a... palanquin, I think? You know, like an ancient fancy caravan thing where instead of wheels, it had... slaves lifting it up by the planks?

Without a doubt that belonged to our evil student body president: Francesca Buchanan. I was hoping she wouldn't have to peak out the curtains for any reason so I didn't have to talk to her, but right as I began turning the corner, one of the improvised beasts of burden student volunteers collapsed from the physical labor, causing the other three palanquin carrier students to quake and nearly drop the vehicle.

"I'm so tired... I need to rest..." the exhausted nerdy looking otter moaned, as the others egged him on to get back up before Francesca came out with the flog again.

But their warning came too late: A well-groomed white Poodle's head peaked out of the curtains, donning one hell of a disapproving smile. "What's the big idea nearly dropping my palanquin- oh hey there Rob," she greeted me to my chagrin, easily noticing my tall frame among the group. "I hope I can count on your vote for homecoming queen next month."

Feeling the evil gaze of our supreme ruler boring into me, I immediately put on the most overstated smile I could manage, "Totally prez! Just look how political you look. How could I not vote for you!"

"Oh Rob, you're so debonair. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to discipline the proletariat real fast," she cooed, before she swiftly turned over to address the exhausted otter with the angriest smile ever imaginable. "I'm sorry Lucas, do you _not_want funding for Film Club's field trip to the Columbus International Film & Animation festival?"

"Yes..." he moaned out in an exhausted croaking noise.

"Then Allions-y, slave! I mean... volunteer!" She said as she pulled out a flog and whipped the shit out of the otter's back, who yelped and got up to trudging along. Ignoring the rampant indentured servitude that was left completely unchecked in our school, I continued my way toward class.

Okay... this was starting to get exhausting; being friendly to scary-ass Francesca was always an ordeal, but I was almost there! The auxiliary gym was just around the corner and I only had one final checkpoint to pass: the army of cheerleader thots.

"And that's why, I'm voting libertarian when I turn 18," Katie Cockbane, the blond vixen head cheerleader concluded right as I passed by, my varsity football aura immediately catching their attention.

"Hey girls!" I called out to the group of six or so cheerleaders. "You all look killer as usual," I complemented, most of the girls giggling.

"Hey, Rob," Katie greeted me with a flirty wink, even though she totally had a boyfriend, you guys. "We were just about to go bully the new girl. You wanna join us?" she asked while twirling her golden locks.

"Yeah, bullying is like... so cool," Katie's valley girl tiger friend, Ashely Ashy chimed in.

I slowly rounded my gaze toward who Katie was pointing to: the strange amorphous ball of dark, intergalactic energy that psychically opened up her locker that doubled as a portal to the seven circles of hell.

My shoulders immediately deflated, "You mean Dra'nakyuek, Destroyer of Worlds, the interdimensional foreign exchange student from Omicron Percy I-8, whose species has evolved so far that they've developed reality-twisting psychic powers and don't even need a physical form anymore? She's who you're gonna bully?" It sounded even stupider coming out of my mouth.

Katie nodded, her boobies giggling as he did so. "Yeah her, DDW. How lame is it that she doesn't even have a physical form?"

"Like, totally lame," Ashly agreed.

"I bet she can't even drive!" one of the cheerleader set extras chimed in.

I had to stop my facial muscles from contorting into a massive frown because I couldn't help but consider what a terrible idea this was. "Nah, I'm... I'm good. I already bullied... so many nerds on the way here. Good luck with that though, ladies. I gotta pump some iron in weights class now. Cya," I said as I slowly slid away to class, half the cheerleaders there flirtily moaning 'aww' as I made my exit.

Katie just shrugged at my answer, "Your loss. All right girls, let's go emotionally abuse the shit out of her," she demanded as her army of loyal servants followed.

I didn't dare stay to witness the aftermath at the world's most unabashed attempt to bully someone, but I did happen to pick up on the conversation as I continued to walk to class: "Hey DDW, nice purse, where did you get it, a hardware store? Ahahaha!"

"SUFFER IN YOUR DESPAIR!" a cacophonous, otherworldly voice of a thousand agonized souls speaking at once snapped back, unfathomable depths of bloodshed and malice bleeding into the four words.

Suddenly, with the resonating crack of hell lightning striking a body, all of reality was cast into a blazing red and black nightmare for a split second, my sense of grounding and gravity distorting into a spiral of nothing and everything at the same time. For a moment, all that could be heard was Katie's terrorized scream of "AAAAAAAHHHHH!"

With that, the warped universe quickly righted itself, and while I recovered from one hell of a bout of vertigo, I could hear Ashley failing to resuscitate her, "Katie, like... Katie? Like damn, she's like out cold. I guess bullying... just isn't worth it. The more you knooooooow~"

I sighed to myself, cursing this school's shitty foreign exchange program as I trudged dazed yet undaunted toward my fourth period class, murmurs of 'what the hell just happened?' and 'I think I just pooped my pants' popping up from the other hapless students that were caught in the crossfire of DDW's hell-world spell.

As nauseous as I and everyone else nearby seemed to be, I figured nobody would notice if I checked out of 'jock mode' for a while, and just hurried to class so I could mentally wash myself clean of whatever the fuck just happened. Paw pressed against my throbbing head, I carelessly turned the corner, unaware of the equally inattentive muscular mass that walked on the other side.

*bomph* went my body as I collided into another person with a disrupted sense of balance, staggering backwards. Catching myself before I toppled over, I noticed that the guy I bumped into was this big, beefy Rottweiler, almost as tall as me. I didn't recognize him (probably a senior?), but dayumn son, he was a hottie. He had some big cute floppy ears, a glossy dark coat of black and tan fur and a pair of stunning amber eyes. Even better was that he was wearing a white tank-top shirt that showed off his killer guns and criminally round and muscular pecs that I could gawk at all day. Better yet, his sweat pants seemed to be half a size too small, and they clung tightly to a thick bulge in his pants. Caught off guard as I was, it only took a moment for me to feel myself begin salivating.

Holy shit... if that's how big he is flaccid... Shit, I'm staring! Bro it up Rob, quick before he suspects what a homo you are!

Luckily I shook myself out of my gay trance before the Rottie got a chance to really look at me. His confused expression didn't read as angry or anything, just caught off guard. He looked up at me with his dazzling eyes and mumbled something about suddenly feeling dizzy and what I imagined was some sort of an apology.

I did what I always do when a hot guy says something to me: play it off as a joke. "Hey sorry pupper, didn't see you there!" I laughed as I playfully patted him on the shoulder. I thought it was a totally innocent interaction, but the moment my paw touched his shoulder, the Rottie's expression darkened something fierce, his jaw clenching into a glower that easily spelled out 'Imma fucking wreck you'.

At that I felt all the hair on my back bristle in anticipation of getting clobbered, but luckily he did not end my existence: he opted instead to let out a single snarly huff and broodily walk away, intentionally bumping my shoulder again. I was left there, gobsmacked like a total dunce.

Considering that my vital arteries were still intact, I decided to count my blessings and just move on. I of course still made one of my sardonic comments. "Geeze, who murdered his family?" I mumbled to myself as I shook my head, hoping the joke would help me shrug off the ill-fated encounter.

Spolier alert: it didn't.

After an intense fourth period of lifting weights on questionable equipment, recording all my exercise on a spreadsheet and a shower and fur-dry, I was thinking up a storm in the locker room as to what the hell went wrong with me and that Rottweiler.

What was up with that Rottweiler, and why was he so fucking cold to me? Everyone loves me! I'm the golden boy of the school! I was totally nice and friendly after accidentally bumping into him, and he just suddenly titled on me for no reason! No way he's going to be popular in this school if he keeps on acting like an angry sourpuss salty boi! I wonder what his damage is-

"AAHHH" I blurted out as my reverie was interrupted by a wet palm slap to my ass, with nothing but my dinky towel to protect me. I turned around to identify the culprit, the familiar, sexy culprit whose snow-white fur was still mostly wet. Around his waist precariously clung an equally white towel, threatening to fall off at any moment.

"'Sup Robby!" Scott laughed, with one of his impish polar bear smiles. "You've been a lot quieter than usual. Something up?" He asked in that cheerful voice of his.

This serial ass-slapper was Scott Fenton, the center for the varsity football and my best friend, an energetic and carefree polar bear and the only guy I let call me 'Robby'. He was five foot eleven with a pair of excitable blue eyes, and a large but cute (and constantly twitching) nose on his smoky-grey muzzle. Of course, the thing I found most attractive about him was his six-pack abs. Holy shit, Scott's abs. It was like I had a freaking underwear model for a best friend. I mean, I've got a decent six-pack myself, but you could grate cheese on Scott's.

But there was a great tragedy paired with this hotness: Scott was straight, and he was dating Katie Cockbane to boot. So before you ask, the Rob x Scott ship had long since sailed, crashed into an iceberg, sunk like the Titanic (too soon?) and been officially condemned. Of course, being straight didn't stop him from being the greatest gay tease to ever exist. Scott seemed to love physical contact with guys, and as previously demonstrated, wasn't afraid to get all touchy-feely with me when I was wearing next to nothing. But it was totally not gay when he did stuff like that. Apparently there's this unspoken rule in high school that if you're a popular enough jock you can do as much gay shit as you want and still be considered straight as long as you're not an 'F-A-G' about it.Yeah, I know it makes no fucking sense, but we all know it's true.

With Scott's sexual harassment being pretty much an everyday ordeal for me, I didn't even bother to make a comment on his friendly ass-slap. "Well... I guess something sorta happened? DDW had another tantrum spell attack and made everyone in the nearby area dizzy, so then I bump-crashed into this big-ass rottweiler in the hallway while I was heading to class. He looked like a student, though I hadn't seen him before now. Any idea who he is?"

Scott took off his towel, balled it up in his paws and threw it across the room into the towel bin, imitating the technique of a basketball player. "Big-ass rottie, huh? That sounds like Daren. He's in my physics class, and I think he's a senior who transferred here this year. Why you curious Robby, something happen between you and him?" Scott was facing me with his hands on his hips as he talked, still completely nude. See what I mean by him being a tease? And how big his tool down there was didn't help either...

Desiring a bit more protection, I slipped my boxers on before facing Scott and his full-frontal nudity. "Apparently, though I don't know exactly what happened. I just sort of bumped into him in the hallway, apologized, patted him on the shoulder and said 'sorry pupper'. Like that's completely normal, right? No reason for him to glare at me like he wanted to go terminator on my ass," I contemplated with my paws turned upwards.

Scott's expression went to full on gooped and gagged mode, as if he couldn't believe what a stupid thing I just did. "Holy shit dude, you called Daren the P-word? That's totally racist!" Scott informed me with a shit eating grin, clearly living for the drama that I found myself in.

Defense Mode: Activated. Begging rationalization protocol.

"What?! That's ridiculous! Calling a dog 'pupper' isn't racist! They call themselves that all the time!" I protested, arms now spread wide open in exasperation.

Scott began breaking down in laughter, slapping his knees as I felt my cheeks and hotter, "Lolmygod, Robby, I'm serious here; you're totally about to get cancelled here. What you did was like... nearly as bad as if you called me Cola breath or made a tasteless global warming joke! Or if you made a joke about Marty's tits lactating. Isn't that right Marticus?" Scott said mirthfully as he thumbed our bull friend who was also changing in our aisle.

For reference, Marty (AKA: Marticus) was a brown bull of average height, and a bit on the thicker side, but with a significant amount of muscle in his arms and chest. He became our friend through varsity, and he was a good guy, but... let's just say he wasn't the full shilling. That's a PC way to say stupid, right?

"...What was the question?" Marty asked in return with his usual vacant expression. He turned to us with his shirt off, plump pecs vulnerable and facing our direction.

"I said, isn't that right Marticus?" Scott echoed as he mercilessly proceeded to purple nurple the living shit out of Marty's nips.

"AH!" Marty yelled out in pain. "YES! Whatever the question was, yes!"

Satisfied with the bull's answer, Scott grinned at me proudly and expectantly. "See Robby? Even Marticus agrees."

"You know Scott, that's not really the most convincing argument," I replied with a cocked eyebrow, saying nothing about how mildly erotic I found Scott twisting Marty's nipples.

Scott chuckled before shrugging with upturned paws, "I dunno man, I have like a sixth sense about woke shit like this. But if you're not convinced, we should go ask Toru together! Get the answer directly from the source!"

With perfect timing, our token doggo friend friend, Toru, came out from the fur driers, looking like a poofy-potato with his shiba fur sticking up on edge. He had a build similar to Marty's; he was just a bit shorter and not quite as chubby, but he was still a thick boi.

"Hey Toooru," I leaded in conspicuously, looming over him as he fidgeted with his locker.

"Hey guys, why are you all hovering over me?" Toru asked in his innocent, squeaky voice. I shot a quick sidelong glance at Scott and Marty who had followed me for no perceivable reason than shits and giggles.

Scott lips curled open in a devilish grin. "Cause we're gonna gang-bang you, Toru, that's why!" Scott cackled, evilly wiggling his fingers in the air like a cartoon villain.

"W-What?!" Toru whined out loud, oblivious that Scott's joke was in fact a joke. I could have sworn I saw Toru's junk twitch a little bit, but it was probably my gay imagination playing tricks on me.

"What? Scott, no... God. Look Toru, I just needed you to absolve me of my racism had a question about dog things for you real fast. And these chucklefucks just decided to follow me for some reason," I said derisively, thumbing over to Scott (who still hadn't put any clothes on goddammit) and Marty, whose eyes darted back and forth between the three of us, trying to catch up to the conversation.

"Oh..." Toru said breathily, weirdly sounding almost disappointed. "What's the question then?" he asked with a tilted head, triangular ears perked up.

Getting down to business, I folded my paws together, and then pointed them at Toru, hoping he would enable me to not have to give a shit. "Is it racist if I... call a dog 'pupper'? I might have done it and I just want to make sure it wasn't a thing."

Toru's eyes widened into large saucers, his jaw dropping. "You called a dog the P-word? Oh... yeah that's not good. That's... bad."

I felt my gut sink at the realization that I might have actually done something wrong. "You... you mean what I said was..." I began, my voice cracking with dread, an imaginary knife of fear cutting through my throat.

Toru nodded with an air of moderate seriousness. "Yeah, I mean, if you did call a dog the P-word, then what you said was kind of..." All of reality seemed to slow down as his next word hit me like a truck, my spiritual bowels emptying themselves, and my paws seemed to gravitate toward the sides of my head.

"RAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSST"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! If people realize I said something racist, I won't be popular anymore!" I bellowed out in a jittery, panicked voice, any hopes of remaining in the upper high school echelons escaping my body with my cry. "Why does this have to happen to me? I'm going to be cancelled! Oh, why me...?" I lamented, torment playing across my face, as I slumped down to the ground in the fetal position, wallowing in my own misfortune.

Scott and Marty exchanged uncertain glances as Toru cocked his head at me and my totally justified melodramatics. After a brief moment of contemplation, the shiba knitted his eyebrows at me disapprovingly, "That's what you're worried about?"

The revelation that I 'did a racist' punched me so hard that a scene transition happened and I was now suddenly in my final sixth period Algebra 2 class. I normally did my best to try to actually learn at this shitshow of a school, but with how indubitably fucked my social standing would be if what I said got out, I didn't have the energy to really focus on teh mathz. After a while of next to no participation in class, Mr. Schultz began to ask increasingly charged questions about parabolas.

"No volunteers to tell us what the answer is, huh? Alright, maybe we should make this a bit more fun! Let's pretend that X represents the amount of times my whoring bitch of a wife cheated on me, and Y represents the amount of years I wasted with a pointless marriage. Is that what you kids are into these days? Seeing your underpaid and underappreciated teachers suffer?! Huh?! FEEL LIKE SOLVING FOR THE COORDINATES NOW?!" the ostrich screamed, his itty-bitty outburst catching my attention for a moment.

A deafening silence filled the classroom as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. One of the students coughed. Then another sniffed.

I feel like these metaphors for the problems are getting increasingly personal and uncomfortable...

Sighing, I turned over to my right to check the clock to see what the hell time it was now, only to see an abnormality sitting to my right: a middle-aged pink-axolotl wearing a cheerleader outfit about three sizes too small for her. The love handles and body rolls were real.

"Creepy lunch lady Erma? What did you do to the girl who usually sits next to me?!" I asked, completely befuddled by the crusty mess that sat next to me.

"What're you talking about, sexy? It's me: Mercedes. I've always sat here," she cooed back in a seductive tone, rolling her exposed, wrinkly shoulders at me.

My face cringed in horror. "No you're not! You're like thirty years older and Mercedes is a llama!"

"Don't worry about it," she replied dismissively, flicking her wrist as if it was the perfect defense against any and all allegations. "Anyway, I'm learning this new trick where a drink a bunch of liquor and let you do whatever you want to me... I'm getting really good at it," she purred, cupping and fondling her breasts.

*inelegant gagging noises*

"Mr. Hamilton!" Mr. Schultz yelled, causing my whole body to surge up in attention now that the class' half-attention was focused on me. "If you've got time for slapstick humor, then you've got time to solve for X! What are the coordinates?!"

"Mr Schultz, I'm a bit too distracted to solve for X considering that Creepy Lunch Lady Erma apparently abducted Mercedes and has apparently successfully posed as her for the last half hour!"

"Incorrect!" the ostrich chastised, his slanted eyes now directed at the axolotl sitting next to me. "And what about you Merce-"

"X is 47 and Y is 13," the imposter replied smoothly, rolling her saggy boobs back and forth. Mr. Schultz's hard expression immediately cracked in surprise at the sound of a correct answer.

"That's... correct..." Mr. Schultz all but whispered back, a never before seen look of appreciation permeating his face.

"Meaning your wife cheated on you forty-seven times and you spent thirteen years in a pointless marriage. But... I would never do that to you. You deserve better~" she said childishly with a few flutters of her eyelashes, curling the locks of the brunette wig she had duct taped onto her bald head.

My teacher's expression melted into goo at that. "Mercedes, you're... the first student to ever listen to what I was saying."

"Mr. Shultz, I'm telling you she is not Merce-"

"Be quiet, you dumb jock!" Mr. Schultz silenced me. His adoring expression quickly returned as he readdressed 'Mercedes', eyes now burning with a fiery passion. "I-I'm in love with you, Mercedes. I... I'll quit my job just so we can be together! Please Mercedes, elope with me!" he declared to entire earth and all above, kneeling down in a proposal posture in front of the entire damn class, opening up a bag of Cheetos he had lying on his desk in place of an engagement ring box.

My jaw dropped down thirteen stories as the axolotl swooned as if all her deepest fantasies had just been actualized, "Oh yes Mr. Schultz, I do! Conquer my underaged cheerleader body with your penis!" the very not-teenaged axolotl sensually intoned as she took a Cheeto out of the bag and ritualistically chomped on it. Then she jumped into his arms and began sloppily making out with him he carried her out of the classroom, leaving a room of bored highschoolers unattended.

Rob.exe has stopped working.

For a few moments, the class just sat in silence as it always did, soaking in recent event with a delay that screamed 'stuck on buffering'. It wasn't until one student broke the silence that things started getting wild: "Hell yeah, our teacher just eloped with a student! We get the rest of the period off!"

"Let's form primitive societies and revert to tribal warfare!" someone else eagerly suggested.

"YEAH!" over half the class roared as they quickly formed tribes and began an epic balled up paper war and began plotting their mutual destruction.

I zoned out and slumped forward on my desk as the classroom broke into chaos. I was really tired of all this chaotic bullshit, but at the very least, I was grateful that Mr. Schultz's fucked up love life had afforded me some time to think about what the hell I was going to do about the P-word situation I had gotten myself into. I had to apologize as quickly as possible before Daren said something to his parents, or even worse: Twitter. If I didn't, I'd get cancelled and then wouldn't just lose my popularity: I'd become unpopular! A pariah, even! My mind began racing a marathon thinking about how I could possibly find someone I knew next to nothing about before they left for home. And right about when I began considering whether I'd need to flee the country in shame, I realized there was somebody in the classroom that could probably help me locate the victim of my racist microaggression: Allie Borgois, the greatest squirrel socialite slash Fujoshi in all of Ohio.

I moseyed on over to the back of the classroom where Allie sat with her lynx friend, Marietta, who had the world's largest braces contraption that probably constituted as dental malpractice. Luckily Allie hadn't gotten caught up in the tribal warfare (which had now devolved to the prisoner of war stage), and was instead chatting about what was probably some gay otome visual novel with Mariette. Not that I uh... know anything about those.

"No, I'm telling you, Aoba is totally a uke. You can just tell by the way he hungrily looks at-"

With only a few minutes left in class, I quickly broke the ice, interrupting their conversation, "Hey Allie, sorry to interrupt, but I need you to do me a real solid here. Since you seem to know everybody in this school, I wanted to ask if you know where Daren might go after school. He's a Rottweiler and probably a senior. Transfer student too, I think?"

Allie's eyebrows piqued up in interest. "Daren Williams? Oh yeah, you know I totally sent my spy network to stalk him the moment I heard we were getting a mysterious transfer student with massive muscles. I know all about him," she replied proudly, Marrietta's eyes lighting up at the mention of a hottie, drool easily escaping the large gaps in her teeth.

I swallowed my spit, hoping this conversation wouldn't take a turn south. "Great, soo... do you know where I can find him after school?" I asked as casually as I could manage for such a specific request, goofily double finger gunning her.

"Yeeeeeeah," the squirrel replied cryptically.

"...And where would that be?" I asked, slightly miffed as her coy response.

"Well, what do I get in return if I tell you?" she replied with a cocky stare, mischievously playing with the straps to her dungarees.

"How about you make out with Collin Guz over there for us?" Marietta suggested, pointing to a plainly-dressed beaver student who was a prisoner of war in one of the student tribe's makeshift desk jails. "He's all vulnerable right now... I'd be so hot. I love sexual warcrimes."

"Ooh, great suggestion Marietta," Allie giggled with glee as she threaded her fingers together, causing my heart to skip a beat. I couldn't help but cringe internally at how of course the conversation had already devolved into intense homoeroticism.

"No, that's... gay. I'm not doing that," I weakly rejected, despite that fact that deep down I thought it was a totally sweat deal.

It was at this moment that a kangaroo student from the Marrow-Eaters tribe jumped up to the lighting fixture on the ceiling, and managed to cling onto it with his thighs. From his upside-down vantage point he began barraging the makeshift desk fort of the Burning Tree tribe with textbooks that his tribemates tossed him, letting out a warcry of "DEATH TO THE BURNING TREES! ETHNIC CLEANSING!"

After a brief moment of sucking in the scenery, Allie re-addressed me, "Rob, our class literally just started an imaginary race war. I don't think anyone's gonna care or remember if you do something gay for like 2 seconds today."

"Yeah what happens in Algebra 2 stays in algebra 2," Marietta nodded in agreement.

"I don't care... I'm not gonna do it because I'm straight and straight guys don't kiss other dudes! It's basic algebra... 2..." I volleyed back matter of factly, arms placed assertively on my hips.

Allie rolled her eyes at my reply, "Okay well... if you won't do anything gay for us, how about you let Marietta feel you up then for like fifteen seconds then? That's straight," she offered with a half-hearted shrug.

"Ooooh I like this idea!" Marietta giddily chimed in, clapping her hands together like she was at a twink-forward K-pop concert.

Fuck no, that's way worse!

"Hell yeah, that's way better! Because it's... straight..." I trailed off as I look with suppressed horror at the now nearly hyperventilating lynx. Rivers of drool flowed down Marietta's perpetually yanked open mouth, lust whirling in her eyes as she tugged down on her headpiece so hard it looked like she was about to rip it off by accident.

"I can't wait to feel up your taint and asshole! I'm going to pretend like my fingers are tiny dicks!" the Lynx panted in sexual rapture, globs of spit flying everywhere as she rapped her fingers across her cheeks.

"Uh,technically straight... whatever, feel away, Marietta!" I announced proudly despite the fact that I was internally banging my head to a bloody pulp at the stupid mess I had found myself into.

"Ohoho... I'm going to imprint this moment deep into my brain so I can masturbate to it for the rest of my life!" she announced unabashedly as she menacingly stalked towards me, eyes deviously targeting my ass. I immediately regretting my decision.

"Just to make things clear, I'm only letting you do this because I'm not racist," I proclaimed in a bout of sudden nerves as icy paws make contact with my belt.

"Uh... okay," Marietta said in confusion before she proceeded to commit a deed most foul.

"Fifteen seconds later..." a gratuitously French narrator voice announced.

"I feel so violated!" I cried out, finding myself on the ground in the fetal position for the second time today, paws protectively cupping my poor poor taint. All the while freaking Marietta just reclined back in her desk seat, basking in the pleasure of sexual afterglow of having ground-zeroed my boy parts.

"Well that's what you get for being straight. Serves you right," Allie joked glibly with far too many layers of irony than I cared to comment on, wiping the anime-esque nosebleed from her muzzle.

"Whatever, are you happy now?!" I yelled out angrily back to Allie as I took back up, my ears now hotter than the hottest of hot takes.

"Yeah totally," the squirrel responded casually, as if I had done nothing more than lent her a pencil. "I'll hold up my end of the bargain. Daren usually does him homework in the library after school. Check there, end scene."

Right then the school bell rang serendipitously and suddenly all the war-painted students reverted back to normal highschoolers. They promptly exited the classroom, leaving it looking like a war-torn wasteland that was assaulted by M.C. Escher.

"I'll remember this humiliation..." I muttered bitterly, doing the 'I'm watching you' finger gesture as I slowly backed up, snatched my backpack, and made my escape from the giggling squirrel and lynx. My poor taint might never be the same, but at least I had a lead now.

A quick message to the varsity football GroupMe that I was probably going to be late to practice, and I was off on my pilgrimage to apologize to Daren to avoid getting cancelled on Twitter. I made myself smaller by slouching as I traversed the busy sea of students in the crowded hallways; best to avoid as many interactions with randos who wanted to say 'hi' to me. Thankfully hallway greetings tend to be sparse when school's out for the day, and I managed to make it to the library on the second floor without having to introduce another thirty characters wasting too much time. It was fairly large room, filled with rows upon rows of towering bookcases filled with unused books no that no one ever read, and a million different posters about how 'sizzlin', 'dank', 'flaming fire', 'ice cold' and *shudders*, 'lit' literature was.

I didn't want to waste too much time scouring the large room if I didn't have to, so I figured asking the librarian if she knew where Daren usually sat here. It'd been a while since I'd last been in the school library... Who was the librarian again? Oh yeah, Mrs. Grevenieks! The school's parrot librarian had a reputation of being exceptionally terrifying. I wasn't worried though. After all, how bad could she possibly be?

I approached the librarian's counter left to the library's double door entrance; Mrs. Grevenieks was on the station's computer, staring at the screen intensely as if were a letter from her lover that went off to war in Vietnam. "Hi, excuse me, Mrs. Grevenieks?" I asked politely.

She stood up abruptly from her seat to address me. "HOW MAY I HELP YOU MY DEAR? SQUAWK!" the elderly green and orange parrot said in a piercing, shrill voice of a thousand puppies getting shredded in a wood chipper. And no, I had no idea why she felt the need to pronounce 'squawk'.

"nyaahhh!" I yelped out at the sudden increase in decibels in the room, before slowly realizing that my flinching might be interpreted as rude, and sheepishly did my best to relax in front of this... lovely individual. "Um, well I was wondering if you could tell me if... ah..."

Cocking her head, the parrot brought her beak uncomfortably close to my muzzle, scrutinizing me with her left eye, the other one just sort of looking downwards lifelessly.

"I DON'T REMEMBER YOU VERY WELL. YOU MUST BE NEW HERE! I JUST HOPE THAT MY LAZY EYE DOESN'T TURN YOU OFF AT ALL. OR MY HALITOSIS, BECAUSE THERE'S THAT TOO! I'VE BEEN TOLD I'M A MASSIVE LIABILITY FOR ANYONE WITH A SENSITIVE NOSE!"

All I could do was stare at her with a frightened slack-jawed expression.

"WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR? CHECKING OUT A BOOK IS IT? ALWAYS GOOD TO SEE CHILDREN READING BOOKS. YOU KIDS AND YOUR TIK TOKS AND INSTAGRAMS AND BLOOD SACRIFICES AND YOUTOOBZ AND COMMUNIST REVOLUTIONS, NOBODY APPRECIATES A GOOD BOOK ANYMORE! YOU'RE A GOOD EGG! SQUAWK!"

I took a step back and raised a finger in protest. "Uh, no actually I.."

Suddenly Mrs. Grevenieks furrowed her feather brows and make a somehow even creepier, twisted and aggravated face. "UNLIKE THOSE OTHER CHILDREN THAT ONLY COME IN HERE TO DO THEIR HOMEWORK! DAMN THOSE LITTLE BASTARDS; DON'T THEY REALIZE THAT LIBRARIES ARE MEANT FOR READING BOOKS!?" Suddenly her expression turned entirely neutral again. She looked as if she just forgot something. "WAIT, WHAT WERE YOU HERE FOR AGAIN?!"

Okay, fuck this creepy bitch. "Uh, nothing, actually! I think I'll just ah... leave..." I said meekly as I slowly backed away and turned around.

"JUST DON'T DO ANY HOMEWORK WHILE YOU'RE HERE!" she shrieked as I made my way far, far away from her.

On second thought, maybe I should just look for him myself.

Perturbed as fuck by my encounter with the librarian, I uncomfortably shuffled over to the central study/reading area, full of those ugly study stations with the built-in computer and tall wooden partitions. This was probably my best place to start looking.

"Okay, If I were a mysterious transfer student, with an insanely hot body, where would I want to do my homework?" I mused out lout before being assaulted by a barrage of 'SHHH's and dirty looks by most the other furs studying in the area. Oh hell naw!

"What kind of stereotypical cartoon library is this?!" I snarked back to the hivemind library students before once again being silenced by a loud cacophony of 'SHHH's, leaving me with bristled fur, flattened ears and a scrunch on my face that read 'saltier than the Caspian Sea.'

"Yo, you supposed to whisper in here. Ain't you see the 'no talking in here assholes' sign?" A familiar sounding voice whispered to me from behind a nearby study station.

"Oh, sorry Daren, I guess I'm just so frazzled from looking for Daren that I didn't notice."

"Uh... 'aight." Daren responded, clearly confused at the obvious elephant in the room that I still hadn't noticed.

After one of the stupidest three-second brain delays that I had ever had, I had to stop myself from jumping upwards after realizing just who the hell I was talking too. Winding around the nearest cubbyhole to my right, my eyes laid upon a Greek god of a Rottweiler, eying me back humorlessly. He had literally been within ten feet of me, the partitions keeping him just out of sight. It was oddly amusing, but not quite as amusing as how tiny Daren's pencil looked contrasted to his massive arms.

"Wait, you're Daren!" I whispered enthusiastically, knowing that my fluffy butt was now saved.

"...Yeah," he responded dryly if I were stating the most obvious thing in the world... which I sort of was.

"Care to talk mono-a-mono really fast? Preferably outside where the shushing brigade can't hear us?"

Daren sucked in some air before he huffed in mild exasperation, placing his things back in his backpack which he then strapped onto his back. He headed toward the exit and made a paw motion for me to follow.

By the time he had gotten back into the hallway, most of the students had already left the building, save for a few stragglers, but it was still decently private for a conversation, especially considering how the school's upper level was usually much less frequented. The Rottie didn't seem too pleased by my offer to talk. "Okay, what do you want?" Daren said disinterestedly. His voice was deep and gruff, but surprisingly soothing at the same time. I liked it; it was the type of voice that you would hear on commercials trying to sell you fancy chocolate or a membership to a dating app or something.

"Look, I just wanted to address something about the P-word thing that happened earlier today," I said, trying my best to sound genuinely apologetic. And considerate as always, I made extra sure not to give him any unsolicited pats on the shoulder when I gave him my Oscar-winning apology. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm so sorry... that you were offended by what I said."

"Oh my fucking god this dense motherfucker."

"What was that?" I asked not quite catching what he said.

Daren just rolled his eyes as if I had given him the shittiest apology in the world (I didn't though, right?!), and then cocked his eyebrow at me. "Okay. Sure. Whatever. That all?" was his simple, understated response. It really didn't put me at ease.

"Look, I'm not racist or anything, I swear! I just sort of call everyone funny sounding words I hear on the internet. You understand right? It was just a misunderstanding." I said in my best good-guy Rob voice, folding my ears back trying to look all friendly and innocent. "No need to tweet about it or anything!"

Daren sighed, clearly quite done with the conversation. "It's fine. Just forget about it," he said yieldingly.

Okay, making progress, but still not really the response I was looking for. I needed to secure the legacy of my popularity, and half measure were not going to cut it! "Come on dude, don't be like that. Hey, actually, is there anything I can do to make it up for you? Come on, anything you want: just name it!"

This got his attention; his floppy right ear raised up slowly. "Hmm," he murmured, bringing a paw to his chin, stoking it in contemplation. For a few moments he started appraisingly me. Looking up, down, really soaking in every aspect of my person: my ears, my tail, my arms, my chest, my burnt auburn head-hair and eyebrows, my uh... crotch too I think. The last thing he looked at was my eyes, his stunning amber eyes locking in with my blue ones. He gave himself a slight nod as he brought his paw back down.

He raised an eyebrow. "You really wanna make it up to me?" he asked in a serious tone.

"Yeah dude, I'll do anything. Come on, just give me a chance!" I pleaded.

It was just for a fraction of a second, but I swear I saw a faint impression of a smile on Daren's lips."Aight then, go out on a date with me," he said, completely deadpan.

I froze as my hackles started sticking up; there was no way I could have heard that right. "W-What?" I stammered.

"You heard what I said. You. Me. Date. That's how you can make it up to me, fam," he said, pointing at me then himself to exemplify. "You said you'd do anything, so don't be half-steppin' on me now. I wanna go on a date with you."

Half-stepping? What the hell does that mean? AndI thought I was good with lingo!

Wait, dammit Rob's Mind, that's not what's important right now!

Holy shit, I had just gotten asked out on a date by one of the hottest guys in school, even if it was a strange and roundabout way. Was I blushing? Yeah, I was blushing. Shit, usually I tried to keep my 'straight-boy Rob' act up at all times, but I guess it couldn't be helped; there was no way I was going to manage my facade after an advance as forward as that, from a guy as hot as he was. And if this is what it took for me to get out of my P-word problems then... I mean yeah? The only caveat, was that if I was gonna do this, then I decided that had to at least not be a complete cringey fruit about it.

"Y-Yeah, okay, murr... I mean, I'd um, like that senpai... uWu" I stammered, my mouth seeming to speak on its own in nonsensical meme-ery as I began blushing despite myself.

Well fuck, I tried.

Daren didn't seem to be expecting my affirmative response. Or all the unnecessary garbage I included in it, but mostly he seemed surprised that I replied with a 'yes'. "Wait, seriously?" he asked, seemingly amused by my flustered state and cracking a slight smile.

I-It's not like I'm going to date you because I like you or anything you d-dummy!

Okay seriously Rob's Mind, shut the fuck up! That joke was never funny!

"I mean, I did say I wanted to make it up to you," I said, completely oblivious to the fact that I was fiddling my thumbs. I felt so flushed at that moment that I wouldn't have been surprised if the fur on my face started turning a rosy pink.

Daren grinned, "Heh. I mean, I wasn't really serious." My eyes widened as I broke into a cold sweat. Daren's grin devolved to a full-on smirk at my obvious expense. "You know, I was just suggesting a date to try to offend your masculinity or whatever."

Oh.

Ooooh.

Oh fuck.

Oh f u c k, he was joking?! Argh, why was I so bad at realizing things like this? Fuckmefuckmefuckme, how was I going to get myself out of this one?

"I, um, I, uh..." I started stammering, my mind a torrent racing a mile a minute, trying to scrape out some sort of feasible excuse. "Uh, some, uh, people out there in our nation don't have maps and, uh, I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and, uh, the Iraq, everywhere like such as, and, I believe that they should, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S., uh, or, uh..."

By babbling incoherently, apparently. Good going Rob.

Daren chuckled softly at my flustered babble of shame, and his smirk relaxed to a regular smile, "Buuut I guess I ain't gonna mind a date with a good-looking guy like you..." he said smoothly.

Oh.

Ooooh.

Oh okay, we're good! I internally sighed in relief, feeling as if my soul had almost left my body and disastrously crashed like the Apollo 11, only to now have it safely return home just like the 1986 Space Shuttle Challenger.

"Why don't you start by shooting me your digits?" he said as he pulled an outdated smartphone that looked like it was from the ancient bygone era of the early 2010's.

"Uh, what?" I asked, uncertain as to what exactly he meant.

He looked at me with a hint of irritation. "Digits, you know, your phone number?"

Wooooow did I feel stupid for that one. Digits... of course that meant phone number! Argh, he even had his phone out while he said it! I guess he was gonna add me on Tok Tik, or Instagram or Muzzlebook or maybe even our school's 'Socialite' app. Some Sherlock Holmes I was...

So I told him my digits and he promptly punched it into his phone. "I'll text you my address," he said as he started doing so. "Saturday at 7 work for you?" he asked casually. I nodded. "Cool. I'm also gonna need you to pick me up from my place if you wanna go anywhere in Columbus. You gotta car?" I nodded again. "'Aight, solid. You can pick me up then. Since you'll be driving you can pick the restaurant, but you gonna be paying."

"I am?" I interjected.

Daren gave off a half huff, half laugh. "'Course you are. You did want to be cool with me, right?"

No arguing with that, so I just nodded demurely. Daren continued, seemingly much more eager to talk than he was a few moments before. "Anyway, you can dress up if you want, but I ain't planning to. I ain't got nothing nice to wear anyhow. Oh, if you want to pick out a movie or whatever after dinner, that's fine too. Yeah, and after all that, if you want to maybe..." he smirked, "have some fun, well... I'd be down for that," he said smoothly with a lascivious lick of his lips and very suggestive smile. "How that sound?" he practically purred the last line.

My pants got uncomfortably tight as I felt a tent forming by my crotch. Holy salmonella-cakes, I never realized how hot just talking to somebody could be. "That sounds... good," I managed, practically mesmerized by his bright smile and soothing voice.

He closed his phone and stuffed it back in his pockets. "'Aight then, it's a date." With a bounce in his step, he walked past me and back to the library entrance and opened up one of the double doors. The muscular rottie looked back at me and smirked seductively.

"I'll see you Saturday at seven then... stud," he said before returning back to the library, his tail wagging the whole time.

I wasn't quite sure how long I stood in place trying to process what just happened. Despite everything that had happened today, everything else felt done and over at that moment. I wasn't thinking about how late I was to football practice, or what a major bullet I managed to dodge, or even about preserving my own popularity. No, the thought I was left with was just simple, basic, and hella thirsty:

_FUCK YEAH, I NABBED ME A DATE! _