Videogame Cats III: Evilguy
Co-written by Aetre and Sinder
Note from Aetre: This story exists with Scott Ramsoomair’s expressed, written permission. Even though Scott will never read this, because he is a lazy, lazy man who to this day has not read either of the first two fanfics. I’m not one to complain, though; I mean, we all have our tastes, and some people just don’t like reading. Kind of like I can’t stand five-hour Balinese Gamelan concerts. (Look it up; you’re on the Internet and have things like Google at your disposal...)
Anyway... enjoy the story. It’s a bit different from the first two, in that it uses first person in order to imitate the “film noir” feel, but otherwise, all the same rules apply as before... As a note, all scenes that do NOT involve Evilguy will be in script format. So don’t expect narration throughout; just when Johnny’s there.
In life, a man can have many names; on the Internet, very many. I’m the kind of man who’s been known by a different name so many times, my fake ID collection is a longer read than a Google search list for pornography. Lately, however, there’s one identity I’ve grown close to... What can I say? Every man’s gotta settle down sometime. For me, that means settling in an obscure, yet high-traffic corner of this dark, smut-infested city we call the Web. I have an office there, and I own some shops nearby. There, I am successful, and for the first time, the name I’ve made for myself has really become a name to remember. In this part of the Internet, I am known as Johnny Evilguy.
Things were going great a few months ago. My business was taking off, my screen name was spreading through the underground currents, and yet it did remain strictly underground and never caught more attention than I wanted. Yes, things were looking up; I was higher than a Baltimore crack whore, but in a good way.
Then, one night at the office, she came in. I knew right off the bat this was no ordinary customer... even given that “ordinary” on the Internet is a category wider than Oprah Winfrey during a bad year. This dame who walked in was furrier than Robin Williams and pinker than Richard Simmons... Sorry, I’ve been reading too many net tabloids lately...
But there she was, an anthropomorphic feline with a figure sure to make sick-minded thirteen-year-olds bone as hard as anything in a natural history museum. She wore a lavender turtleneck, a pink jacket, and jeans--a decidedly discrete outfit for such an outlandish character. She stood in the doorway and put one hand to her hip, as if she were waiting for me to do something.
“May I help you?” I asked.
“Hello, Johnny. Don’t suppose you remember me...”
Oh shit. Not another drunken night come back to haunt me...
“Listen, kid, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, but I don’t hang out with furries, and no offense, but you’re not my type...”
“No, no,” she purred, half in a laugh and half in disgust. “My... ah, brother and I met you in one of your shops.”
Whew. “I got a lot of customers; I can’t remember everybody.” I put my feet up on the desk and crossed them at the ankles. “In fact, I make it my business not to remember anybody.”
“Regardless,” she said. Then she closed the door and walked up to the desk. “I heard what you do here, and I got a job for ya. And I’ll pay you half in advance.”
She took a liter-sized burlap bag out of her jacket and plopped it coyly in front of me. I reached out and took a brief look at the contents.
“You got balls, kid,” said I. “...I like that.”
“Here’s what I want you to do...”
Meanwhile, at an online Counterstrike battlefield, the losing team slowly arises from their “killed” positions and gets ready for the rematch...
Dude 1: Oh man... We got pwned. (groan of pain)
Dude 2: Oh shit man, I don’t feel right...
Dude 3: Aw, SICK! Dudes, they cut off our balls!
dud3 f0u|2: OMGWTFHAXX!!!!11one
Dude 1: Calm down... I’m sure it’s just a gloating thing, and when the rematch game starts, we’ll go back to full health...
The game restarts.
Dude 2: Uh...
Dude 3: Oh man... what are we going to do?
dud3 f0u|2: OMG PAIN
Dude 1: Guess we just have to fight it out and log in later with new screen names or something.
Dude 2: Right. But if we win this, I say we cut off their nuts, too, for revenge.
Dude 3: Yeah! Let’s fight these bastards! Now, let’s hear a battle cry!
dud3 f0u|2: LEEEEEEEEROOOOOY!!! (runs off into the battle)
Dude 1: Wait... wasn’t that the guy from World of Warcraft?
Dude 2: No wonder we got pwned...
The dame had an interesting proposition... So interesting, I might have accepted it for half the pay she was offering... though at her current price, I was ready to put everything else on hold and tend to the assignment immediately. But it wasn’t just the assignment itself that was so alluring...
Her soft voice made me think in terms of politically incorrect analogies... Her smooth attitude made my heart race like a black man from the police... Her Cheshire grin made me grin back like a kidnapper at a little league game...
In a way, she had me at hello... though in another, more profitable way, she now had me by the balls. Whatever bad joke you use, it all added up to an eagerness on my part surpassed only by Republicans at a party fundraiser.
“...So do you think you can do that for me, Johnny?”
“Alright,” I said. “I read you loud and clear, kid. I’ll start immediately... You sure know the way to get a man to do what you want...”
“Mm. You mean showing him a bag of chopped-off testicles? Yeah... I suppose that does tend to get their attention...”
She smirked coolly and eyed me as if I were catnip. Yes, I thought, this was going to be interesting...