FSE

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"Come on bro, it won't be that bad."

Grimm punched Djembo in the shoulder, causing the thin Basenji to recoil. "Ow!" Djembo whined softly, running his black claws through fur the color of rich desert sand as he rubbed his arm. "Look man, I know, I promise I know...but something about this whole thing doesn't sit right with me. It's a niggling feeling, kinda like when you get popcorn stuck in your tooth and it's just, you know, there." He spoke with his hands a little zealously, and coupled with the way his shoulders were hunched, one could make a safe guess that the canine was quite nervous about something.

Seated next to him as a scientific example of opposites, Grimm was cool, confident, and quite "hunky" as the ladies might put it. He was a beefy Doberman/Rottie mix, mostly the latter save for his high pointed ears and his slender face. Years of serious bodybuilding gave him a frame that was as intimidating as it was delicious looking, his sleeves rolled up over exploding biceps they could never dream of containing, his slab-like chest threatening to shred his XXL shirt in two every time he took a breath. After getting turned down for the football team in high school, he never really got over it and swore he'd make them regret it. Even though he had been naturally blessed with a giant frame, however, he lacked motivation. Why work out when you're the biggest guy in school? His failed tryout showed him how unfit he actually was, and it was a big blow to his self esteem. He punched holes in his walls and cursed at nothing when he got home, making an oath that from that day forward, nobody would even make him -feel- small ever again.

For years he bit down on his self-loathing and frequented a gym named "Galaxy Health," a place full of grunting jocks, weekend warriors, and especially after Thanksgiving and New Years, soccer moms hogging the treadmills. It even had a cheesy tagline, "Get Galactic Guns," but Grimm could not care less, such was his desire to rise above. Friends and family would tell him that he should slow down, complaining about his fitting into their cars or how much he'd eat, but hearing all of this talk about how big he was only made him smile and revel in the feeling of being bigger than his fellow furs. The irony of his tiny feelings of self-worth in such a gargantuan body was one of the only things that he chose to let escape him.

During one of his many trips to the gym, he'd met Djembo, and was captivated by his strange looks and infallible work ethic when he hit the weights. Djembo let his headfur grow long, but what most people would call hair, most animals would find a little..."different." He styled it into spunky spikes that wildly pointed out this direction and that. It sat around his large, plate-like ears nicely, his short snout always wearing a smile (except for today, of course.) He was much more lithe than Grimm, and no matter how hard he pounded the bench every day, he was cursed with a stringy-looking swimmer's build. Unfortunate, because his father was never shy about his "daughter's looks" and how "he thought he had a son." You could practically hear the anger and frustration every time a bar that Djembo was lifting slammed against a mat in the gym. He had a feeling that Grimm was also a bit hard on himself, and figured that birds of a feather were meant to flock together. Grimm took an interest in him in order to learn the secret behind how hard he was able to push himself, and Djembo took an interest in Grimm because of the dog's Herculean stature. After a conversation about music in the locker room, they saw a concert together and their friendship blossomed quickly.

Which takes us to today, where the two are sitting on a crowded bus that was headed towards the bustling city center of Trotsplain. Starting as a friendly port town, it quickly grew into a commercialized mecca of neon signs and credit cards. Neither of them liked going, but they had both received an invitation from the gym that was a little too good to pass up.

"Man, can you believe this? I'm still geeking out about it!" cheesed Grimm, staring at the invite and slapping it with the back of his hand. "That little podunk slamhouse thinks that we're so special that we get to try out some supplements before they hit the market. Look at this one," he said, holding the flyer up to Djembo's nose and tapping it with a claw. "'Adds Bite to Your Bark,' it says. This stuff hasn't even been tested yet! We could reach unprecedented levels! The higher plane! Top of the chain!" He was practically foaming at the mouth with excitement.

"Yeah, uh...sure." Djembo gently pushed the flyer away, looking down at his footpaws. "So, like, how do you know that they didn't send this out to everybody? If you made me come all the way downtown to have them spring a fucking timeshare or something on us, I swear I -will- learn necromancy. That way when I kill you, I can kill you a hundred more times." He rolled his eyes and connected gazes with Grimm. "Besides, how do you know those will even work? What if they're sugar pills, or just some kinda poppers jacked with Taurine?"

Grimm folded his arms over his chest and plastered a smug smirk across his face, grunting with his head turned away. "Don't you think I thought of that? Wait, did I say that right? Probably. Anyway, I talked to Tony and Sangria and Simsy, and they said they didn't get one. See, it's hand-signed by the CEO guy. I bet that the owner told him that we, like, kick so much ass that we need new ass to kick, so he was all 'Come on in and sit in my money chairs! Would you like to eat some of my money candy? How about a money cigarette? We light them with money, la dee do da durr.'" He punctuated the last part of that sentence with a stupid voice and hand puppetry that made the other bus patrons look on in confusion. A barking laugh came from the smaller dog sitting next to him, and that was all it took to make Grimm smile.

---

If one were to gaze inside the highest window of the Trotsplain skyscraper emblazoned with "Galaxy Health Inc," they would be peeking in on a scrawny white goat, his long beard spilled on the table in front of him as he hunched over a stack of papers. "Damn this! Damn all of it!" he bleated, dragging his hoof across the desk angrily. It caused the papers to fly everywhere and fall like square snowflakes around him.

Hearing the commotion, his lab assistant, an African Grey parrot, opened the door with trepidation and stepped inside as if the floor was covered in glass shards. "H-hey," he stuttered. "Is everything alri-..." The bird looked around him, horrified as he watched the papers flutter down. "William!" he shouted. "You know our deadline is three days from now! Don't go around destroying our research, you idiot! I, for one, am much too busy to stand in an unemployment line!"

William tugged on his beard and straightened up, taking a deep breath. The parrot noticed that his skin turned a slightly less intense shade of pink, and calmed down as well. "Emery," said William, "it doesn't matter. The company is going to destroy whatever I show mercy towards. We only needed one thing, and you know that. The side effects test." The goat looked down dejectedly, letting his shoulders roll forward. "I called every single lead. Nobody wants to take the dive. How can they, with a selling point like 'Please take an obscene amount of our medicine and maybe die so other people won't?' Back in my day, it would have been easy to convince a college kid that fifty bucks was worth putting his personal safety at risk, but today's society is much different." Emery nodded and pretended to listen, letting the goat go on with his old man ranting. "But look at all this -shit- they get their heads filled with!" William shouted, kicking his desk as he cursed. "GMO this, organic that, nobody's got a pair of goddamn balls anymore! Scared little mice, they are!"

Emery ruffled his feathers and pouted. "Hey, my sister's dating a mouse. That's not funny. I am glad I heard you up here causing a scene, because I thought you should know that we have two subjects on the way right now." William raised a hoof and started to speak, but Emery held up his scaly hand and hushed him. "I know what you're going to ask. 'What makes you so sure they'll take it?'" The goat clamped shut, blushing at the parrot's astute senses. "I can be sure," Emery continued, "because I am a double doctorate. Besides being a chemist, I dabbled in psychology. I personally asked the owner of one of those...disgusting workout places to send us whoever he thought had major self esteem issues and was on the young side. Not only is that our demographic, but they will be quite easy to manipulate, I presume."

William let his mouth fall open again, but this time it was soundless. "Emery, I had no idea you were such an evil genius."

The parrot stepped towards the large plate-glass window in the room, taking care not to step on their research papers. Looking out over the city, he cooed tenderly, his eyes wistful. "I am not evil, Will. Nobody is ever a saint when money's involved."

---

"So yeah, I'm in town on business, but only for a couple days. Whatcha doin toni-"

Grimm felt himself being tugged back as Djembo grabbed his collar and pulled him off the bus, interrupting his game talk with a cute-faced hipster vixen. Her beaming smile and rosy cheeks were like candy to Grimm, and he was rather sure he had that one in his pocket. "Come on man, what the hell?!" he yelled, punching Djembo in the arm again. "That was in the bag! That bus driver's gonna need a mop to clean up where she was sitting."

Djembo rubbed his arm once more. "Goddamn it dude, you hit like a fucking truck. Stop that. And look, if you weren't so busy pretending you were about to get laid you'd see that we're here. The last thing I want to do is get lost down here." Djembo bit his lip and rubbed his arm again, staring at the ground. Why couldn't he get girls to talk to him like that? Probably because he looked like one himself. He blinked a few times and shook his head, deciding to do what he always did to cover his insecurities: be snarky. "And business? What the hell kind of business are you supposed to be in? Didn't I see you in one of those meth ads?"

"Ha ha, dick. Very funny. For your information, bitch-bagging is so totally a business." Grimm stared up at the "Galaxy Health Inc." sign at the top of the building, his generous deltoids pushing his ears closer together. He lowered his gaze to look around for a couple more ladies to talk to, but noticed something he found troubling. Everyone was looking down at their smartphones, talking to their own groups of friends, eating, reading, or one of many things. Which is to say, nobody was paying attention to him. He grimaced and headed towards the building's large double doors, neglecting to tell Djembo until the Basenji turned and saw his huge friend duck under the doorway. He shouted after him and followed inside.

---

Emery stepped back from the window, pointing over his shoulder. "They're here, William. The big one seems to enjoy speaking with females, and the skinny one is a bit pushy. I can only guess why they're friends." He narrowed his eyes, a smile creeping from ear to ear. "I do believe I know what the first piece is to play in our chess game."

---

The two dogs were greeted by security at the door, and after a short back-and-forth with the secretary, were introduced to the exciting, fast-paced world of sitting in a waiting room. Djembo flipped through magazines, turning pages with disinterest, while Grimm was buzzing up and down, his very being infused with anticipation. After what seemed like a million years, a chubby iguana in a labcoat entered, his eyes glued to a clipboard. "D-...De...jumbo?" he called, adjusting his glasses.

"You say it like 'gem-bow.'" The Basenji stood up and stretched, looking back at Grimm, who had his arms up in protest.

"You get to go first? Aww, gaw...fine. Just hurry up, okay?" The stacked Dobie leaned forward and tapped his footpaw uncomfortably.

Djembo was lead to a doctor's office that was so clean, it seemed dirty. Blindingly intense soft white lights were installed in the ceiling, and they gave every spotless surface a glossy sheen. Djembo was snapped out of his reverie, however, when the iguana grabbed his shoulder, making him hiss in pain. Noticing the lizard's strange looks, he laughed uneasily. "Uh, my friend likes to punch. You've seen his arms."

"Indeed," said the iguana. "Much bigger than mine...or yours."

Djembo shot him an icy glare and sat on a long metal table in the middle of the room, wishing he'd brought a jacket. They always kept these places so cold. "So, doctor, what do we start with? I've got places to be and stuff to do, you know how it is. If there's anywhere we can cut corners..."

The iguana sighed in exasperation, fiddling with one of his head crests and fixing his glasses again. "Mister Djembo, we do not cut corners with research. I am sorry, but you agreed to a day's worth of testing." The lizard's eyes met the dog's, deadly serious. "We -will- get every minute of it."

Something about the reptile's demeanor was off-putting to Djembo, and he found it hard to keep eye contact. "Uh, oooookay then. How about I ask a different way. What do I have to do?"

"That's simple," said the iguana. "You take this supplement that we have been developing, and we record your reactions. All we ask is that you are completely honest and answer to the best of your abilities." He flipped a page over the back of his clipboard, wiping the paper clean with one hand and scratching the side his head with the other. "First, however, there are some preliminary questions. This won't take more than a few minutes, I assure you."

---

"Is this working?"

Unknown to Djembo, the iguana nodded, tapping at his ear-hole to adjust the microphone inside.

"Good, I can see you on the monitors." Emery hunched forward on his office desk and grabbed his coffee mug, blowing the vapor on top in a wayward direction. "Now listen carefully, and speak as I do."

---

"Okay," said the lizard. "The first section of questions is a basic data sample. With no name attached, and again, I stress honesty, could you please tell me your height, weight, and blood type?"

"5'11" last I checked, 132, O positive," Djembo shot back rapidly.

"132 pounds at almost 6 feet? The owner told us that you work out almost two hours every day," said the reptile.

Djembo bit his bottom lip hard enough to leave a little mark when he let it spring back. His head pointed down towards his chest. "I do," he growled softly. "I understand that those are not typical results. Trust me, I understand better than anyone else." He noticed he was gripping the edge of the table quite hard, and breathed deeply before straightening up. "Can we just, like, move on to the next questions? You didn't ask me to elaborate."

"Most certainly, sir. I'm sorry if you feel uncomfortable. Next, I'd like to ask you what fuels your workout sessions, or put another way, simply why you exert yourself so much every day," said the lizard, watching Djembo wrinkle his nose.

"Personal reasons."

---

Emery cracked his knuckles, setting his cup down after a sip. He was wearing a cheshire grin.

"Jackpot," he mouthed silently, then moved the microphone back in front of his face.

---

"Personal reasons?" repeated the iguana. "We'll need you to be more specific. We need to isolate any activites that might have an adverse effect with these pills."

Djembo groaned and started kicking his legs, getting agitated. "Oh my god, fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I go to the gym every day to find a place where my dad won't come visit me or talk to me. He's always given me shit since I was a little puppy about how skinny I was and how feminine my body is, and lord knows I won't ever run into that fat bastard anywhere within a five mile radius of workout equipment." He swept his arms out in a broad motion, presenting his invisible baggage to the doctor. "That's why I go to Galaxy Health."

"So it's to heighten your self-esteem, basically," said the reptile.

"What? No!" shouted Djembo, catching himself and lowering his tone of voice. Why was he getting defensive? "No, I like myself. I take good care of myself and I have good friends."

"How much time do you socialize compared to how much time you exercise?" asked the iguana matter-of-factly.

Djembo opened his mouth to respond, then realized he had no response. Not one that wouldn't mortify him, anyways. He bared his teeth in embarassed frustration, unable to lift his head up. How did this stupid lizard know just what to say to make him feel worthless?

The reptile nodded. "I see." His claws seemed to echo like bomb blasts to Djembo as he paced back and forth, flipping another page on his clipboard. "Alright then, this next section is about your typical activities outside of the gym." He smiled, winking at the Basenji. "Part of the research is chemical, but of course, you understand that once this hits the shelves, we want to make sure we're marketing it to the right person."

"Wh-whatever..." muttered Djembo, hugging himself with one arm while staring into his lap.

"So what is a normal week like for you, Djembo? Do you like to go to the movies? Do you ever go out to eat? What about personal hobbies?"

The dog pinned his ears back, trying his hardest to think. All he had dedicated his life to for the last couple years was making his father proud of him. He honestly couldn't think of anything he liked to do as much as hit the gym. He'd even cancel plans or just plain blow them off to go put in a few reps. "Uh, I like...war...movies, and Ital-...Chinese food. And I like to um, build model robots," he lied, trying to make things up on the spot.

"Very good! I'm a big fan of war movies myself. I always liked..."

Djembo zoned out while the doctor talked, digging under his nails and tuning the iguana's voice to a dull drone. He felt so great before this stupid doctor made him be all...truthful with himself. Was his life really that empty? He had never sat down and thought about it before. All that he had to do was get bigger, and then all of his idiotic problems would be solved. No more daddy issues. He didn't care how he got there. He looked up, steeling himself. He'd take these pills no matter what. Anything to give him purpose.

---

"That's enough, doctor."

Leaning back in his chair, Emery whistled, his coffee cup nearly empty now. "Look at his eyes, they're dead. Got this one before I even finished my afternoon brew! I am shocked we haven't been trying this route before. Take him in for the test."

---

"...and that's why I think foam models are better than plastic ones." The doctor finished his drivel and grabbed Djembo on the shoulder again, making the canine jump in surprise. "But, that's all the preliminary questions we need to answer! Now comes the fun part, right? Ha ha ha!" The lizard reached inside of his jacket and produced a plain white capsule, holding it towards Djembo's disaffected visage. "This is the suppliment, made especially for canines. We don't have a name for it yet, but we're always open to suggestions."

Letting Djembo grab the cylinder, the doctor straightened his lab coat. "Let me explain what is going to happen in the simplest terms. In your hands, you hold a tube of nanoscopic mechanical applicators, or nanomachines, if you will, that latch on to key muscle groups and build synthetic fibers when the muscles need repairing, i.e. after every workout. It -should- ensure the erasure of plateaus and physical limitations, a feature which I'm sure you will enjoy." Djembo cringed at that sentence, making it obvious that the doctor was twisting the knife at this point.

"However," continued the lizard, "here comes the, uh...fine print, if you will. The tests we are conducting today pertain mostly to the impact of an overdose on the body. We are going to ask you to purposely take more than the recommended amount, but be assured that we do so within the realm of safety. You will not be harmed in any way, because we possess a killswitch for the machines that will eject them into your bloodstream, disintigrating them into harmless materials that will easily and painlessly be passed through your urine. Do you have any questions?"

"Just one, actually," said Djembo. "If I'm the first person to test these, how do you know all of that will work?"

"To return your gift of honesty, we don't. I believe, and I hope I'm not out of line by saying this..." The iguana hopped up on the table next to Djembo, staring straight into the middle of his eyes. "I believe you want to try it anyway."

Djembo swallowed and nodded, handing the capsule back to the lizard. "You're pretty smart, doc."

---

Emery burst into cheering, pounding his fist on the desk. "Excellent! YES! I knew it, I knew I'd outsmart one of those stupid meatheads any damn day of the week. That's right, you idiot jock. Put that money right in my pocket."

"What?"

Emery turned around to see William standing behind him, wearing a grimace. "I understand your jubilation, Emery, but why are you insulting him? You don't even know anything but his first name, you know."

The parrot turned back around and rubbed his neck, looking angrily at the floor. He suddenly whipped around and began to leave his office, speaking over his shoulder at William. "Personal reasons. Go get the big one, we'll need him soon."

---

Djembo was taken to a featureless chamber which was doused in the same bright light as before. It was actually so white, it was starting to make his head hurt. The reptilian doctor led him to a chair in the middle of the room which was surrounded by all manner of blinking lights and whirring machinery. "Please remove your clothing," said the iguana.

"Whoa whoa whoa, now you didn't say anything about me having to get naked or anything. I don't..." Djembo clenched his hand into a fist. "You know I don't like the way I look," he half-whispered under his breath, looking away from the doctor in shame.

"Mister Djembo, I assure you that nobody will see you aside from myself and our technological specialist," sighed the lizard. "It's only once, never again."

"Alright, fine. Can you at least leave the room first?" asked the Basenji.

"Unfortunately, no. I must place these electrodes on you in order to monitor your health and the status of the nanobots."

Djembo turned red and felt his breath catch in his throat. It's alright, he told himself. It's nothing but the first step to the rest of his life...if it worked. No, no. -When- it worked. He began to peel off his shirt, a tight-fitting jersey-style T with blue rings around the neck and arms. The front of the otherwise white shirt showed a tough-looking cat dressed as a pirate, with a mean smirk on his face, representing one of Djembo's favorite sports teams. As it fell to the ground, his tawny, short and coarse fur was almost golden under the bright lamps of the laboratory. Highly-defined muscles stretched across every single inch of his skin, yet none of them bulged out with any sense of power. Suffice it to say, however, he was cut like a diamond. He shivered a little and his cheeks got slightly pink as he felt his ebony nipples harden in the cold air. Next came his pants, a pair of corderoy jeans that flared out slightly at the bottom. They were also tight-fitting, and as he cast it aside to the fabric pool at his feet, it was evident that his legs were much like the rest of his body, impeccably cut but not impressively sized.

"Those too," said the doctor, pointing at Djembo's light blue boxer-briefs.

"W-what? Why?" asked the dog.

"There is one other area we like to keep an eye on, not literally of course. Obviously, sexual health is a big concern for men these days, and we would like to be sure we are not responsible for any...accidents," hissed the iguana, playing with his nails absentmindedly. "Look, it's really not that big of a deal. I've got one too, you see them every day at the gym, come on."

After another shiver at the cold, Djembo locked his jaws together and felt his ears burn. "Jesus, f-f-fine." Hooking his claws to the inside of his waistband, he hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, and pulled them down. From the back, one would see his wiry tail curled upwards above a taut, tight behind, with tantalizingly rounded cheeks. The front revealed a view of an average-looking sheath, hanging slightly off his body, above two jumbo-egg sized balls. They looked a bit disproportionate, but Djembo enjoyed having them, they were the only thing on his body really bigger than normal. The very tip of his bright red penis hung out slightly from the top rim of his furry skin-sling, almost like it was peeking out to see why someone had turned on the air conditioning. For his part, Djembo's face was almost the same color as his cock.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Now, please hold still," said the iguana, picking up a few cords and straightening them from the machine to the electrode. After seating Djembo on the cold metal chair, he attached a few to his chest, a few to his arms, his neck and shoulders, his forehead, all over his body. He even attached one to each testicle and slid one inside of Djembo's sheath, making him yelp and making him jerk his legs. "I said to hold still," said the doctor, shaking his head.

"Th-th-th..." stammered Djembo, biting the side of his hand so hard it left marks. "Th-that wasn't in the paper I signed!"

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I'm reptilian, mine works sort of the same way. Don't feel scared, it's the last one. Just let me do my job." The doctor moved in and applied the last electrode much more gently and slowly this time, stepping away after he was finished. "Alright, we're all done. Now, I'm going to give you four tablets, and I would like you to swallow them after I leave the room." He dropped the pills in Djembo's hand and turned around, whipping his tail around his leg. "Good luck, sir."

"Wait!" yelled the Basenji. "Why are you leaving?"

"I had assumed it would make you more comfortable. We will watch from a room adjacent to this one."

---

The iguana walked away from Djembo and pressed his claw on a wall panel, causing a section of it to slide upwards with a 'whoosh' sound. Inside was an observation chamber, filled with darkness, technology, and a door that exited to a back hallway for easy researcher access. After stepping inside, he closed the sliding door leading to the test room, turning to look at the two-way mirror the researchers had installed in the wall. He heard clapping behind him, and spun around with a start. "Mister Emery!" he said, smiling smugly. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Where's my payment for playing a part in your little plan? We agreed on quite the sum, if you remember correctly."

"I do," said Emery, locking the door to the observation chamber. There were no other entrances into the room. He turned to look outside as Djembo swallowed all four pills at once. "However, we are not sure if it works yet. I'm going to have to ask you to be amoral for a bit longer today."

"Amoral? In what sense? I'm done playing your games, Emery. Let me out of here this instant, and I want that money in my hand by the end of today."

Emery brandished a scalpel from his pocket, twirling it in his fingers. "Sit down, doctor. You will not cost me my paycheck. I assure you that you will get your money, but we will need to turn a blind eye to a few things for the next few minutes."

The iguana let his mouth drop open, holding his arms up defensively. "What the -fuck- are you doing?!" he yelled, backing away in fear. "Are you seriously threatening me?"

"As much as you threaten our future," said Emery. "You know just as well as I do what we need to accomplish today."

The lizard nodded and gulped, knowing what was coming next. He couldn't argue.

"Now continue your little acting stint, sit in that chair, and take your notes," Emery continued. "And no matter what, do not hit that killswitch."

"What about the dog, Djembo? What if he...?" the lizard asked, rolling his wrist.

Emery sighed. "We've got around 45 minutes until the nanos are at full power." He set the scalpel down on top of a brilliantly lighted console in the otherwise blackened room. "Let me tell you a story."

---

14 YEARS AGO

A pair of scaled talons were bent over the edge of a trashcan emblazoned with a school crest that read "Trotsplain Prep", grey feathers scattered everywhere.

"Ha ha! Sssstand much, -nerd?-" taunted a boyish Copperhead snake, giggling along with his two friends, a tiger shark and a field rat. All three were wearing matching school uniforms, a blue sweater vest with a dress shirt underneath and eggshell chinos. The snake kicked the side of the trashcan for good measure, laughing harder as it fell over. "What a fucked-up spazthhh. Come on guyssss, let'ssss go do ssssomething worthhh our while." With a snap of his fingers, the snake's cronies followed him around the corner and out of sight.

Emery poked his head from the trashcan, the sides of his beak wet with tears and today's cafeteria food. He hefted himself out of the garbage, laying on the floor for a few seconds as though the weight of his sorrow made him unable to stand. Not only did he get teased again today, his dad was going to murder him for getting another uniform ruined. Ever since he made it into this "prestigious" high school, it was nonstop torment for him. He was the poorest kid here, only able to even dream of attending because of his astronomical aptitude scores. His dad was a single parent whom Emery's mother left for a prissy macaw. Emery had heard them fighting, heard his mom yell about "needing a real man" and how she was "tired of feeling like the head of the house." She didn't even say goodbye to him as she walked out of his life forever. Emery himself was meek, friendless, and weak, and the rich, pompous kids at this school seemed to get their rocks off on trying to shove him places he couldn't fit or slapping his lunch tray from his hands.

Finally, Emery was able to pick himself off the ground and stumble towards one of the exits of the school. He was just thankful that class was over for today, so nobody saw him wallowing in self-pity and cheese sauce. As he opened the doors, he watched in amazement as the same brown snake from before went skidding face first across the steps in front of him. The reptile stood and wiped some tears from his eyes, his arms trembling, the hisses that drew out his words getting even worse. "You're lucky thhhhat I'm molting, you ssssstupid hulking piecethhhh of sssshit!" he yelled at someone Emery couldn't see, picking ribbons of skin from his chin and neck. "If thhhhere were markssss, you'd be in jail!" He wiped his eyes again and ran off, his two friends already two streets down.

"I saw what they did."

Emery shifted his gaze from the retreating bullies to the source of the deep, rumbling voice, and found himself eye-to-chest with someone much taller than himself. He craned his neck up and was met with a warm, friendly smile from a polar bear that had to be as wide as Emery was tall. He was wearing a uniform from the school, but it was much too small for him, riding up on his stomach so Emery could see his chiseled abs peeking underneath every time he drew a breath. The ursine's expansive chest jutted out from his body for what seemed like miles, obscuring a bit of his face as he stared down at the parrot. "I'm sorry that happened to you. You're okay now." Wrapping his arms around Emery, the polar bear squeezed gently and stepped back. "I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. If you couldn't tell, I kinda get picked on a lot, too. My name is Kruto, what's yours?" The bear held out a paw that looked like it could hold Emery's head like an egg...and crush it like one, too.

"I-I'm Emery..." said the parrot, brushing the ground beef juice from his hand on his pants before offering it out for a shake. Kruto's hand made his own look like a baby's. "Do you...do you go here?"

"I do," said Kruto, the corners of his mouth turning down. "I'm a super super-junior. I'm...I'm not very smart. And cuz'a how big I am, the other kids don't wanna play with me. They think I'll hurt 'em or something. I can hear them whisper behind my back about how much of a freak I am. I just come from a strong warrior family way, way up north. I can't help my genes. It's not...it's not fair." Kruto leaned against the handrail going down the stairs, running a hand over the top of his head. "My pops says that I can make friends and get a scholarship if I play football, but I like building things. I don't want to play sports forever. I want to learn how to make a house. My guidance counselor said I should be an architect."

"An architect is a fine thing to be. If you're a junior, you're the same year as me, then," said Emery, amazed that somebody was talking to him and didn't insult him yet. An idea hit him like a lightning bolt. His eyes lit up, and he held up a finger with a smile. "I've got a proposition for you, Kruto.

"A proper-stitchin?" Kruto asked, turning his head sideways.

"Prop-oh-zi-shun," Emery sounded out. "It's when you ask someone if they are okay with an idea that you have. My idea is that, if you can keep these jerks off my back, I promise you that come hell or high water, we will graduate from this school together. I can tutor you in anything. Then, you won't have to play football to go to college. You could do what you want, and I can live in peace."

Kruto shook his fists in the air, a megawatt grin returning to his face. "So not only are you not afraid of me, you actually -want- to kick it with me?" He grabbed Emery by the shoulder, causing the parrot to smile meekly. "Of course I'll do it, man! I already learned what a prop-oh-zi-shun is! In fact, I prop-o-zi-shun that we should go to the movies, right now. My treat. I hope you can see good, though. I have to sit in the back."

"See -well,-" Emery corrected, and Kruto smiled sheepishly. "We'll make a learned man out of you yet. What about my uniform? It's all nasty." Emery swept his hands down his front, shaking away grease and only God knew what else.

"Don't worry, we'll stop by the laundromat," Kruto said. "Now come on, before I pick ya up and chuck ya there."

---

After Emery got home that night, he sat in his chair, looking over his finished homework. He couldn't get the events of earlier out of his head, for once not due to the usual reasons of fear and regret. No, this time, he smiled as he thought back on the day. Even though he'd gotten beaten up, his clothes washed clean and his father was none the wiser. Kruto had treated him so kindly as well, and now he finally had a method of protection. He felt so safe, so warm around the bear. He was everything Emery wanted in a friend. He set down his papers and leaned back in his chair, happily sighing and closing his eyes. His thoughts drifted towards Kruto, envisioning all of the fun things he could go out and do with his friend now that he wasn't afraid. His ripped, manly friend.

Wait, what?

Emery shook his head, his breath catching in his throat. What the hell was that thought? He tried to shift the direction his mind was going, but to no avail. The feeling of safety and happiness that fell on him when Kruto had hugged him stuck around in his mind like glue. He grabbed the sides of his head and leaned forward, his face feeling hot, his fingers lacing into his feathers. In his mind's eye, he saw Kruto taking his shirt off, the sun glistening on every crevice of his mountainous body.

"N-No," Emery whimpered. "No..." His body was admitting what his head was not yet able to, however, his temperature rising, his breaths coming in scared, ragged stabs.

The Kruto in his imagination turned towards him and smiled, curling his arms forward in a crab-flex that seemed to pop his tightly-clinging skin to almost bursting. He rolled his shoulders back and gave a smug look, complete with bedroom eyes, and started to unbutton his nearly painted-on jeans.

Emery punched himself in the side of the face. "Oh God, oh, please, stop..." he whined, starting to tear up. "Get out! Get -out of my head!- I'm not...I-I'm not..." He tried to finish, but couldn't. He just curled his head up in his lap, grinding his beak together.

No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, the vision would not stop playing in his head. Kruto unzipped his jeans, pulling them down over thighs that bulged like hills, that looked like they could turn concrete to dust, unveiling a pair of tight briefs. They hugged his package like a second skin, leaving nothing to guess at. Even though he'd never seen it, Emery imagined he must have been as thick as his bicep, 10 or 11 inches long, tucked snugly over balls that seemed like grapefruits.

The parrot squealed and fell to the ground, having leaned forward too far in his chair. He rolled to his side, his face feeling like it was on fire, his pajamas tented with a bead of precum soaking through. He wiped a tear from his eye and stood to lock his door, flopping down on his bed back-first, ignoring his arousal and staring into the infinite space of his ceiling.

He was gay.

---

Two years passed, and every second that Emery was around Kruto he had to hide his feelings. Not had to, maybe, but he felt that way. He had no idea how the bear would react if he said something, and didn't want to ruin their relationship. They had spent almost every day together, being each other's only company, and so their friendship grew as strong as steel. They finished each other's sentences, knew everything about each other, and nobody picked on Emery anymore. All he had been doing in return was staying by Kruto's side in class and making sure he was learning at the same pace as everyone else.

Eventually, graduation day rolled by, and the two were enjoying each other's company at Emery's house as usual, getting dressed in their gowns and waiting for Kruto's father to pick them up for the ceremony. Kruto could not fit in Emery's dad's tiny jalopy. "Aw man, are you sure about this?" Kruto asked, nervously pulling on the tassle on the side of his hat. Kruto was not very sure that he even liked wearing something so close to a dress, but Emery had stitched two graduation robes together in order to make one that fit the ursine's mighty shape, and spent quite a lot of time on it. Plus, the gowns were mandatory.

"Don't worry big guy, you'll be fine," said Emery, reaching up and batting Kruto's hand away from his cap. "Besides, you only have to wear it one night. After that, it goes in your closet forever until your high school reunion or you need a tablecloth." He laughed and straightened his own robe, preening over his sharp looks. Hanging out with the bear had given him much more confidence.

"Well, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," Kruto said, smiling timidly at Emery. "I can't put into words how much I appreciate you and what you've done. I can't believe I'm going to college! The first person in my family, even. My dad is so proud of me. He said this is why he came to this country. He almost cried, I think...what a girl!" Kruto clutched his stomach and laughed heartily.

Emery laughed as well, waving his hand dismissively. "It was nothing, my friend. I can honestly say the same in kind. I would be pulverized by now if you weren't watching my back. I might have had to move to a different school, or worse." Emery shook his head, clicking his tongue. "But, we don't have to worry about that now. We're hours away from the rest of our lives! Aren't you excited?" Before Kruto could answer, there was honking from outside. The two got up and headed out the door, shooting in-jokes back and forth and laughing up a storm. Emery let Kruto go through the door first, his fingers gingerly touching his own throat as his feelings welled up again like they did nearly every time he was with the ursine. Tonight...tonight would be the night.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, minus a little prank with the headmaster and a fart machine. Afterwards, Emery swam through the crowd of students and parents, spotting Kruto from across the auditorium...not that he was hard to spot. Tugging on the bottom of his gown, Emery got his attention and motioned him outside, unable to speak over the thunderous racket. It was drizzling a bit, but they both found shelter underneath a dimly lit awning near the end of the parking lot. "Well, painless, right? Where are you going for your degree?" asked Emery, taking his hat off and holding it in front of him.

"Probably Trot State. I read up on their professors and they seem really respected. I think a degree from there would be like candy to people wanting architects," said Kruto, smiling broadly. "Plus, you know, party school."

"Right, hahaha..." laughed Emery, the sadness apparent in his half-hearted laughter.

"What's the matter, bro?" questioned Kruto, tilting his head, his smile shifting to concern. "Shouldn't you be happy?"

"I'm, uh..." Emery looked to the side, shifting his gaze away. "I'm going out of state. The only school that offered a scholarship that was enough for a full ride is all the way in the southeast. I don't think we'll see each other again for quite a while. That's why I wanted to talk to you, uh...I had something to tell you."

"Oh, I understand," said Kruto. "I'm not very good at goodbyes either. Or math. Or reading." He chuckled and patted Emery's shoulder. "I won't lie, I'm pretty bummed too. That doesn't mean we won't both come home for the holidays, right? We could see each other then."

"No, no, that's not it." Emery scooted closer, inches away from Kruto. He looked up and connected gazes with him, clearing his throat. His whole body was one giant heartbeat, and the pounding of it was deafening in his ears. He took a deep breath and, ignoring how hot his face was getting, began to speak. "If I don't tell you now, I never will, and I'll regret it forever. Kruto, during these last couple years, you've been more than a friend to me. I think..." Emery swallowed hard, his body shivering. He took a second to calm down and balled his hands into fists, using the courage Kruto had bestowed upon him through their time together to continue. "I think that's why I like you as more than a friend."

If Kruto's mouth had hung open any farther, his jaw would have unhinged. He took a step back, raising a hand to his chest. "Dude, I...what? You mean like brothers, right? Brothers?"

"No, Kruto. I've worked with you almost every week now for the last 24 months. I know you're smarter than that." Emery closed the distance between them and placed both of his hands on Kruto's wide chest, reveling in the feeling of finally doing so. His eyes traveled upwards to meet with the bear's, his lids heavy with desire. "You know what I mean."

"Kruto? Kruto, my son! You are grown man now, and you still wander like child? Where are y-"

Kruto's dad walked around the corner from the side of the building, dropping his paper program onto the soaked asphalt of the parking lot as soon as he saw what was happening. His white fur turned pink with rage, and his gaze turned to freezing poison. "What in the name of northern lights are you doing, Kruto?!" he screamed, stomping his foot down on the fallen booklet. "I ask teacher inside where you go, and I am finding you doing this? You are a disgrace to our heritage! I do not come to this country so my son can flop wrists around with Emery! I knew you two are hanging out too much, but I never suspect such...such..." He circled his arms, trying to find the right word. "Such fag-ness!"

"Dad, no! It's not what it looks like!" cried Kruto, throwing Emery to the ground, causing the parrot to squawk in surprise. His hat rolled out into the rain, and other parents and students were starting to look on due to the raucous scene that was unfolding. "Please, you have to believe me! He told me he wanted to come out here to talk, and, and, and..." he stammered, his breathing getting out of control. He looked wildly at Emery, then punched the wall, a section of the bricks falling away like concrete snowflakes, and stormed off, his dad hot on his heels.

"Wait, Kruto!" yelled Emery, rising to his knees and holding out his arm feebly.

Kruto turned back to look at him, his face painted with disgust and distain. "I don't know you anymore!" he roared, his powerful voice impaling Emery like a white-hot javelin. The parrot fell to the ground, and the crowd of spectators began to disperse. The rain suddenly increased in intensity, driving cold drops spattering on Emery's broken spirit and limp body. As he watched Kruto's dad's car peel out from the parking lot, he knew in his heart he would never see him again, and his slumped form became wracked with sobbing.

---

THE PRESENT DAY

The iguana doctor whistled, slapping his hands on his knees. "No way, you mean you knew -the- 'Crusher' Kruto Fjord? The star linebacker for the Trotsplain Nauticats?" He shook his head and rested it in his hand. "I'm going to be honest with you Emery, if that story is true, that is one of the saddest things I've ever heard. I'm so sorry."

Emery wiped his eyes dry and sniffled. "I heard he'd given up on school and just went to play football like his father wanted of him. He didn't want a future for himself, he wanted money and fake friends, because I wasn't good enough for him. Now I'm nothing more than an afterthought."

"Are you sure?" asked the lizard. "The way you told it kinda makes it sound like he just wanted to be your friend, but you were still getting used to your feelings so you kinda...bunked it, you know."

Emery growled and slammed his fist on top of the console. "Shut your mouth! You don't know me like he did! The reason I even told you that horrible story is because I wanted you to know why I find this...this -cur- expendable!" He waved his arm towards Djembo, the dog completely unaware of anything going on. He was going into his 40th minute of waiting now, and looked quite bored. "All of these stupid athlete types, building themselves up just to get people to pay attention to them, to fill some silly void, and then when someone finally notices, that's never good enough for them. They need constant validation, and sew constant sorrow!" He picked up the scalpel and threw it at the wall, the metal rod buzzing as it stuck fast in the plaster and wobbled back and forth. "They're already dead inside. Their body is just waiting to catch up."

The iguana started to slink down in his chair, looking quite nervous. "E-Emery, calm down. That's enough. I get it. I swear though, when this is done, you will not be part of this company any longer. I will make sure the boss finds out about this."

Emery held up his hand, chirping, "No, you will not, or I will make sure he finds out about our little agreement. If I go down, so help me I will grip your ankles and drag you as well."

The doctor realized there was nothing he could do, and silently stewed in his anger. "Why do you even work for this company then? Why work somewhere where you are trying to help those that you hate so much?"

Emery grabbed his forehead and threw his head back, laughing madly. "-HELP- them? Is that what you think I'm doing? Is that what you think -we're- doing? We sell nothing but dreams and empty promises. Put some herbs in a capsule, give it to a jock who can't add that next inch to his biceps. He'll shell out as much money as he can to make sure that he's the biggest one on his block, then more money to make sure he's the biggest in his town, et cetera et cetera. He needs other people's help to get other people to like him, because he is truly a broken wimp of a child. I take care of the bullies myself now, by taking their money and doping them up. We're all snakeoil salesmen, holding people's hands through their deluded fantasies." The bird leaned back on the computer, fixing his headfeathers back into position. "That all changes today. Today is the culmination of years of work, years of making desire real." He squeezed his fist together so tightly his talons were cutting into his palm, and thrust his fist upwards victoriously. "Every single sports team in the country is going to want this revolutionary new technology. Kruto will realize that I don't need him anymore, just like he didn't need me. He will hear my name, and he will know me again."

Almost as if to respond, the console opened a window with many different moving lines and tiny camera feeds. "Applicators bio-charged to full capacity," it droned in a female robotic voice. "Executing repair protocol."