Fullest Apartment

Chapter Two Part Two: The Fast Furry Fisters

The year was 2011. Avril Lavigne blasted out of my Hello Kitty headphones as I perused the city. Golden lights rained down upon me, reflecting off my skin and making me seem like an asian my mom would want to keep around. It was a time of innocence, a time of Claire's shopping trips. However, everything would change once I discovered what Hot Topic was; and how did I discover that, you may ask? The answer lies in the meeting which was about to occur.

As I turned a sharp corner, the sounds of a motorcycle revving its engine could be heard; it had come from the front of my body, causing me to take a few steps back in shock and silent terror. My eyes were blinded by the bright lights that emanated from the vehicle, but once they adjusted to the light five figures could be seen.

"Wh-what do you want?" I stuttered out. Wow, being mugged for the first time, and by a motorcycle gang no less. I've always had a danger kink, so it's fair to say that a situation such as this had only existed in my dreams up until now.

"Put these on. Now."
The supposed leader threw something at me, not caring if the flying object hit me directly in the face. Luckily I caught it because I'm on that everyday grind, 💪😤💦 but if I wasn't such a pimp that could have seriously hurt me.

When I looked down at the object that at thrown at me, I found a pair of cat ears. Leopard print, too. As many of you have already inferred, I am indeed a furry, so this didn't seem to bother me. Want proof? I own a Blu Ray of Zootopia, and Blu Rays haven't been relevant in YEARS.

Turning my gaze back to the leader, I noticed how popping her makeup was. She definitely followed James Charles' makeup tutorials, them highlights almost snatched my weave straight off my head! Her frizzy hair and colored in crayon eyebrows also drew my attention. I then looked to the other riders, realizing that I recognized them.

"Michelle Obama? Oprah Winfrey, is that you too?"
Before I get drugged and killed I should at least get an autograph. I'm boutta be rich in the afterlife!!
"Huh? Oh, I'm not Oprah. I'm Opera Winfeld. Michelle is legit though."
Damn, these great-value-free-to-play-ass-celebrities be booming. Whatever, counterfeits are in these days!

"Hey, how come one of you is on a unicycle?" I asked, changing the subject as I noticed the oddity in their chosen vehicles.
"We ran out of motorcycles. Prostitution really doesn't pay that well," the one on the singular wheeled contraption responded.

"Enough."
The leader glared at me, causing my voice to fall silent.
"Do you know who we are? I am Sparklylung, leader of the Fast Furry Fisters."
My eyes widened at that. They were one of the most well known gangs in the country. Their appearances were as inconsistent as Kait's upload schedule, but regardless their very name could shake the hearts of fuckboys across the nation.

Apparently, their gang had formed after a multitude of hormonal furry-loving teens formed together to marry and kill as many sugar daddies as the could. It's fair to say that shortly after their appearance the population of old men dropped as hard and fast as my grades. Fuck you, AP gov.

I quickly put on the leopard print cat ears, not keen on angering the infamous boss of the deadly and dangerous gang known as the Fast Furry Fisters. Credit roll, anyone?
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I fully support your cause, by the way. Howl, my furry brethren."
I began to nervously sing the My Little Pony soundtrack to verify my status as a certified furry shishter.

A long pause. Oh god, did I mess up? That makeup was already slaying my existence, so I didn't particularly mind if I was killed here.
"Can you ride a motorcycle?"
"No, but I can cry on command."
It's true, that's how I avoided my glass blowing classes back in the day.
"Good enough, you're hired."
"H-hired?"
"Yeah, now grab my hand."
The fellow asian reached out her hand to me, brown eyes to match my own staring back at me with a playful glint swirling inside. She was probably being cinematic for the sake of the story, as considering her position on the motorcycle her pulling me on would be pretty impractical. I'd probably hit myself on the handle if anything.
"Ocean man?"
"No... The name's Kait, and I'm gonna suffo-"
She looked up, repeating that over for a few moments before giving up with a sigh.
"That sounded better in my head. Hop on loser, we goin' for a ride 🤪🙏🤧😂😎💓💖👋😣💁‍♀️"

And thus, a friendship began. It was pretty one sided, however, as you bet this new acquired furry sister is out of my league. By far.