Any perceived similarities to any 52 year-old churches, living or dead, aren’t, so shut the fuck up.
AND READ THE OTHER TWO SNIVELY ADVENTURES FIRST, YOU MOTHERS.

The screen turns black, two blue buzz saws cross from opposite directions, and the show begins.

FBI Headquarters, Washington D.C., USA, Planet Earth, 5023576 Dimension
4:32 PM

“Hey-”

“Dear God, not again…”

“We’re going on a trip! Pack your snake bite kit.”

“Scolder, don’t even try to butter me up for this. I can already tell that it’s another one of your dumb excursions to the middle of who-knows-where.”

“Aw, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time, Mully.”

Mully turns, kicking the bottom file cabinet closed, an emotionless look on her face. Shaw must be directing again. “I am so sick of going to places where fake vampires untie our shoelaces and flukemen wait to impregnate us with genetically altered fetuses and electronic devices infect our minds with subliminal images while impossible to understand conspiracy theories about abduction, clones, microchips, alien bounty hunters and super soldiers bombard us at every opportunity, and all for what, Scolder? We never accomplish anything and our only links to the man behind the curtain speak overly cryptic phrases in order to lead us down the wrong path. It’s an uphill battle! Why can’t things just go back to the way they were, at the beginning?”

Scolder smiles warmly, the dreamboat, handing Mully her plane ticket. “Because, Mully, the way things were at the beginning is a time that I’d sooner want to forget.”

“No worse than what we have now.”

“On the contrary, the mystery at NASA was still worse than your literal conversation with God and the time the four Doppelgangers converged at the wrestling match and caused everybody to start fighting for no reason.”

“Better than having a bankrupt mythology, your resurrection from the dead too strange to make sense even in context.”

“What about fire? I have never, ever been afraid of fire. Not since I claimed to be once and then never again. Because of that, every time I see fire I can’t help but think ‘Why am I not freaking out?’ It ruins the mood. The mood, Mully.”

“I’m not going, Scolder.” Mully tries to hand him back the ticket.

He ain’t havin it, however. “Come on, you know we can’t carry one adventure alone, if that trip to waterfront Maine was any indication. We have to be together or else it doesn’t work, and we may as well… I don’t know… do whatever it is that we do when we don’t do stuff.”

“You throw pencils into the ceiling while I contend with my faith.” Mully sighs deeply, pocketing the ticket and already feeling the extreme discomfort rack her body. “Okay, fine, I’ll come, but promise me we aren’t heading into another religious theme. Because those are never interesting. Ever. And you know I include Voodoo and Satanism in this statement.”

“Teleporting metal inside of someone is still badass, I say.” Scolder’s eyes are skirting, avoiding explaining the situation while they are still in DC, when Mully has time to avoid this all. “And no, none of that. Idol and gem worship background, some industrial stuff. Like The Matrix meets The Secret of NIMH meets quantum physics. Why don’t we just get going? I’ll explain on the way.”

“Should we call Reyes and the T-1000 on this one?”

“Fuck no,” Scolder calls from the hallway.

“… What the hell is The Secret of NIMH?”

**********

Robotnik has returned from outer space. Starting tomorrow I am facing my first vacation of the year, and all dreadful connotations carried with it. Twenty-four hours of unbearable hell, where forces of the universe posse up to gang-stab me and then laugh.

With a total of three days off every year, work days have become a bit of a commodity. It is a balancing act to keep the results top-notch but not too pleasing, else I risk being rewarded with more days off. And fuck to that.

Robotnik is cursing all kinds of incomprehensible expletives as I enter Control. Our surveillance monitors and house lights are deactivated, the entire expansive room lit by only three sources at the helm. Robotnik is leaning close to the view screen, slamming a small controller into it.

“Frackin frackin feldercarb, I hate you I hate you.” Robotnik growls to the screen, then rotates clockwise in the helm chair, seeing me holding the reports. “Don’t read me anything, Snively, I gave you the day off,” he says through a curtain of teeth. “Additionally, happy Halloween.”

“Appreciate it, but that’s all tomorrow, sir.” My eyes have to adjust to the unnatural lighting before I can read from the reports. There’s a glow coming from his desk, contradicting the shadows.

“Tomorrow. Halloween.” He sidesteps the mistake and motors through a library of excuses. “Time does fly when you’re working hard, if you know what I mean.”

I’m not at all sure what he means. “Right… uh, sir, what are you-”

He suddenly slides his chair back towards his desk, knocking papers out of my hand. “I set a goal to have this done by tonight.” He motions to the laptop monitor. “I hit a block some hours ago and have been unable to work past it. Perhaps you could give me some ideas with your lack of a proper perspective.”

Fantastic, something work-related for once. Sweeping the fallen papers back up, I speed-read the first few… “Oh…. Oh no, no no no no-” and they fall out of my arms once more, a headache secreting in my skull. “Fanfiction?!”

“After a fashion,” he says, nodding proudly.

“That’s… so fucking stupid. You’re not really doing this.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Don’t you always tell me that fanfiction writers are scum and will never make anything of their pathetic lives because they can’t focus on anything outside of characters that someone else has made up? Huh? Don’t you?!”

He shrugs. “Eh.”

“… I see.”

“You really should get into it, Snively. It isn’t as bad as I previously assumed. Great for stirring up the old head meat. And I am quite popular, you know. I could get you in, if you catch my drift.”

Full extent of this horror comes to light, and I can feel my stomach turning over.

“What’s wrong? No increase in blood flow?”

“You’re writing pornography, sir!”

“And how. Trust me, it isn’t all fun and zane-filled. I tried to relax by playing videogames, to see if I could get some new ideas for these characters.” He points at the television, where an early emulation of the fast rodent’s game is on pause. “But I can’t get into the old ones. They make me look like a fat schmuck. I mean, who makes a laser that destroys itself with every blast?”

“I’m guessing the same sort who challenges his enemy to a speed contest, and then follows through with it rather than immediately putting a bullet in his brain when he shows up in a red cloak.”

“Fuck you, Snively.”

I’m still naïve enough to be surprised by his actions. I await the day I no longer care how stupid he is. “I can’t make up any justifiable reason why you would be doing this.“

“I tire of indirectly manipulating mating rituals, that’s why. You know I had to make someone into a Maynard James Keenan look-alike the other day? Cut off his legs at the shins.” Robotnik appears totally unconcerned. “I think I killed him.”

“Well that narrows it down.”

“I narrowed him down, that’s for sure.”

“Sir, the fact that the characters in this-this thing you’ve written, the fact that they exist in real life makes it far more pathetic than normal fanfiction. And, let’s not forget, they are our enemies. It can’t be beneficial to think of them this way. You might get… attached. Playing their videogames can’t be healthy either; you could be directly funding their rebellion.”

Robotnik sighs deeply, glaring at me like I’m the one who is being typically moronic. “I do hate you Snively. You know this, correct? Have I adequately treated you like I am being honest with my feelings? Because the last thing I want to do is mislead you into thinking that I enjoy having you around. I don’t. I really, really don’t. Every day with you is a curse, a back-aching, skin-diseasing curse. I want you dead. I want you dead so hard.”

I shouldn’t encourage him, but there’s no other way to escape this topic. “Your story is very arousing, sir.”

“Why thank you, Snively.”

“Could you turn off your lava lamp so I could regain my sense of sight?” That danger-light on his desk, the fucking glowing crystal, is throwing jagged blueness into my optical nerves.

“Lava lamp?! You’re joking. I picked this up in orbit yesterday on one of my inspiration-gathering space walks. I brought it back here to glow under the light of my madness.” He touches it lovingly with his metal hand. “It’s pretty.”

The thing looks dangerous as a nuclear missile. “Why is it pulsing?”

“Who cares, it started doing that when I put it on my desk. Don’t know why. Mobius is full of stupid things, you know.”

“I know, I know-”

“Like magic computer crystals. Remember that?”

It is dangerously reminiscent of that. “I like to forget it ever happened.”

“Aw, come on! It had some good lines of dialogue. And all that work was for a lightbulb! Ha!”

My eyes pinch shut. “This is too much bullshit happening at once and all of it strikes as way beyond unhealthy. It has to be. Videogames, pointlessly glowing crystals, characters all… naked and hot and bothered. I’ve always wondered what it is you do in space. Turns out you aimlessly float about, picking up strange gems and fantasizing about grossness.” I drop the clipboard onto his desk. “Can I go? Please?”

Robotnik doesn’t even glance at the reports. “But… what about my lemon?”

“There’s a lemon involved now?”

“The story, Captain Lame. We call writing of this erotic caliber lemons because fruit is sexy.” His finger repeatedly slams into my chest. “Biz talk, get on it. Anyway, Rouge and Shadow are gettin it over with on the roof of the Station Square tower, in the Chao garden, and I’m looking for a quick clothes removal method, and teeth is so overdone-”

“Who? Shadow?”

“Oh. My. God. From the post-Genesis videogames. How can you be my nephew? I am fairly certain I don’t have Loser in my genes.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this. Where in the hell are you learning all of this garbage?”

“I’m reading stuff from my fanfiction buddies!”

“Figures.”

“No, it doesn’t figure, you’re grossly mistaken. Gross and mistaken. After all, woe is the writer who produces more than he reads.”

“Paraphrased from Quills?” I haven’t noticed it until now, but his room is in fact lined with the crap, tons of fanfiction printed out and lining the walls. “Well, you’re stealing from at least one talented source. And wasting trees.”

“Am I ever.” Robotnik grabs the nearest page, well-worn with stains jumping out in the light. “Here’s my favorite: ‘Those soft lips… And Antoine gulped and then suddenly, in a violent motion, pressed his mouth to Snively’s, driving his tongue inward-’

“Enough!” I am quite familiar with that one. It causes my twitching to reemerge.

“This sort of thing should be right up your alley, if you know-”

“GROSS!”

“Oh lighten up. Do you even like girls? I know they blame their emotions on chemicals, and you hate chemicals, but do you think you could get past that?”

“Chemicals? Really, sir? Just stop. Stop reading, stop talking, stop doing everything while I’m in the same room with you.” Uh oh, that look on his face usually means he’s about to decide that I’m the one who needs a break from working so hard. “All right, look, you really want my advice? Either stop writing entirely-”

“Right, next,” he snorts, spinning around in his chair.

“Or at least stop writing about these stupid other characters. At least try combining some genres, get some plot up in this mother. At this point it’s just a bunch of fucking. Writing about sex is begging for attention, some poor misguided idiot somewhere is sure to like it.”

“Noooo, I don’t do that. You liked it though, right?”

Maybe it’s close contact with other humans that reignites the twitching. “Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhow about Shadow spins in place? That would cut those pesky clothes right up the middle. It’s what I want to do to you right now, sir, the cutting part. The part where I cut you and you bleed-”

“Yes yes you hate me, I get it.” He types two words onto his word processor and closes it. “I’ll use that suggestion or whatever you said to do until I think of something better. You’re not getting cowriter credit, though. One more thing before your rewardings: I want you to go into the Great Forest, to see if you can find any more of these gem things.” He touches it lovingly again.

“Like what, if they fell from space?”

“Exactly, like if they fell from space. Find more and bring them back here. I want my desk looking like a disco ball. Wouldn’t that be neat?”

“I am shivering with delight just imagining it, sir.”

“You bet your ass. Now leave, your presence fails to be of any further use to me.” He picks up the controller and resumes playing videogames. “Enjoy the vacation, don’t fucking bother me, use a HoverUnit, it’s faster.”

No need to tell me twice. Mumbling fool didn’t even read the reports but I don’t think he’d do it if it didn’t have Sega characters in it. “Yes, sir.” Idiot. IDIOT.

**********

Chao Garden, Station Square, Continent Everywhere, Planet Earth, 5033549 Dimension
5:59 PM

“Ohhhh Shadow,” Rouge moans from an open mouth, arching her back and pushing her breasts into the dark hedgehog’s manly, toned chest. “Careful,” she breathes into his ear. “No marks. Knuckles can’t know.”

Strange thing for a bat to say, ownership of fangs and all. Shadow remains fixed on Rouge’s neck, running his warm tongue over her soft skin. A PoliceUnit flies far overheat, gently whipping up leaves and flower pedals. Around them, the Chao garden sleeps, basking in the evening sun.

His hands worked slow, odd for a hedgehog, catching an erect nipple between two fingers in one hand and rubbing soft flesh between her legs with the other. Rogue’s mouth opens wider.

The words pass, converted meaningless under the stubborn will of an erection yearning to break free of khakis pants. Shadow was running through ways to get her clothes off, get her naked and fuck her until she didn‘t have any brains left. He would have to release her to rip the top of her spy suit off, a notion he did not care much for. He pulled his lips from her neck, the idea finally occurring to him.

Buzz saw.

**********

Ouch. “Swatty, where are we?”

Swatty, my constantly malfunctioning HoverUnit chauffeur, tips his visor in my direction, not paying attention to the flying. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT SHAPE ECHO BASE IS GOING TO BE IN.”

“… Right.” I wonder where his processor is drawing up these responses. Probably from Robotnik’s extensive library of fanshittion. “Fly slower. Keep your sensors fixed for anything blue and stupid looking that isn’t Hedgehog, Priority One.”

“HEDGEHOG, PRIORITY-”

“Yes, him. Uncle wants blue light as further proof of his low intelligence. Posterity and all that. Copy?”

“WE’RE IN THE CAR BECAUSE I NEED A HAIRCUT.”

“I am filled to the brim with confidence in your abilities.” This is why I normally walk, but orders are orders. Swatty isn’t so bad; at least it isn’t using outdated military jargon or making bad racial jokes. Anything to stave off the vacation. In fact, this could be it, me spending the entire two weeks searching for Maguffins. “Swatty, you wouldn’t have any aspirin in those useless compartments, would you?”

“NOTHING IS TRUE, EVERYTHING IS PERMITTED.”

Should I take that as a no? Between the residuals from direct contact with Robotnik and dreading the upcoming hours, it looks as though at least half of that will be spent nursing throbbing headpain. Time will stretch and stretch. “Turn about. I need to visit our medic before-” … Whoa. “Swatty, what is your course?”

The SWATbot turns from the patch of green enveloping the view screen. He is pushing the accelerator down. The horizon disappears. “WHILE YOU DO THAT, I’M GOING TO PAY A CALL ON DOMINICK DEGREASY.”

Our HoverUnit starts to oscillate. Warning lights haven’t starting going off, but that doesn’t indicate an absence of peril, not with this magnet for bad luck permanently attached to my back. “Fucking goddamn.” Ignoring the ground growing bigger and more detailed at the view screen, I run over to the escape hatch, where the InstaBall pack hangs. Strapping it to my chest, the alarms finally begin to claxon. “Is it useless asking you to try and pull up?”

“FORGET IT, CALVIN. I’M NOT PLAYING WITH YOU ANY MORE,” are the last words I hear before the HoverUnit goes into a spin and the noise of imminent doom overwhelms the senses, as it tends to do. Before gravity tosses me about the interior, I slam my knee into the emergency door switch.

Cold air sucks me clear. I don’t fall for a second before the HoverUnit collides with the forest canopy and explodes like a firecracker. Swatty flies out of the viewscreen, screaming something about his word being his bond, always.

With the unit destroyed, there might be a slight malfunction with the sensors in the InstaBall, leaving little chance of calculating the correct altitude. “Shit,” I have time to mutter before I-

IMPACT

-bounce off the grass once. my arms lock around me, sensation fading outrunning the pain of a headache powerful enough to cover the entire body

and my year was going so well…

**********

Knothole Village, Great Forest, Mobius, Planet Mobius, 5174441 Dimension
6:11 PM

-Princess Sally Acorn of the House of Acorn, daughter to King Maximillian Acorn of Mobius, watches Sonic the Hedgehog, also of Mobian descent, run across the Knothole square from her window. The hedgehog breaks his speed to stretch his calf muscles on his patio steps, leaning far forward. Under the glint of the disappearing sun, Sally can see his lean, rippling lattisimi rising beneath his skin. She leans low on her window ledge, her back parallel to the floor, her tail rising.

Debauchery. Scandal. Perversion. On one hand, Sally was a princess, in fact, the last in a long and royal and dignified bloodline, a legend in her own time, and shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts. On the other hand, she was becoming a woman; a horny, horny woman who just wanted some dick.

Nobody could know.

She sticks two index fingers into her mouth, then slides them back along stomach to her-

Downs, Station Square, Continent Everywhere, Planet Earth, 5033549 Dimension
6:20 PM

Amy lifted her skirt higher, exposing her tail. Tails was hypnotized, following orders from a brain no longer owned by rational thought. He reached out and grabbed the base of his penis with two fingers. Amy looked over her shoulder and watched him come closer, her eyes half closed, tongue hanging loosely. Eyes which said: Sonic can’t know!

A mouth that said: “Do it, and do it hard.”

Tails wraps his free arm around her waist, arching back, almost like a running start. His tails eagerly twitching. Her soft back brushing against his chest, bringing her closer to connection, he buries his face into the back of her neck and he makes slight contact with her warm interior… and shoves all the way into her at full speed-

Knothole Plains, Mobius, Planet Mobius, Dimension 5784393
Unknown Time

Looking at it this close, it was the girth that was intimidating, and not the length. Still, he was doing his best to appreciate it before it went elsewhere.

He planted a kiss on the soft tip, then ran his tongue across the skin, all the way up to the hilt where it met with the brilliant blue of his stomach. He came back to the tip again, along the edge of the hood, and finally got a reaction. Sonic the Hedgehog’s palms gripped tight around Snively’s hair and forced him down on his manhood. Snively took most of it into his mouth, reaching around with both hands and squeezing the hedgehog’s buttocks, the penis brushing the edge of the gag reflex at the back of his tongue. Snively freed a hand from a cheek and massaged Sonic’s

NOTES FOR NEW STORY- USE TO GET PAST WRITER’S BLOCK
LazerTH & Wingless Rain walking through the woods, either chatting idly or collaborating.
THE CATCH: They are both unaware that they are in the Great Forest.
PLOT: ? (A larger whole that is slowly revealed, in time, with meshed universes; sex)

So, there they are, walking/talking, when they see a naked male figure running in the distance like Bigfoot.

LAZERTH
That’s kinda hard to miss. Haha, get it?

WINGLESS RAIN
I get it.

LAZERTH
Bet you do.

NOTE: it might be prudent to find out these authors’ real names to use them, otherwise this nomenclature can get quite tedious.

Tha Kalligrapha is the naked man, quite distressed at an incident that happened off-fic, one that he refuses to elaborate on (surely it has to do with his nakedness).
Jokes aside, he is welcomed into the crew and they all decide that something strange is going on.

LAZERTH
You think maybe a scavenger hunt is involved? By jove, I hope not. Something mystical is afoot.

WINGLESS RAIN
Let’s find your pants, Kalli, I’m tired of your shame touching my breathing air.

WARDROBE: LazerTH will be dressed in nineteenth century British detective garb, Wingless Rain will be dressed like Indiana Jones, and Kalligrapha will never have clothes throughout this story, ever.

KALLIGRAPHA
And what were you doing, hunting lost artifacts?

WINGLESS RAIN
Jealous of my clothing, I see.

TIME LAPSE: The group comes across a clearing, where the rodent Sonic the Hedgehog, “Adventures of” modality is running around like a fool and singing his theme song as loud as he is able. Kalligrapha spots him and goes into a sort of blind rage which paralyzes his movement, save for the clenching.

WINGLESS RAIN
He looks cool in a shirt, I’ll give him that.

KALLIGRAPHA
It didn’t even require cross-dressing… and he did it anyway…

LAZERTH
Is Sonic wearing your clothes?! My lord, man, get them back!

KALLIGRAPHA
Well-

LAZERTH
NO TIME FOR QUESTIONS JUST DO IT!

KALLIGRAPHA
OKAY!!!!!!

Kalli charges, cock-a-floppin and brandishing a large hammer out of nowhere. The Hedgehog ducks into a series of holes in the ground and dodges each swing of Kalli’s hammer, surfacing briefly to pinch him on the ass.
Deciding that this gambit is not working, Kalli pulls out a plunger and works one of the holes with all of his might. Sadly, he pulls out Fish the Impaler, who punches him hard enough to knock him into a nearby mountain range, breaking apart the rocks to spell out SONIC.

WINGLESS RAIN
He really hates that hedgehog.

Underground, Unknown Location, Mobius, Planet Mobius, 5078544 Dimension
6:59 PM

“Tell me how it’s done then, Knuckles,” Fiona rumbled, her eyes the raging focal points of a furious storm. “You tell me what you say to make them want you. Tell me the clincher that gets them to come home with you, because I want to feel it. I want to feel like the whores you fuck every single night.”

Knuckles grunted and struggled, trying to keep his back straight. His wrists were secured tightly by a length of chain, and he arms were pulled above his head. His ankles were tied as well, spread apart and connected to the chair legs. “Fiona, this is madness. You have to let me go.”

“Not until you say the words,” she spits through gritted teeth, removing the bra straps from her shoulders. She felt pleased knowing Knuckles would get to see this. “Say the words… or I won’t stop.”

Knuckles was blanking, on both his pick-up techniques and his escape methods. He found himself enthralled with watching her disrobe, and wasn’t sure if he wanted her to stop. “Please-” Her breasts interested him greatly, in spite of danger he knew he was in. “We’re friends…” Fiona had torture instruments waiting, just out of his line of sight, and yet he couldn’t get focused. Before he knew it, he felt his cock harden and grow, filled to the brim and operating at full, uncomfortable capacity. He couldn’t remember the last time it was this much, this bad. “Release me,” he weakly mutters.

“Ha! Pathetic.” She slinks towards him, her pants sliding down from her hips with every step. “Already? Such low will power…” It takes all of her not to look directly at his sperm tunnel. “I hope this isn’t indicative of your stamina.” The corner of her eye-line guides her hand on target; she grips the head of his cock, part-pleased at hearing him gasp, but also enormously impressed with how it fills her grip. Fiona feels her crotch getting warm. “Let’s see for ourselves, shall we?”

Knuckles gets one second of clarity, adrenaline allowing him to try for freedom one final time before it is dead in the water. He flexes against the chains, tries to lift himself out of the chair, tries to straighten his legs and break the bonds, and it all dissipates when Fiona touches his cheek, and he sinks back into the chair, defeated.

Fiona kisses his mouth lightly, and encounters no resistance in pushing her tongue against his. Her right hand still on his dick, she gently strokes it, keeping the balance right, coaxing the length but going back on any real research into how long he can last. They have plenty of time for that, after all.

The Echidna moves his mouth to her neck, and Fiona moans and shudders as moisture increases and runs hot down her inner thighs. She keeps her hand tight on his dick, just in case he is thinking about biting her arteries out, but she doubts it.

When he moves his snaking tongue down to her left nipple, she gasps and melts into his body. She feels his throbbing skin-lever against her stomach, and she wants it in her, now, now now now NOW, but she can wait, she can resist for maybe another minute.

Her free hand moves slowly down his rock-hard chest, and the moment Knuckles’ lips part from her breast she slams her mouth into his, clamping hard onto him. She feels him convulse once and panics, thinking it’s all over. She moves her hand slowly along the length of his dick, and doesn’t feel anything wet. Good. She resumes stroking.

Knuckles, meanwhile, is entirely occupied with this. Why hadn’t they done this sooner? He was a fool. She’s this good and she’s a virgin?! By the Gods. Fiona’s hand stops touching his chest, and he opens one eye to see where it’s going. With one hand on his dick and the other below her waist, she slowly begins massaging her pussy underneath her underwear. She breaks from his lips and moans loudly, her head hitting his shoulder.

And it gets to be too much for him. Knuckles bites his bottom lip, straining against the chains, yearning to get in there and pound it, pound it hard, tear it to pieces. He slides his butt across the chair, and with one hard tug, the chains break apart.

Links falling around her, Fiona can’t react fast enough to step away. She braces for impact with Knuckles fleeing, but feel his fingers around the elastic of her panties. He rips them in half easily, and then releases her, leaning back.

Knuckles puts his hands behind the chair, tying the wrist with the underwear remnants, grinning with a bleeding lip, causing another shudder to rock her body. “Do your worst.”

Absolutely. Fiona grabs his cock once more and keeps it at the angle necessary for an easy entrance. She feels his body tense as his thick head makes contact her wet labia, and in a slow and steady push, she slides down the length of him until she feels his balls smash against the seat of the chair

WRITER’S BLOCK AGAIN FUCK FUCK FUCK

WARDROBE: Fish the Impaler is wearing a tuxedo, like he was just in a casino trying to bankrupt a villainous superpower before he came to this dismal corner of the universe.
Ever the amiable one, Fish escorts an injured Kalligrapha back to the group.

KALLIGRAPHA
… Why did Sonic pinch my ass, guys?

WINGLESS RAIN
Best not to dwell on it.

With Sonic gone, our four adventurers begin trekking for the source of their problems

FISH
Sorry about the suave punch. I didn’t think it’d send you that far. Your nose is bleeding.
And you have no clothes.

KALLIGRAPHA
… Sonic stole them.

WINGLESS RAIN
(sighing)
Could you try making it into an anecdote? For me? PLEASE?

KALLIGRAPHA
Okay okay shut up. I was lost in the woods, and I came across this tiny blue-colored old lady. I asked her for directions, it turned out to be Sonic, he spun around me in a circle until my clothes disappeared. Then he punched me, checked himself out in his stupid hand mirror, and sped off.
I tried to catch him.

WINGLESS RAIN
So, Sonic is also too fast for the naked guy.

LAZERTH
Haw.

KALLIGRAPHA
Just how does someone so vain get to be the hero?

FISH
He gets called on it sometimes. Sonic means well. Anyone can see that.

WINGLESS RAIN
Yeah? It’s a stupid fucking fandom. Anyone can see that.

TIME LAPSE: LazerTH reads his fanfiction notes to pass the time, waving the papers like he’s flagging down Kevin Costner from a raft. Wingless Rain, devoid of enthusiasm, offers helpful advice.

WINGLESS RAIN
No shameless godmoding or ridiculous character names, but Tails doesn’t help at all. And Knuckles sure assists reluctantly, always with the reluctantly.
In summary: I wouldn’t call it an arrogant disregard for logic, but you definitely don’t care.

LAZERTH
Eh, what do you know. My stories are so steeped in symbolism that they are clearly over your head.
Anyway, big action sequence next. Sonic all zooming around the place, techno blaring, doon-da-da-doon-da-da-doondoondoon, bullets wizzing by, bangbangbangbang, Tails flies in like a hero-

WINGLESS RAIN
Now it’s getting good.

LAZERTH
-all ‘I must save Sonic,’ and so forth… That’s about all I have so far.

KALLIGRAPHA
(breaking down)
Is it really that much of an existential issue, or can you two be quiet? Quiet?! QUIET!
I hear enough about fanfiction in my own spare fucking time to hear you bastards pontificate endlessly on it.
And Lazer, your story is shitty and I hate it. I hate it and I hate you with your stupid fucking penname and your criminal misuse of British lingo.

LAZERTH
Colloquialisms.

KALLIGRAPHA:
Fuck you.

LAZERTH:
War is it, Age of Aquarius? Honestly, you’re about as unbearable as Sam Speed when you get like this. You need to be less like pre-Generator era Bad Religion and more like post-Generator era Bad Religion.

KALLIGRAPHA
(grabbing LazerTH by his shirt)
You ever say something like that to me again and I’ll chew your fucking eyes out. HAHAHAHHAHAHA now I’m the one who’s joking HAHAHAHHAH!

LAZERTH
(aside)
He’s insane.

KALLIGRAPHA
And Fish, if you love Felix Leiter so much why don’t you just fucking marry him?

FISH
MAYBE I WILL!

Suddenly! The group stumbles across a large fire raging at the edge of the woods, caused by a downed HoverUnit, windshield a-broken. Yards back from the wreckage is a body lying in the reeds: Snively. They descend upon him like ravenous ‘bot vultures, convinced that he holds the key to all of their misery. How right they are. Probably. (I haven’t figured it out yet).

KALLIGRAPHA
Get his pants off.

Zoot Shoot Entrance B32, Floating Island, Mobius, Planet Mobius, 5766556 Dimension
7:13 PM

“Get his pants off,” Espio muttered excitedly as he tore at Thomas’ trouser. He was gay. He wanted sex. He wanted

GODDAMMIT I SUCK

WARDROBE: Snively will be wearing what he always does, a close-fitted uniform that never changes.

Snively is still alive, and our group discovers this just as the InstaBall, an ingenious invention designed to envelope the body to keep it from impacting with the ground, goes off and traps them all.

KALLIGRAPHA
My God, we have been swallowed by some kind of instantaneous rubber clam! Open it, quick!

WINGLESS RAIN
(keeping calm, resisting the urge to insert the knife into the third rib so Kalli won’t cry out and thus alert any other units in the area; punching him instead)
Keep your dick on.

Wingless Rain takes a knife from the hidden sleeve in his leather jacket and slams it into the InstaBall’s brilliantly designed material, right next to the zipper. One quick rip all the way down to his feet and the entire ball is open to the irritating wafting breeze of the Great Forest.
Kalligrapha gives up on ever getting pants, not considering using the InstaBall tarp as a covering.

WINGLESS RAIN
So no sense in pretending you’re not good at taking off men’s pants, not for our benefit. And Lazer, stop smiling, you look like a rapist Sherlock Holmes. Something really is-

LAZERTH
Afoot?

WINGLESS RAIN
(shuddering)
One use of that word is enough.

TIME LAPSE: They decide to bring Snively with them as a bargaining chit, in case the Freedom Rodents are responsible for this. Kalli is ordered to carry Snively, because he is the bitch of the group after all, and they break his nose repeatedly until he does.

WINGLESS RAIN
Very good. Nose is bleeding.

Kalligrapha maneuvers Snively over his shoulders. The little guy is surprisingly lightweight, and Kalligrapha finds that he can wear him quite comfortably like a backpack. That is overwhelmed, however, by the idea of being naked and having a guy on his back, screwing with his brain values.
The five humans set off in a randomly chosen direction. Fish puts forth some relatively intelligent guesses re their situation while further useless banter renders the cosmos ignorant to his solving of the mystery.

FISH
You know, if Snively’s here, then that means we’re either in the Archie comic or the SatAM series. Therefore, Sonic wouldn’t need your clothes for a disguise, or wear one in the first place.

LAZERTH
Nobody cares what you have to say, Fish.

WINGLESS RAIN
Either way, Sonic couldn’t be that hard to find, right?

FISH
Going from available evidence, Sonic and Tails sleep on hammocks in the abstract wilderness, awakened every morning by the sun which briefly turns into a comical alarm clock.

WINGLESS RAIN
What the-? Which continuity are you going off of?

FISH
I don’t know, all of that stuff makes me uneasy.

WINGLESS RAIN
… Sure are one neurotic fucker…

TIME LAPSE: At some point, Sonic appears ahead of them and they hit the grassy deck, save for Fish the Impaler who is the only one who notices that he is of the “Saturday Morning” modality.
Wingless Rain pulls out a revolver. Kalligrapha pulls out his hammer. LazerTH pulls out a large butterfly net.

FISH
(setting Snively down)
I don’t think he’s the Sonic we’re looking for.

KALLIGRAPHA
Well it ain’t Shadow! Get ready, guys, and make sure he doesn’t have his hand mirror, that shit has worked on at least two separate occasions.

FISH
This isn’t the way to handle this. We aren’t in a fucking Roadrunner cartoon.

KALLIGRAPHA
(genuinely disappointed)
We’re not?

FISH
No. Besides, Robotropolis is behind us. He might be going back to Knothole. Er, very slowly.

They watch Sonic carefully, at first not quite sure about what is off about what he is doing, and then it hits them: Sonic is stopping every few feet to masturbate.

KALLIGRAPHA
Ewwwwwww-

Everyone holsters their weapons, reluctantly.

FISH
Well… I’d consider it a blessing. We won’t need a jetpack or a hot-air balloon to give chase.

KALLIGRAPHA
-wwwww disgusting. Sperm is so gross when it gets on you.

LAZERTH
You’d know, would you?

WINGLESS RAIN
Hey, you don’t want water, don’t go to the well and jack it off.

FISH
We’re traveling into murky territory here. Is this normal?

WINGLESS RAIN
Everything on Mobius is fucking normal. Sonic sees a portal to another dimension and is all ‘Wow that’s cool okay time to juice’ or ‘jet’ or ‘jam’ and is on his merry goddamn way. A sudden emergence of disgusting sex practices is well within the boundaries of Mobius’ normal.

KALLIGRAPHA
(looking at Sonic’s ass)
I’m looking at his ass, guys. Why do I keep looking at his ass, guys? I don’t want to look at his ass, guys.

WINGLESS RAIN
Then stop looking at it! Jesus Christ, why are you acting like this? We can’t take you anywhere.

Kalligrapha lowers his eyes, in a daze, clearly quite troubled. LazerTH takes this as a sign to try and get morale up. For some reason, this means he must…

LAZERTH
(singing)
Faster faster fuckin-fuckin-faster, Sonic X!

KALLIGRAPHA
(shaking with rage)
There’s nothing more annoying than a stuttering Brit. Next time I hear it, I’ll kill myself in front of you.

LAZERTH
Oh that’s the threshold, is it?
(aside)
Not very personable chaps, are they? My plan to melt their hardened hearts with a bit of song has proved futile. I suppose I’ll-

WINGLESS RAIN
(slapping LazerTH)
Hey! What are you looking at every time you say something?

LAZERTH
The… you know, the… camera, audience, whatever you want to call it.

WINGLESS RAIN
You’re doing asides? Without telling anyone? Fuckin die.

NOTE: Here might be prime opportunity to introduce another character, some sort of sexy female to balance out the almost-literal sausage fest I have going on (delete if sucky).

Kalligrapha suddenly perks up, in more ways than one.

LAZERTH
What is it? What do your keen elf eyes see?

KALLIGRAPHA
Woman.

WINGLESS RAIN
Well go after her, cassanova.

Kalligrapha falls victim to Wingless’ urgings and makes a beeline towards the faraway figure.

WARDROBE: she is dressed head-to-toe in black, her bola eyes the only part of her that is visible.

She emits blue light as Kalligrapha makes his bid, flattering her to no end with promises of baking and caking. She rejects him, harshly, and it is much like watching a clown cry or seeing James Bond castrated. Naturally, Kalli puts it down to being naked and his confidence plummets to dangerously low levels.

The rest of the group is enthralled with this sad display. Then Fish notices that Snively’s body is gone.

FISH
Great, not again.

They search the grass for Snively’s disappeared body. Kalligrapha walks back to the group, downtrodden.

KALLIGRAPHA
The bitch just played Jenga with my heart!

And then he collides with something

ENOUGH TIME HAS BEEN INVESTED IN THIS
TAKE A BREAK THEN GET BACK TO THE IMPORTANT STORY
YOU FAT FUCKING LOSER

**********

Ow ow ow ow.

“Where’s Snively?” I can hear from my position. I crawl faster, getting away from them a bigger priority than staying still and recovering. How do I fall into situations where I’m surrounded by those idiots? My worst fears always realized. Maybe I died in the crash and went to my own personal fucking hell. Maybe I went there years ago.

A giant poison pill is dissolving over my brain, my heart relocated there and beating its way out. I keep moving, ignoring the warning signs of being permanently paralyzed below the waist, hearing those familiar voices move about the tall grass behind me, searching like raptors from the second-worst Jurassic Park film. Tidal waves of pain hit me over and over again, chipped bones along the length of my spine, no feeling in my legs, my pants slightly askew, the world turning on a dime…

And a blotch of blue up ahead of me… Sonic, sitting down in the grass, left arm a blur. Shit. My choices: ask the enemy for help or take my chances with the authors…

This one’s a no-brainer. “Psst! Hey, Sonic!”

Sonic snaps out of it, grinning wide when he sees me. He hobbles over on his knees, all weird smelling. “Needle-nose!” he says, happier than ever.

“Mammal with unrealistic abilities.” He throws his arms around me, pulling me up to his height. A repugnant stench overpowering. “Ack! Get off! You smell like warm hair and motor oil. What gives?”

He ignores the question, grinning with delight. “I so meant to write you and thank your Uncle for the DVDs. I wish Jaleel White would have done the voice during the interview, though.”

Is he speaking with a lisp? “Uh, yeah. Quick question about the cover: What the fuck is wrong with your face? Did you do something horrible to Ken Penders to warrant that vicious act of obvious revenge?”

“Eh, people seem to like it. I’m good.”

“Pfft, the cover for the weekday morning show is so much better, it’s an injustice.”

“I bet you’re depressed that you know that.”

“Yeah, a little.” Voices fade in the distance. I’m safe, for now. “Hedgehog, there are four authors who want me as a hostage. I’m not sure why, the very notion is a bit unusual.”

He looks above the grass then ducks back down, leaning uncomfortably close. “I’ll say.”

He is speaking with a lisp. “By all accounts they shouldn’t be here, and I can’t help but think there is some vast, dangerous undercurrent waiting to swallow us al- could you lean back a bit?”

Sonic pulls away inches from my face, blushing. “Sorry.”

“… What are you doing here, anyway?”

He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye-contact. “Just… hangin out, I guess.”

“In a fucking field?”

“I love nature. Nature’s awesome.”

Well at least that aspect of his attitude is still accurate. “Do me a favor: tell me about your day. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how mundane it surely was when it happened.”

A finger goes to his chin. “Uh, let’s see… I woke up, ate breakfast at the village square, ignored blue flashing lights coming from the forest, went on a morning run, entered a hover-board contest with these fuglies that kept saying things were ‘good for a laugh’ and stuff…”

“We’ll come back to that. Then what?”

“I came back home from the morning run, stretched the ol’ lats and calf muscles, and then Sal and I hung out, talked shop, brought each other slowly to climax. The usual, really.”

“… Wait wait… You fucked Sally?”

He blinks, seemingly acknowledging it for the first time. “Actually, she fucked me.” He pauses, looking a bit unsettled. “It was weird.” He begins to suck on his finger. “Annnee morhh queshconz?”

“Uh, how do you change direction in midair?”

His finger comes out of his mouth with a pop. “Physics.”

“Right. Well, I think it would be best if you avoided direct contact with anyone, like those hover-board bastards. I especially think you should avoid me until I get this all sorted out.”

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t want that thing to accidentally go off and hit anything vital,” I manage to get that sentence out with no sign of the fear I really feel, smothering the urge to put my hands in the air, palms facing outwards like I’m being robbed at dick-point.

Sonic looks down, and finally notices his erection pointing directly at me like a compass. “… Odd.”

“Yes, it’s very fucking odd, I’m going now.” I don’t turn away from him until I’m at least ten steps back, and then make a run for it. This is too weird for me, and there’s no chance in hell that I’m going to get involved in-

-IMPACT-

**********

Snively regains consciousness to find Kalligrapha on top of him, having collided with him on his run from Ms Mysterious McRejectypants. They lie there for the time it takes Wingless Rain and Fish to approach with unsolicited advice. Kalligrapha scrambles to his feet, but not quick enough for deniability.

WINGLESS RAIN
What the fuck are you doing?

KALLIGRAPHA
Not sucking his dick, if that’s even what you’re thinking.

FISH
Uh, wasn’t what we were thinking. I take it she wasn’t down for one-night love?

WINGLESS RAIN
Aw, all he wanted in this world is to massage her groin with his groin. Is that so wrong?

LAZERTH
(arriving, clapping rhythmically)
What’s the holdup, Team? We must go go go!

WINGLESS RAIN
Quiet! Or people are going to think we’re in a Justice League type group.

LAZERTH
No sign of the bird. Shame.
(putting an arm around Kalligrapha)
Kalli, don’t you dare consider turning into more of an asshole just because assholes get loads of veritable vagina. Remember, they are ruining women for when they meet someone like you. See, they’ll stick with a guy who doesn’t appreciate them and treats them like shit, oh they’ll fuck their brains out they will, but come along a guy who is genuinely in love with them, they suddenly get a conscience and are all ‘No, I don’t want to date anyone, I want my life to calm down a bit, I need to be alone, we’re just friends, I want to try being a lesbian first’ and leave you out in the goddamn cold, all because of this
(indicating Wingless Rain)
brand of cockshy motherfuck. Where’s the challenge in changing a guy who needs no changing, am I right? Am I right?

KALLIGRAPHA
(knocking his arm away)
You clearly have unresolved issues. Quit bitching. Die. Don’t misuse British lingo.
You know, you people kill me with your generalities. I’ve always hated your goddamn advice, Wingless, telling me to shove my dick in everything.

WINGLESS RAIN
You’re a 10/10 fuckup, that’s why it doesn’t work.

KALLIGRAPHA
I might as well embrace that.

LAZERTH
All are equal in the dirt.

KALLIGRAPHA
That from something, thief?

LAZERTH
Yeah, it’s from-

LazerTH punches Kalligrapha on the face. A waterfall of blood colors his chest bright red. He holds his nose like a priceless painting.

KALLIGRAPHA
Keep Northin’ me, you fuckers, see what I do!

FISH
Believe me, Kalli, we wouldn’t dream of… Northin… you. Northin?

KALLIGRAPHA
Cock-a-zoids, everyone here.

WINGLESS RAIN
(noticing Snively in awake mode)
Oh! Sup, Snively. Glad you’re alive, as always. No good to us dead, after all.

SNIVELY
… Ominous.

FISH
Really, come on guys, think: two different Sonics, Snively here… Barriers have clearly collapsed and we are stuck inexorably in the middle. We have to get out of here before irreversible damage occurs.
Remember how that disguised Sonic looked, Kalli, and compare it to the weekday morning show.

KALLIGRAPHA
I never looked at the animation, and I like it more because of that.

FISH
Sad.

KALLIGRAPHA
Though the show is genuinely funny sometimes. ‘I’m weight-lesssssss.’ Remember that? Teaches kids about… gravity and whatnot…

LAZERTH
It would be funnier if the characterizations of minor players weren’t so fucking annoying. Now Ducktales, that had some fucking voice acting. You watch Ducktales? That show was the tits.

FISH
It still makes me uneasy. I can’t help but think it’s all a metaphor for dating. Forbidden love, at least. And did anybody else think it was creepy when Sonic said ‘You’re important to me’?

WINGLESS RAIN
Your intellect ruins so much. It’s a metaphor for pest removal is what.

KALLIGRAPHA
This is why anime gets to be on the IMDB top 250.

WINGLESS RAIN
Exploits about a fast, radioactive hedgehog is how Japan gets back at the universe. Sonic X sucks and try telling a woman you’re into anime, see if you get laid.

KALLIGRAPHA
Who knows, she might be into anime as well.

WINGLESS RAIN
If she’s ugly like you. Ugly.

NOTE: you know, this has gotten extremely old. I believe I have discovered where this story falls apart: the introduction of the four authors. Who is going to want to read about these morons?
Hows about: the authors continue to argue, Snively is about to make another run for it when the mysterious woman pops up with a piton blaster and shoots all the authors in the head. Snively passes out in fear. She carries him to a safer spot and “heals his wounds” (if you know what I mean) and leaves.
NOTE: think of ways to implement more Hedgehogs to murder, maybe at Scratch and Grounder’s hands; they deserve the win.

NOW ITS TIME FOR A SAMMICH
THEN SERIOUSLY WORK ON THE STORY YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO

**********

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

The pain fades immediately as I sit up. Damage sustained to legs and spine are mysteriously absent, and my headache is taking a backseat. There’s a small pressure on my crotch, which can only mean one thing.

“Why the fuck am I aroused?” Vague memories surface: four heads hanging over me like empty balloons, waves of nausea quickly coming and rudely going, headpain. LazerTH, author of that awful Sword saga, still wearing a stupid monocle even though he can see just fine. Tha Kalligrapha: Naked Edition, a giant fistprint on his cheek and a swollen nose. Fish the Impaler dressed smartly in a tuxedo which I seriously considered stealing and cleaning his blood off of.

I appear to be deep in the forest, no sign of the clearing, and no immediate danger but there is a repetitive wet sound and eyes watching me from behind a bush. Hey!

“Sonic, are you watching me and jacking off?!”

He slowly stands up, hands out of sight. “Yes?”

“… You didn’t do anything to me while I was out, did you?”

“No! I would never do that! Especially after it was done to me.”

Huh? “Who would do that?”

“Don’t know, never met him before. Australian accent. Beret. Skunk.”

“Geoffrey St. John?! Why the fuck is he here too?!” Oh hell, the mental images this creates. “I told you to stay away from people!”

“I tried! I’m addicted to this whatever-it’s-called. Sex. I don’t know what I did for fun before I discovered this.” He points to his dick.

“Just… put it away, wherever it used to hide. Too many of those today… unsettling weirdness…”

He steps out from behind the bush, more weird smelling than ever. “Hey, shh, shhh, you just need to relax, dude.”

Sonic puts his hands on my shoulders and digs deep into the muscles. “For the love of Mobian God or whatever we have, stop touching me.” I try to wiggle free but he clamps down tight and digs deeper, and it actually begins… “That does feel good… Mmm… where did you learn this?”

“Knothole School for Massaging,” he whispers close to my ear. “I learned from the best.”

“Ha-ha ha-haaaaaa!”

I snap out of the stupor, the headache returning with a vengeance as I recognize the laughter. “Oh good, more poorly-paced comedy.” Confirming the worst, Scratch and Grounder appear from behind the trees. “Seriously, let go of me, Sonic, I think we’re in trouble.”

His hands don’t budge. “I don’t care who knows ‘bout us, baby.”

Scratch perks up and gets into battle-ready stance. “Sonic! We’ve been lookin for you!”

“Duh, I dunno, Scratch,” Grounder rubs his head with his drill. “He don’t look much like Sonic.”

No one is this irrational on accident. I am at the mercy of complete imbeciles. “You incredibly stupid fuckers are in the wrong fucking dimension and you know it. However, I can’t think of any dimension you would be perfectly indigenous to. For instance, you started out as bounty hunters? Really?”

Scratch turns bright red and steam bursts out of his ears. “I have questions of my own, jerkoid. For starters, my replacement in this universe is a smaller bird with no lines? Where did my personality go?”

“I think a lot of it went into me, sadly.”

“Sadly, he says.” Scratch cackles maniacally, again and again. “Remember which show lasted longer.”

“Oh pardon me, Edgar Eagle, you ever think that maybe there wasn’t enough personality to transfer fucking shows?”

“I had personality!”

Sonic pulls me against him and wraps his arms around my neck. “Yeah, actually, I agree, Snively. Scratch was like the best part of that show.”

“Well I stand corrected if the hedgehog says it!” I pull forward and get his hands off of me, finally.

Sonic rubs himself, pouting. “You’re such a dick.”

“Hey, he does kinda act like you, Scratch.”

“Shaddap. Enough talk, let’s waste the couple.”

Sonic points in the distance. “We’re over there!”

Scratch and Grounder take one step towards us when two gunshots ring out and the ‘bots suddenly explode, showering us with pieces of them. An eyeball here, a gear there, mostly debris that is trying to be comical.

Sonic jumps into my arms. I promptly drop him. Might as well salvage my dignity while the sniper readjusts his aim “‘We’re over there’? I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“It worked for him, didn’t it?”

“You’ll never be Bugs Bunny, no matter how hard you try.”

Sonic frowns, extremely offended. “Hey, the writing got better as it went along!”

“Whatever. I despise cartoon logic. Magnifying glasses turning into eyes, characters levitating in humorous fashions, Robotnik’s mouth being all detailed, makes me want to puke.”

“Scratch throwing his head at Grounder and causing a reintegration of proper head pieces is still badass, I say,” another voice comes from the woods, then two humans pop out, guns drawn. “Freeze!”

“Hey,” Sonic says, shocked, on his feet, dust sticking to his skin. “Aren’t they-?”

“No no no, it isn’t them.” I shamefully shake my head.

“You sure?”

“Much, much worse.”

“Agents Scolder and Mully, FBI!” Scolder screams, brandishing a badge.

I for one have had just about my fill of this lazy introduction of new characters. “You know that you two were part of the worst comic crossover of all time, right? And that is not even an exaggeration. I can’t think of a worse tribute to Chris Carter. Maybe using your own shit to draw a DVD cover for Harsh Realm.”

“At least we were in character, Kintoboy.”

I have reached a state of indifference above the ceiling of indifference I could possibly feel. Sonic has even thrown his arms around me again and I can’t be assed to care. “You know, I’ve hated both of you ever since Robotnik read me a story where you solved a mystery about a killer who was preaching.”

“What a coincidence, that’s what we’re doing now.” Scolder holsters his weapon. “Except I think that he’s punishing. Like that superhero. Daredevil.”

“Heheh,” Sonic chuckles. “It’s funny cause he’s confused. Let’s all be friends.” He releases me and moves forward to give them both a hug, moving his hips left to right.

These two FBI-tards, they could be useful, in spite of appearances and actual IQ levels. “On the way here, did you two happen to come across a village?”

Mully points where they came from. “We went around it. It looked like a sacrifice ritual was going on. Some females in danger. Loud screams and moans.”

Sounds absolutely classy. “Take us there.”

**********

CAN’T GET AWAY FROM THIS

TIME LAPSE/SUMMARY: Snively has been rescued by agents Wolf Scolder and Lana Mully, FBI, and he and the Hedgehog of this dimension are being escorted to the village of Knothole. They come across it rather quickly, and when they do, the horror is quite palpable…
What goes on before them is a veritable orgy of sex, a sex orgy of all Sonic characters in all universes. Cream, of age more or less, rammed in every orifice by the Chaotix. A four-way between Sonic of the weekday morning universe (still wearing most of Kalligrapha’s clothes), Geoffrey St. John of Archie Comics, Sally Acorn of our universe, and Seven of Nine from the Voyager universe. Sonic from the second videogame and Sonic from Spinball. Shadow and Rouge from Sonic Adventure 2 forcing Knuckles from the anime onto his back and riding him. Sonic from the Secret Rings, awkwardly moving left to right and jumping in vain, unable to do anything but “self-medicate,” if you know what I mean. Rush and Bean and Croctobot having lots of sex, presumably.
A giant mess, everywhere. Near unbearable heat. Discomfort no one would ever directly address.

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, OUR UNIVERSE
(dreamily)
This… is… rad.

Sonic is pulled into the crowd of bodies, feeling right at home. Scolder, Mully, and Snively reel as the crowd notices them and attempts to bring them into the sexy fold. Scolder and Mully back away and fire lots of bullets but their weapons are useless.
Snively abandons all hope and hightails it into a nearby hut, slamming the door.

INSIDE THE NEARBY HUT: a sinister figure awaits. It’s the mysterious female, still dressed in her eye-revealing outfit. She glows blue lights like the aurora borealis from the Idiot Dimension, throwing down her sniper rifle.

?
I’ve been waiting for you, Snively.

SNIVELY
Uh…

?
You like the empire I have created?
No more worrying about the afterward feelings of sex.
You can fuck whoever you want, and no one will think less of you.
And no chemicals involved.

SNIVELY
Diabolical! Just who the hell are you?!

The mystery woman disrobes, brown fur jumping out in the dark, metal shining blue from the light she creates, southernish accent now apparent. Bunnie Rabbot brushes tophair out of her eyes.
NOTE: consider changing character to A. Fleury for her birthday.

BUNNIE RABBOT
(apply accent later)
Surprised? You think all of our roles in Fleury’s fics were a coincidence? I influenced it so you would finally notice me.
I would do anything for you.

Bunnie approaches, pulling her shoulders back and pressing her chest against Snively, her nipples poking him through his shirt. Snively begins to sweat profusely, hoping it will deter her. Against his better judgment, his blood flow increases elsewhere. She feels it.

BUNNIE RABBOT
Is that for me? You want me to take care of that, sugar?

Snively nods, weak. She slides down him like a fire pole, hands lightly touching his belt. With the swiftness of a ninja, she yanks it out of the loops. His pants stay firmly in place.

BUNNIE RABBOT
Suspenders?

SNIVELY
(sheepish)
My pants kept coming off. I spit in the face of the law of gravity.

BUNNIE RABBOT
There’s the spirit, sugar.

Bunnie untucks Snively’s shirt, reaching up under there and feeling his smooth stomach. Snively leans back and closes his eyes, ready to succumb to her warmth and her cold steel, do whatever she wants him to. She grips both suspenders, loud noises coming from outside

FUCK BATHROOM BREAK THEY ALWAYS COME WHEN I’M ON A ROLL

**********

The wooden wall suddenly explodes, knocking us both to the ground. Bunnie loses her grip on me and someone else grabs me by the shirt, pulling me through the hole in the wall. Outside, the moaning crowd goes about their business, busy getting off the two FBI agents. Rotor pulls me to my feet and lets go of my shirt, cocking his shotgun.

“The woods! GO! I’m right behind you!” Rotor fires off another shot and nails a support beam, knocking down the porch and trapping Bunnie inside for the time being. I don’t stick around to see how long it takes for her to break out.

I can hear Rotor close behind me as I run as fast as I can into the woods, until finally I’m too tired to go on. At least the village is a suitable distance away when I stop; I can’t hear the moans.

Leaning against a tree and keeping a very close eye on Rotor in case he tries anything, I catch my breath. “And now I have to buy a new belt. Great.”

“That’s the least of our problems,” he says, sitting down, seemingly uninterested in penetrating me. “Never have I seen such a fucked up collection of wanton sucking and fingering. Deeper anatomy has scarred me for life. Is that shit really inside of us?”

“Afraid so.”

“Criminal. What melee. This plot, it’s surely something that effects all of us.”

“What the fuck else is new. How do we stop it before it gets out of hand?”

Before he can venture a suggestion, there is the sound of twigs breaking above. Rotor fires blindly at the noise, jumping back. A ton of metal falls and slams harshly into the dirt. A robotic voice moans in simulated pain.

“Swatty! I never thought I’d be this filled with joy at the sight of you.”

It twitches, crumbled like an aluminum can and now missing an arm, shooting sparks. “PERHAPS MY WORD NEED NOT BE MY BOND.”

“Shut up and call a HoverUnit to our position.”

Swatty obliges as Rotor shakes his head and sits back down, trying to laugh it all off. “Wish we had some beer right now, though we do have to be careful or this is going to turn into an Orin story.”

“I’d say we’ve reached that point already.”

“Better keep far away from Knuckles, then.” Rotor pulls more shells out of his belt and fills the chamber to the brim. “Someone obviously didn’t simplify this story,” he mumbles.

“Story? I thought Bunnie was behind it.”

“No, no way, she doesn’t think with portals. I thought Jake or that Cornwallace guy were the masterminds, but they’re too busy running the train on Dulcy to pen anything.” He shudders and pulls out a cigar. “Seems like writers these days get it into their heads that they’ve earned the right to produce friend-cameoing, self-deprecating garbage.”

“WITH GAY SEX,” Swatty adds.

Wait a minute… “You know what this entire situation reminds me of?”

“A billion other movies and episodes from dead cartoons and television shows?”

“And a story that Danse Macabre wrote way back when fanfiction was a slightly nobler pursuit. I forget the title.”

Rotor smirks, exhaling smoke. “You’re remembering a time long past, friend.”

“Long enough where somebody ripping it off could skate by unnoticed because the audience has the collective memory of a fucking goldfish?”

“… Heyyyyy-”

“Yes, it’s horrible. Someone is actually writing this tripe. Taking time out of their life to write something with terrible dialogue and tribute-characters.”

“AND GAY SEX.”

I should assume from now on that the same person is behind the same consecutive bullshit. No, not Santa. “That’s why you’re unaffected, Rotor. Nobody ever writes about you.”

He nods in agreement. “You know somebody who would do this?”

“Present company excluded? Yes. Yes I do.” The sound of an approaching HoverUnit reaches us, growing louder and louder. “Hightail it, Rote, they’re on shoot-to-kill, and I don’t mean with weapons.”

“Gotcha.” He disappears into the woods.

Swatty and I wait for the HoverUnit to pick us up, hoping that we still have enough time to stop him before it all goes to hell.

**********

With only one arm, Swatty crashes the HoverUnit directly into headquarters, saying something like “STOP BREATHING OUT OF YOUR NOSES YOU MOTHERS YOU’LL KILL US ALL.” We miss the control room and land in the hallways. Ignoring cuts and scrapes and brushing pieces of windshield off of my uniform, I run to where Robotnik busies himself with doing nothing, voices growing ever louder.

“Why can’t you be better?”

“At what, exactly?”

“Everything.”

“Get him harder, Wingless! Exploit his fat ass as much as possible!”

“… I hope you mean literally. Robotnik, anyone ever tell you your nose looks like a dog’s dick?”

“Great. Now I can never watch the show the same way again.”

“Nice priorities, Lazer. Shut the fuck up.”

I slam into the door with my shoulder, busting rudely into Control like I own the place. The same fanfiction authors from earlier stand around Robotnik, trying to intimidate him into being smarter. Trust me, that doesn’t work either.

Robotnik screams in fright as I grab his blue crystal and chuck it as hard as I can against the wall. It shatters and drenches the room in darkness.

“You clumsy idiot!” He reactivates the house lights with the flick of a switch. “I ordered you to goldbrick! I even gave you a copy of Expect to Cry, why aren’t you reading it?”

“Because it’s derivative as shit, sir.” I swipe a copy of his printed fanfiction, speed-reading. “Just as I thought; everything that has happened to us, in poorly-described detail.”

“I told you something was a foot!”

“It was not.” Fish takes a page and skims it. He whistles, impressed. “That’s something I’d like to see more of: Rotor with a shotgun.”

I yank the page out of Fish’s hands and throw it to Wingless Rain. “Don’t you encourage him. Why did you do it, Uncle? You know how much I hate the things you almost had done to me.”

His mouth opens wide in shock. “I was inspired by my spacewalk! And the Harmonic Sonic episode.”

“God, the Star Wars influence is so obvious in that one. Why would you design your satellite with an atmosphere if you build robots?”

“Maybe Sonic and Rotor can breathe in space, you ever consider that?”

“I’ve been alive long enough to where I don’t think of dumb shit in the first place, sir.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have given you the DVD set for your birthday.”

“Oh, it was my birthday? I thought you were too lazy to beat me and figured that making me watch the show was the next best thing.”

Robotnik holds his chest, feigning pain. “Your insults… they cut me… like a knife. Much like a knife.”

Tha Kalligrapha, still naked, spins Robotnik to face him. “Why did you make me into some geek with an obvious case of homosexual panic?”

“I thought it would be funny.”

LazerTH spins Robotnik towards him next. “Like making us into morons who don’t know our own assholes from a hole in the ground?”

“Don’t take it so personally. It’s just a story for fuck’s sake.” Robotnik slumps, saddened. “I just wish time would pass already, so I could see how I could make it not suck.”

“Then get rid of the script format, that shit is quicksand. But I think killing us off was a good idea,” Wingless Rain adds, still reading the drivel.

“Thanks!” Kill me, Robotnik’s actually blushing. “I appreciate that so much.”

“It needs more action. There are several points where you could add a long, drawn-out action sequence with lots of violence.” He hands the story back to the owner. “You wanna try that?”

“I could so do that! Wanna help?”

“That would be ideal!”

Wingless Rain and Robotnik lean over the laptop, eagerly chattering about the fanfic they’re going to cowrite. Fish the Impaler smiles, happy with how this turned out, I guess.

“Always knew you were a masochist, Fish,” LazerTH grunts, writing more in his notepad.

Kalligrapha scratches his ass, worried about himself. “Now that I think about it, I touch my dick when I pee. Does that make me gay?”

Swatty, having just entered and knowing no context for the query, leans close to him and answers. “ABSOLUTELY. YOUR NOSE IS BLEEDING.”

And I give up.

**********

I will summarize this shit the way Robotnik would, because honestly, I’m sick of thinking about it.

Without the blue crystal, Knothole was restored to its original unrealistic-goal oriented, free Mobius-toasting hackness.

All of the characters and authors were sent back to their own universe, except for Wingless Rain/Vincent Valentine/Whatever He Is Now, who stayed behind to help Robotnik finish his story. I’m… pretty sure I get fucked in it.

I can hear them talking about it every time I walk by the control room:

“Looks like Allison Fleury isn’t the only one who got Snively in the end! Eh? EH?”

“You’re not getting co-writer credit for that, Wingless.”

“… Damn.”

I’m still not lowering my intelligence in order to enjoy my vacations, because if I ever raised it the following morning to find out that I had written fanfiction, or help me, erotic fanfiction the previous evening, I would force jagged fencewire down my throat. And I would have it coming.

Maybe next vacation I’ll find something productive to do, like find out where Knothole is. See if Bunnie is still there… and get my belt back, of course, not fuck her, you sick freaks.

In closing:

The truth…

Well…

It’s fucking out there and shit. I guess. I’m tired. Leave me alone.