Writers, Pen Pals, and Blind Dates (story title)

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Writers, Pen Pals, and Blind Dates (story title)

Postby Duct Tape Fanatic » Sat Jan 31, 2004 12:35 am

Howdy everyone, and thank you for looking at this. This is the first time I've done this so I hope I'm using the posting feature right, please don't get mad if I'm not. Since this is the story column, I'm posting a story (yeah, I know that was obvious). On a note, I'd like to say that the setting for this isn't the world we now, which you'll find out quickly. That's enough out of me. Enjoy!


*********************************************

Today had been going so well, thought Rick Owens with a dismayed sigh as he entered his apartment and found Lars Garner, the building's owner looking at him with a sneer. He had a yellow slip in one hand that seemed to further endorse the expression on his face.

"Evening, sir," he still tried to say cheerfully. A girlfriend he had in high school once told him that when he smiled,there was a twinkle his blue eyes and dark brown hair that made it impossible to be angry or hold a grudge against him. Unfortunately, Mr. Garner wasn't his old girlfriend.

"Your second and third rent payments are two days late." He said coldly. He was a man who reminded Rick of a bull: short temper, lots of fat, and simple minded. But, he held the twenty-one year-old's home in his pocket, so Rick had spent a year swallowing his pride an enduring his unending nattering.

"Yes sir," he replied, "but I made my last payment on time---in fact, it was even a day early as sort of an apology for not having it the other two times." It wasn't that he'd been lazy or anything; Rick simply hadn't had any cash on hand due to the fact that he'd been forced to pay off his car at the same time, and also that he didn't necessarily have the best income in the world.

Since being a kid, Rick had wanted to be an author, and upon graduation of high school, he'd set out to fulfill his dream. However, the current state of society didn't have much use for authors, it seemed instead that everyone was too busy zipping about the city and using technology to read a good book.

Not that HE avoided technology. In his apartment, he kept a small computer with all the world-net functions as everyone else's, and in fact it was where he sent out his entries to the few publishing companies in Nedonall, hopeful that he'd get one sold. In the meantime, he worked in a small coffee shop down the road to make ends meet-----just barely.

Now the mid-fifties man thrust the yellow slip into his hand, and with a pleased grin said, "You're out, kid." He'd known for years that the Garner didn't like him and would look for an opportunity to do this, but it still hit him hard as he read the eviction notice.

"Why?" He asked, getting angry, and he genuienly wanted to know.

"Because, I got an offer from somebody else for your room," his banisher smiled. "And not only does he pay on time, BUT, he tips pretty good." He pointed out the window of the first-story brick building to the parking lot below. There sat a shiny, red, beautiful car that looked like it came out of the factory with the paint still wet.

There was no point trying to be polite anymore, so Rick growled back, "What? Somebody got a car for my room? What's so great about it And," he decided to hit on a personal point, "isn't that seat too small for your butt?"

Garner snarled, crinkling the newspaper in his right hand. "That somebody is none other than Darver Heroll, who's buying this, and every other apartment complex on the street." He grinned toothily. "And after I was informed of that, he asked me if I could provide a room for his son. Of course I said yes." His grin went back to the old sneer. "You have twenty-four hours to clear out, Owens, then I call the cops and you get a new lodging that you msy not like."


**********************************************

Fifteen minutes later he was in his room, goraning loudly as he flopped down on the medium-sized bed. In his right hand, he held the notice. In his left hand, he held a still-unopened letter from the publisher he sent his last work to.

"Please let SOMETHING go right today," he muttered, tearing open the envelope and withdrawing the small piece of paper. He looked at it, read it twice, then groaned again even loader as a pit formed in his stomach.

"Mr. Owens," it began, "we regret to inform you...." from there, it quite clearly stated that the last two months he'd spent working on his novel went down the commode. He buried his head under his pillow and just sat there for a long time.

"Why me?" He asked rhetorically. "No major dough, no apartment, I guess I'll have to live in the woods or something and hope a macrofur doesn't find me."

The macrofurs were the dominant species on Nedonall, and even with the smaller humans and normal-sized furs' advancements in technology, by and large if one decided to stroll through a city or town, causing a good deal of property damage, were little more than ankle-high pests, or worse, depending on how some of the macrofurs saw them, as food that sometimes had cute, little noisemakers that did no more than sting a bit.

There was one more letter to be opened, and Rick had purposely saved it for last in case he needed some cheering up, which he did now. Rather than it being a physical piece of paper, instead he booted up his computer, went to his e-mail screen, and brought up the unopened file that came from one of his few sources of happiness in the world.

<Hello, Rick>, said the message. <I got the directions to your home and after all that time role-playing, I decided that I needed to see favorite macro-friend up close.> Despite the situation he was in, he had to grin as he recalled his friend that he'd met online a few years ago in a place that let you take on the persona of a macrofur and do the general things that they were known for.

Wait? See him? Hastily, Rick began typing a reply, hoping that he'd catch the messages' receipient while they were online. <Hello VixenStomp137> he wrote, <It's me, WolfCrush89. I'm not really sure if you'd want to come to where I am, it's> he thought for a minute. <It's pretty rough here, you might get lost in town and end up I trouble. It's better if we just stayed long distance friends.> Not only did he not want his internet pen pal to see what state his life was: a failing writer with little future now that he had no home, but he'd heard that meeting someone face-to-face from online was a bad idea.

He clicked on SEND, and went into the processing program to try to come up with a short story that might have been able to earn him some money for a bus ticket home, to where his parents would be to take him in like a little boy since he literally couldn't make it on his own now.

He sighed, and was about to shut his computer down when he suddenly got a message saying he had a new e-mail. He clicked on the file, and once more was graced with VixenStomp's presence.

<You are so sweet> it said, <I love a guy who shows concern for a girl traveling alone. But don't worry, I'll be fine---say, how about when we meet we can do something fun together? Talk to ya later.> Great, he thought, now I meet someone I've been roleplaying with for years, and she's probably going to think I'm a washed up case of wanna-be.



***************************************************

When Rick had told his online companion---who was now his online date--that if she ever wanted to meet him, a good spot would be out by where the forest met the ocean.

So, he took a dirt road out along the coast for a ways, until he got to the spot they had often talked about seeing each other at---in between pretending to be giant furs rampaging through virtual cities. He parked the car next to a tree that was on the small side: only twenty feet around at the trunk.

Many things were bigger than the humans and furs of Nedonall, it was something they'd all been forced to live with. Rick had heard that there was a time when a city had involved massive buildings that were as big as the hundreds-of-feet tall trees, but no more remained due to them being prime targets for macrofurs. This made them in turn targets of widespread resentment, but personally, Rick had figured that they were divided in good and bad personalities just like humans and smaller furs.

That still didn't mean he wouldn't run like crazy if he ever saw one. In school they'd been shown the "rampage films," and that was enough to make him decide that even given the benefit of the doubt, it wasn't a good idea to try to see what a 100ft tall fur was like on the inside---since the only way for that might involve getting eaten.

He drew most of his inspiration from nature, so while waiting, and trying to think of a way from letting the truth out, Rick curled up on the ground in front of a tree and gazed up into the branches that formed the beginning of the canopy that stretched around the borders of the city he lived in. This is, very, very peaceful, he smiled, shutting his eyes for a nap.

Then the peace ended.

Rick heard it the sounds about two seconds before he FELT them. A thunderous booming shook the air, and he snapped fullly awake to hear a loud chorus of squalling and squawking as the animals in the immediate vicinity bolted into the forest.

I better follow their lead, he thought, getting up and running back towards the car. Very few small animals could make such a racket coming through the woods, but now as his panicked heart drove him in a frenzied race for the blue, beat-up automobile, he realized that the pounding had stopped.

It didn't matter to Rick as he rounded the side of the trunk. All that was important to him was that he get out of this forest and---he stopped with a gasp. There, on one knee, inspecting his car with a look of curiosity, was a macrofur.

It was a fox, he could tell, and at that it was female. She had red and white fur that went down her thorat, across her chest and belly, and extended past her thighs. Rick swallowed hard, not just from fear, but also from noticing that she had what would amount to a sports bra and a pair of shorts on. He supposed that when you had fur you had little use for warmth. Her eyes were amber and she also had a full, red tail with a white tip that swished back and forth as she examined the vehicle.

So far, he himself hadn't been noticed as he stood there, paralyzed and completely unsure of what to do. His mind was numbed with fright, and from the size of her pointed ears, he guessed that any movement he made now might be deteced, and then he wouldn't have to worry about Garner's deadline, if the size of her teeth was anything to judge by.

The vixen suddenly reached out and picked the car up in both hands, though she probably could have held it in one. That car was about all he had left, and before he knew it Rick found himself doing the unthinkable.

"Hey!" He called out. "Please be careful with that!" A nanosecond later he was thinking, What have I done? The vixen's head snapped around to the sound of his voice. She scanned the forest, then looked down. Rick felt his stomach cramp as he literally felt her eyes on him.

She smiled. "Yours?" Came her voice, not quite as loud as he'd have thought, but it did command his attention, particularly since it also had a softness to it that matched her form, which he had no problem finding attractive.

He nodded. Then, to his complete surprise, the vixen actually set the car carefully back on the ground before getting back to her feet and walking causally over to him, making thudding footfalls and appoaching at a speed that wasn't very casual to him.

She got within, to her a foot, to him, ten feet, of Rick and sat down. Rick was speechless throughout all this, not able to utter a sound--that was, until her hand descended unexpectedly and her fingers, slim, but still wider than his waist, closed around him carefully.

He felt more embarassed at his squeak than afraid of his situation, that was until the hand tilted backwards and he was in her palm, looking directly into her vulpine face. She hopefully was smiling at him at this point, but all Rick really got out of it was two rows of sharp teeth half his size lining a mouth that emptied to a throat he could have easily slid through.

"Blue eyes, huh?" Her voice had a note of humor. "So, you told me the truth about that feature at least." Rick sat there, dumbfounded, until her words sank in and he uttered what crashed into his mind in a tiny, frail voice.

"VixenStomp137?"

"Yep," she nodded, eyes tingling in amusemt. "And I take it you're WolfCrush89?" He nodded again and she chuckled, a soft purring of thunder. "Well, whatdya know? It seems that the micros like doing this too. By the way, my real name is Silvia, and it's nice to meet you----."

"Rick," he replied with a gulp. "So, what happens now?"

Silvia smiled again, and leaned back against the tree, palm out at comfortable distance. "Well, I'm not going to hurt you, Rick, but I would like to talk with the guy I've been playing games online with for three years. You know, in person?"

Rick was trembling, but her reassurance of his safety touched off his artistic intuition. "Want me to put you down?" She asked, looking down at him expectantly. He realized that she was giving him every opportunity to escape.

"Actually," he said with a grin. "Your hand is pretty comfortable." This was met with a chorus of laughter that made him feel mirthful too, despite how loud it was.

"All right," she said, giggling, "So let's talk."


************************************************

Lars figured that Owens wasn't going to clear out before that rich kid got here. So, that evening he stepped out to his brand-new car, preparing to head down to the police station anyway, even if Rick still had five hours left.

He hated that kid anyway.

Lars was almost to the car when he noticed that something was in the parking space next to it. He squinted, then his jaw dropped when he saw what it was.

A rather large foot. And from down above a voice boomed, "EXCUSE ME, ARE YOU THE LITTLE WORM WHO"S KICKING OUT MY FRIEND?" Lars didn't reply, he screamed and turned to run, but before he could he was seized by two grapsing fingers and lifted high into the air.

He was brought before an angry, fanged muzzle that looked very displeased with him. His gaze shifted for a moment, and he saw none other than Rick himself waving from his perch on the giantess' shoulder.

"No---no!" He stammered. "P--p--please n-n-no!"

"Ah. So that means you're not him, huh?" The amber eyes turned to regard his car. "Then you won't mind if I do this?" She lifted her left foot, and in a deft motion brought it slamming down onto the vehicle. Glass shattered and metals groaned, but that was hardly Lars' concern now as she looked back at him.

"In that case, tell that guy that if he doesn't let my little friend go home, he's going to be worse off than that car." Aprubtly, the fingers released him and Lars fell with a wail a good thirty feet before he was caught again.

"GOT IT?"

He whimpered a meek yes. "GOOD, I'LL BE WATCHING YOU." With that, the giant vixen strolled off, leaving him to discover his wet pants.


*******************************************

Rick was laughing for minutes as they made it back to the woods. "I wish I was your size," he said up to Silvia from where he rode.

She smiled, glancing down at him concernedly, "I hope that fixes a problem for you." Her voice grew tender as she plucked him off her shoulder and set him down gently, "If there's anything else you need from me before I head home---."

"No, I'm fine," he added.

"But, what about your writing?"

"That," he said with a smile, "Is something I'll have little trouble finding inspiration for now."
Fixing the world, one duct tape job at a time.
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Postby Malcolm the Bear » Sat Jan 31, 2004 1:15 am

Not bad. You have a nice, easy style, making for a comfortable read, despite a couple typos here or there. Any plans for future installments, or is this it?
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Senator 2: "I didn't know Gloria was sick!"

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Typos apology

Postby Duct Tape Fanatic » Sat Jan 31, 2004 4:00 am

Yeah, actually I'm planning on having a sort of series that takes place in the funny little world I've created. Sorry about the typos, I always seem to end up with them popping up in whatever I write*sigh*. Also sorry about it going into italics there halfway through; I was messing around with the text buttons at that point and I'm new here. But, bottom line is that I plan on writing more, and I'll try to proofread better next time.
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Postby Nemesis » Sat Jan 31, 2004 9:10 am

Good story. Whenever I try to write macro, I get the proportions all wrong.
I hate that.
It grows from living in a country that uses the far superior metric system, while most literature uses the crummy imperial system.
Get with the rest of the world, America!
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Postby SufferingPlanet » Sun Feb 01, 2004 5:32 am

that was an amazing story mate! gods where do you folks get these ideas?!
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Postby crazyfox22 » Mon Dec 24, 2007 1:12 am

I love the story
If you have more then one, please send me the link
To the other parts of the story ya know!!!
I NEED TO READ MORE OF THIS!!
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Postby Kusanagi » Mon Dec 24, 2007 1:59 am

Haven't seen DTF around in awhile but you can find several of his stories on here if you're willing to search. Or if you're feeling lazy http://stories.bigfurs.com/storylist.php you can find several here.
http://www.furaffinity.net/user/kusanagi/

http://giantessworld.net/viewuser.php?uid=27873 (something new has been added :o)

catch other stories by the drunken writer
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Postby Freshmeat » Tue Dec 25, 2007 12:54 am

do i hear the prquel to "converting calories"?

Very nice, love the way the meeting played out.
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