I happened to be reading the comic Furry!, and I had leaned back to rest my eyes. Man, a weird light show, all sorts of wild and wooly characters showing up. Huh, like that could happen in my life.
My name is John-David Wesley Philip MacColl Vickers Dornebal Kraaikamp, by the way. Well, of COURSE you're out of breath; when you speak it, you're supposed to take a breath between "Philip" and "MacColl". When I type it out, I usually take a coffee break right there.
Anyways, my mind wandered, and took the story with it. Back on track, before I lose my train of thought.
No comment from the peanut gallery, please.
But I could imagine what it would be like having some sort of weird lightshow, and all sorts of dezinens come leaping out of the furry universe on the Internet.
And, just as I had imagined it, that's exactly what happened. Big lightshow, wild sound effects, something right out of a B movie, or a really bad story.
I thought it was lightning, but it didn't look like it. I've seen a lot of lightning, and what had just happened didn't look like it. Okay, so I keep hoping my life's gonna be like a comic strip! It's better than boring!
Okay, so here I was in cyberspace, wandering around the Belfry (lot of batty characters there, let me tell you,) and I decided to drop into Furry.
It's a nice comic strip, and - NO, it's not a comedic... GAH! Get your mind out out of the gutter! Geeze, say the word "strip," and... BAH!
Anyways, so here I am at Furry!, and I decided to drop into the forums. It was quite a soggy landing, and I realized that someone's apology had set off quite a few others. Anyways, the tears were flowing, and I managed to land right in a river of them. Okay, call me wet behind the ears, but these things happen.
When I felt the surge, I thought some idiot hacker out in IRLand was trying to screw up the Forums. But no. As if anything so normal should happen to me.
The next thing I knew, I discovered myself in strange surroundings, much like the surroundings that nutcase whose bizarre daydreams come to life through me. I sniffed, and I couldn't smell any furs around. I could smell SOMEBODY who had a major case of body odor, though. And the scent was distinctly human. I had to check this out. I went up to the trailer, where it seemed this guy lived, and I knocked on the door.
Suddenly, this amazingly hairy human opened it. I couldn't believe my eyes. This HAD to be JD himself, it was too ugly to be anyone else!
Talk about a shock. Here I was expecting some salesman, or maybe some long-lost buddy of mine, but... an anthropomorphic lynx was NOT on my list of expectations.
I looked him up and down, and asked him, "who the hell are YOU?"
He stared at me as if I were the dumbest thing on earth. "JD, you should recognize me!" he said. "I mean, you're not a /perfect/ imbecile. Nobody's perfect."
No. Please. No. Don't tell me my nightmare had come true. You see, I had made Mr. Initial Man to be as much like me as possible. He WAS me, even down to the smart mouth.
And I was about to get the joy of my own company. One of me's bad enough, thank you very much.
Well, seeing that JD DID indeed recognize me, I asked if I could come in. He stood aside, and I entered the dump of a house.
Okay, he's had me on some crappy little website that is begging to be updated before Angelfire shuts it down on him for God knows how long, so I wasn't surprised to see his room was a disaster. I mean, I know he's human and all, but even HIS nose should have been shrieking at him to do the laundry!
Ah, well. He calls me the Wrasslin' Lynx for a reason (he's also into Backyard Wrestling, loads of fun), so I decided to straighten him out. So, we had a wonderful match right there in the living room. One advantage to being a fantasy, JD tried to make up his shortcomings in me, so I was actually somewhat superior in some ways.
Needless to say, he got his butt kicked.
I knew it was a mistake to bring the name Mr. Initial Man into the ring. After all, it WAS my furry persona, and so he'd picked up all my tricks. And he was able to execute them better than I could!
Talk about ouch.
So, finally, he had me moaning and groaning on the rug, and I asked him what the hell that was all about.
"DO YOUR STINKIN' LAUNDRY!" was all he said.
"Geeze, don't read the bloody riot act on me," I muttered.
To say that living with my creator was trying would be an understatement. Actually, to say "living with my creator was trying would be an understatement" is, in its own right, an understatement.
I am unique in my ways, my quirks, and here was an idiot who shared them all. Ever tried to outsleep someone, so he would get up first, and discover that HE had the same idea? We wasted a whole bloody day, then we both got too hungry to bother anymore.
I mentioned this to JD, and he chuckled. "Usually, I'm not too bad about sleep," he said.
"Oh really?" I said, raising my eyebrow. "I seem to remember standing around, looking like a total idiot, doing nothing, because YOU fell asleep on the keyboard."
He mumbled something to himself. Because he seemed to forget that lynces have better hearing than humans, I heard him anyways.
I beat him up for it.
Well, I was definately getting more action in this house than I ever had earlier.
I dropped into my bedroom, so I could do some typing, and I discovered my keyboard had shorted out.
MiM couldn't understand it. He hadn't abused it, he said, but I started plucking wads of fur off his back. "You're shedding, you idiot," I growled. "Cat fur does that to keyboards."
Damn, it cost me a bundle to get that fixed.
Meanwhile, Mr. Initial Man had started in on the piano. I told him, if he broke any strings on that thing, he could pay for them. MiM looked at me. "Like you haven't," he grumbled.
"Hey, that was a mistake!" I said. "How was I supposed to know that they'd break under anything heavier than..."
"A 10-pound sledge hammer? I've heard you play." I decided not to answer that.
I was getting hungry, and started looking around for something to eat. JD said something about cooking up some chicken for the two of us.
Well, since I wasn't in cyberspace, where we're force-fed a steady diet of spam, I said, "Sure, it would be nice to have something different for a change."
Would you believe that idiot cooks his chicken in the MICROWAVE? I KNOW how chicken is supposed to be cooked, and it ain't the way he did it!
Now I know where the term "nuke puke" comes from. I asked him, "How did you survive at college?"
JD shrugged. "This was my daily menu," he said. "Nuke puke, slop, and irradiated glop."
I believed him.
This lynx was getting on my nerves. I mean, we were fighting over the chair, fighting over the piano, fighting over which horns we wanted to play...
Did you know furrys can't play a brass instrument very well? The fur on their lips gives them trouble.
But what drove me even crazier was this guy had a big attittude, he was ALWAYS sleeping, always on the computer, or always eating.
In short, he was just like me! I know, I'm to blame, I was the one who made him that way.
But, still, the world's only big enough for one of me!
(With a gut like JD has, even one of him's too much for the world -Jack)
(Shut up, you walking hairball! -John)
(Who's a hairball? You're the one who steps on his ponytail all the time! -Jack)
(My ponytail isn't that long! -John)
(It's longer than my tail! - Jack)
(Yeah, well Jeremy's ponytail is longer than your tail, and he shaves his head! -John)
Excuse us, while I sort my creator out.