Chrome
Author:
Organizational:
Audience Rating:
Taxonomy upgrade extras:
Chrome
Bemused 1 - Chapter One
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Themes:
Permission:
In the near future, the real world is dying.
Every geek’s fantasy is coming true. Superheroes, dragons, spaceships, giant robots, zombies, scantily clad French maids…they have all become real. It is miraculous that civilization has not plunged into total chaos.
What is causing this, and why?
Some nutcases think it is an alien invasion. Other nutcases think it is the beginning of the Apocalypse. Our three non-nutcase protagonists, however, just want to finish their college days in relative peace. Unfortunately, they are about to find themselves…
Somewhere in the aether of the cosmos, across from Zeus’ penthouse, next to Cthulhu’s condominium, a business meeting was going to hell. Not —the- Hell, though–that was a couple blocks away. The Eleven Muses were running out of options.
Calliope scowled. “Useless humans!”
“Bash them all you want, but you must admit: they have been pretty useful, given the circumstances.” Cenobia said meekly.
“’Given the circumstances!’ Do you have any idea how tired I am of hearing your relentless rationalizations?”
“Calliope, they’re mortals. You have to be patient with them.” Cenobia said. “They’re far more valuable than you think.”
“Valuable? They’re about as valuable as a dying crap apple tree!”
“I believe you mean a ‘crab’ apple tree.” Sappho said.
“Silence, you sniveling sycophant!” Calliope thundered. She gestured to her heavy tablet. “My words and deeds are written in stone!”
“If you're going to go around screaming insults, Calliope, I would suggest that you at least try to understand what they mean." Clio said. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do something productive.”
Clio massaged her aching temples. These conferences kept getting worse and worse. Whoever deemed Calliope the “wisest Muse” was either an imbecile or had a wicked sense of irony.
Erato scooped up another handful of potato chips and resumed her assault on the television remote. “Calliope has a point. Have you seen what’s on HBO lately? It’s awful. Even they can’t come up with new ideas.”
“Truly, the end is near.” Thalia whimpered.
“I don’t know what’s wrong!” Calliope said. “Have the humans forgotten how to think creatively? Surely, there must be some reason behind all this.”
Clio stopped typing at her laptop and looked pale. There was no doubt about it now: the statistics were right in front of her. “I think I’ve identified the culprits.”
“And who might they be?” Calliope said.
“Fanboys.”
The restaurant was crowded, so it was hard to hear what the news anchor was saying. Not that it mattered to Steve. After all, the news was the same as yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that, too. “Dear God, when will people just move on with their lives?” Steve lamented, shaking his head disgustedly at the television. Yes, weird things were happening. Weird things had been happening regularly for the past six months. So why did everyone insist on calling them “weird?” It was weird.
“The world was shocked last week by the bizarre incident during the 5th Annual KlingCon at the Bertram Convention Center.” The anchor said.
Mike took another sip of his margarita. “Whatever. So Dirk, what was your take on the movie?”
Dirk’s posture suddenly became perfect, and Steve and Mike braced themselves for another dreaded otaku rant. “Personally, I thought the cyberpunk aspect was a bit overdone…but I was so thrilled when they made that Ghost in the Shell reference!”
Steve sighed. “A little bit too thrilled, I’d say. You looked like you were about to cream your pants.”
Dirk glared at him. “This is coming from the self-proclaimed ‘Master Debater?’”
“I told you to stop calling me that! I was drunk, and that was four years ago!”
On the television screen, the “Bertram Incident” was being shown. The grainy aerial video footage showed the Bertram Convention Center, a marvel of modern engineering. It was festooned with banners for the KlingCon sci-fi festival, complimenting its space-age architecture.
Seconds later, the building shattered into a sea of sparkling shards and astonished fanboys, all suspended in midair. As the camera zoomed in on the spectacle, the shards coalesced into a sleek black spaceship. Without so much as a goodbye, it blasted off into the deep blue sky, bringing thousands of diehard Trekkies with it. “Good riddance.” Steve thought.
“Authorities are still struggling to ascertain the current whereabouts and welfare of the victims. In other news, the Japanese Prime Minister announced today that he would introduce a bill to the Diet to control Tokyo’s insurance rates, which have been skyrocketing ever since the appearance of the so-called ‘mecha.’”
Mike plunked his glass down on the table. “Enough already! I didn’t organize this outing so we could bitch at each other! We have only one more year of college left. Then we’ll be scattered all over the country. Are you guys going to waste this time acting like six-year-olds?”
Dirk and Steve momentarily fell silent.
Dirk sighed. “I’ll pay the bill.”
“No, I’ll do it!” Steve countered.
“Shh! I’m trying to listen to this!” A nearby restaurant-goer whispered, much to Mike’s relief.
“Joining us tonight is Dr. Johann Jansen, who has been spearheading the effort to understand the meaning behind all these strange events.” The anchor droned. “Dr. Jansen, thank you for being with us tonight.”
“You’re welcome. As many of you are aware, the only apparent connection between the occurrences is that they have primarily affected ‘fandoms.’ However, the Bertram Incident makes it painfully clear that there is still much we do not understand. The question that lingers in everyone’s mind, scientist and layman alike, is ‘What will happen next?’”
Suddenly the screen went static. But that didn’t bother Steve. What did bother Steve was how everyone except for him and his friends seemed to be stuck in a loop, and not in a metaphorical sense.
A waitress moved to take a tray, jolted back, moved to take the tray, jolted back. The customer began to thank her, stopped, and began to thank her again. A man fell off his seat, reappeared on top of it, and then fell off.
“Uh, guys?”
Mike and Dirk had already noticed. The trio exchanged bewildered glances. Apparently, either they were the victims of an elaborate prank, or they were in the middle of a catastrophic chronological distortion. Or in laymen’s terms, time had just made a major f-up.
A beautiful blue sphere of light materialized in the center of the restaurant, capturing their gaze for an infinite second. Then it blossomed into a beautiful blue explosion that turned the entire building into smoldering wreckage. Beautiful smoldering wreckage.
Dirk had an enlightened thought before the blast engulfed him. It was something like, “ZOMGWTF?
Beep…beep…
Though his mind was hazy, Dirk quickly realized that he was in some sort of recovery room.
He thought back. Last thing he had remembered, he was at some restaurant, then he had been blown up. That sucked. At least he didn’t need to pick up the tab. Mike was always ordering such expensive shit…
That started a new train of thought. Was Mike okay? Was Steve okay? Emphasis on Mike.
What had happened between now and then? He couldn’t recall anything save for---
A white conference room. Eleven women sat at a long rectangular table, staring at him balefully–
--and the words, Mist, Heatwave, and Breeze.
Where the hell did those thoughts come from? He could’ve sworn that he’d heard that people don’t dream if they’ve been knocked out. Now he could write a book about how wrong they were, win a Nobel Prize, and get to marry the President. Only for his money, though. He wasn’t gay. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay. It was only wrong if you, like, never wore anything but a Speedo and ran around punching grade-schoolers. Then you’d be an asshole, not gay.
Maybe his brain just needed to finish booting up. Yeah, that made sense.
“Good morning, Chosen One.”
If his body had not felt like a bag of rotting tomatoes, Dirk would’ve sat bolt upright.
Bemused 2
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Themes:
Permission:
In the near future, the real world is dying.
Every geek’s fantasy is coming true. Superheroes, dragons, spaceships, giant robots, zombies, scantily clad French maids…they have all become real. It is miraculous that civilization has not plunged into total chaos.
What is causing this, and why?
Some nutcases think it is an alien invasion. Other nutcases think it is the beginning of the Apocalypse. Our three non-nutcase protagonists, however, just wanted to finish their college days in relative peace. Unfortunately, they found themselves...
It wasn’t just the suddenness of the voice that startled Dirk; it was the strangeness of it. Dirk knew that the speaker had just said something in English, but he simply could not understand what he was saying. Had the explosion given him some kind of brain injury? As the haze in his mind began to clear, he realized that even his thoughts seemed…different. As though he was thinking in a different language.
He tried to tell the man that he was sorry that he couldn’t understand.
“Sumimasen ga, wakarimasen.” he said. Two things quickly became apparent to Dirk: One, he was speaking Japanese, and two, he sounded like a little girl. That was somewhat unusual.
“My apologies…the A.T.S. is off,” the stranger said as he fiddled with a device strung around Dirk’s neck. “That should do it.”
Dirk soon heard the man’s words repeated, this time in his new native language.
“A.T.S. o tsukemasen.”
When Dirk uttered a response, “Nani goto desu ka,” his speech was translated into English. “What’s going on?”
“You were the victim of the anomaly that occurred two days ago. Most of the people in the restaurant survived unharmed. However, you and your two friends underwent some major changes.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The man gazed at Dirk intently. “Do you really wish to understand what has happened?”
“Yup.”
He sighed sagely. “You are the reincarnation of the Crystal Guardian. You have been chosen by the Crystal Goddess to become the keeper of the Crystal of Eternity. In order to do that, however, you had to be transformed into a young Japanese girl.”
“How does that make sense?”
The man erupted into laughter. “You’re a sharp one, miss: a lot of people I give that Crystal Guardian speech to just let me keep bullshitin’ away. To tell you the truth, I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on. I wasn’t kidding about you changing age, gender, and ethnicity, though. Toodle-oo!” With a slight grunt of effort, the stranger stood up and withdrew himself from the room. Just before Dirk could breathe a sigh of relief, he popped his head back into the doorway and said, “By the way, the name’s Chip Gilligan. You’ll be seeing a lot of me in the future.” As Chip vanished around the corner, Dirk received the distinct impression that he was wearing fake cat-ears.
“…changing age, gender, and ethnicity.” No. That simply couldn’t be. Summoning all his strength, Dirk threw aside the bedsheets and surveyed his body.
As Chip Gilligan walked down the hallway, he was not entirely surprised to hear a glass-shattering feminine shriek of terror. “Hoo boy,” he murmured to himself. “Try to be honest with a girl, and she goes super-hyper-intergalactic psycho.”
A nurse accosted him. “Chip!”
“Uh oh.”
“Were you talking with the patients again? I thought Childs told you to stop that!”
Chip sighed. “Yeah, yeah. He wants me to be all ‘nice’ to them and such.”
“No, he wanted you to stay the hell away from the recovery rooms, period. How did you get into this sector, anyway?”
“It’s not important. What is important is that you Dr. Phil wannabes are so busy trying to ‘ease’ the patients into their new jobs that you’re forgetting that they’re superhuman. They’re tough. They can take it.”
“Your ‘shock therapy’ is counterproductive, Chip. The patients need time to adjust to their new bodies and their new lives. How would you feel if you woke up like he did?” she said, gesturing wildly at Dirk’s room.
“I would feel great. Dirk and his friends have been given a blessing in disguise. That’s a hell of a lot better than no blessing at all.”
“That’s not for you to judge.”
“Of course it is. Childs has assigned me to accompany their team. I’m going to be their ‘animal mascot,’” Chip proclaimed, pointing to his fake cat-ears.
“You’re not an animal, Chip.”
“You know what? Fuck you.”
Dirk stared vacantly up at the recovery room’s ceiling. Many people in his situation would have attempted to explain this sudden turn of events as a dream or a hallucination; but Dirk was different. Dirk lacked the initiative to even bother asking why.
“So…Dirk Nelson. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
This voice was new, and strangely electronic. He sat up and looked over at its source to find it was not a man speaking to him, but…a television set?
On the screen was a silhouette of a man, but not much else.
“Who are you? Where’s Mike and Steve?”
“You may call me Mr. Childs. I represent an organization that seeks global peace and prosperity.”
“Don’t they all.” Dirk murmured.
Childs chuckled softly. “I’m already beginning to like you, Mr. Nelson. Quick wits are needed for your position. And as for your question about your friends, you will see them very soon. As in five seconds.”
Suddenly Dirk’s bed began to sink through a hole in the floor. Startled as he was, Dirk couldn’t help but marvel over how awesome that was. It was like “Get Smart” come to life! Hospitals would be so much more badass if they had these things installed.
After a few seconds, the elevator-bed-thingy completed its descent into a room below. Looking around him, Dirk could see several other beds. In them sat two unfamiliar Japanese girls. The one on his left looked to be in her late teens, and the one on his right was even younger than Dirk’s new body.
There was a second TV in this room, also with the shadowy figure of Childs on the screen. “I deeply apologize for being so abrupt, but Mr. Gilligan has deprived you of an opportunity to adjust. Mr. Nelson, Steven is on your left, and Michael is on your right.”
The trio exchanged looks of bewilderment.
“As you know, many inexplicable things have been happening as of late. Tensions are high. The general populace is on the verge of mass hysteria. If something is not done soon, panic and lawlessness will consume all civilization. If you so chose, you may prevent that from happening. You have recently been gifted with extraordinary powers, the exact specifics of which I can only guess at.”
“What I do know is this–should you choose to cooperate with my organization, we can save humanity from the growing chaos. Your task will not be easy. You will find yourself fighting against ruthless opponents, some human, and some not. But I have full confidence that you will succeed, because you will not be alone. My organization does not abandon the faithful. So, Dirk Nelson, Michael Tanner, and Steven Yale–will you follow me?”
Steve was the first to speak up. “Thanks, but no thanks. That sounds cool and all, but I’d really like to go back to normal.”
“I’ll second that,” Mike squeaked.
“But we haven’t seen our powers yet…” Dirk mumbled.
Childs paused. “I understand how you feel. I know how confused you are, and I would tell you so much more if I were allowed to. If you so desire, you may refuse my offer. However, only my organization has the resources to restore you to your former selves, and we will only help you if you can help us. Your choice.”
Steve’s lip curled. “So you’re going to exploit our misfortune and make us your prisoners?”
“In a way, aren’t we all prisoners of our responsibilities? But mark my words: your period of service will be brief and rewarded generously.”
The three looked at each other again. After a small eternity of whispered bickering, a collective sigh and a collective reply: “Fine. We’ll do it.”
“You better hold up your end of the deal,” Steve threatened. Before his transformation, he had a superb talent for giving people scornful looks. Now he just looked sulky. Adorable and sulky.
Though he couldn’t see his face, Dirk knew that Childs was grinning. “Very good.” Then he added, with a slight degree of reluctance, “Mr. Gilligan…you may enter. Childs out.” The TV went dark.
A man emerged from a hidden door. Much to Dirk’s revulsion, it was indeed Chip Gilligan. “Alright, people…we don’t have much time, so get up right now.” Chip said flatly.
As they stumbled out of their beds, Dirk looked around and noticed that he and his friends were all wearing dark green jumpsuits. Not exactly high fashion, but it was a hell of a lot better than hospital gowns.
“The first step,” Chip explained, “is to figure out what your abilities are. You now belong to a rare class of humans we call ‘Upholders’; people who have been given extraordinary powers. We first started encountering your kind when the strange phenomena began six months ago.”
“Wait–are you saying that we’re superheroes? I thought you said you had no idea what was going on.” Dirk said.
“Yeah, well, I lied. Anyway, do any of you like anime?”
“Are you seriously trying to change the subject from your knowledge about a global crisis to Japanese cartoon shows? You’re starting to sound like him.” Steve spat, casting a venomous glance at Dirk.
“All the Upholders seem to have powers based on what interests they had when they were normal humans.” Chip paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “This is just a hunch, but I think you guys might be some kind of magical-girl team. Try ‘powering up.’”
“Excuse me?” Steve asked incredulously.
Bemused 3
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Themes:
Permission:
In the near future, the real world is dying.
Every geek’s fantasy is coming true. Superheroes, dragons, spaceships, giant robots, zombies, scantily clad French maids…they have all become real. It is miraculous that civilization has not plunged into total chaos.
Struggling to adapt to their new bodies, Dirk, Mike, and Steve soon find themselves forced to use their supernatural powers to defend against horrifying monstrosities that belongeth not in the world of light...
No, I'm not talking about Comic-Con attendees.
“Power up. What, you don’t know what a transformation sequence is?” Chip rubbed his forehead. “Hoo, boy. We animal mascots have it tough.”
“You’re not an animal, you freaky fat-…” Steve began.
“Pink sugar stardust SURPRISE!” Dirk interrupted. “Twinkie power rainbow MAGIC!”
Mike and Steve cast baffled glances at him. “What are you doing?” Steve said, aghast.
“I’m trying to figure out what our power-up phrase is. Lovely heart dream MAKE-UP! Wonderful lyrical strawberry…”
Make it stop. Mike mentally pleaded. Make it stop. Soon, something was rising in his throat. At first he thought it was bile, but the truth was far more disturbing.
“Super Sentori…SUNRISE!” Mike exclaimed.
A hyperactive J-pop song immediately filled the air. White light enveloped everything below Mike’s neck, and with a series of blinding flashes, parts of the light coalesced into pieces of his costume. Pop. A pair of pink boots laced themselves around his feet. Pop. Long white gloves slid onto his hands. Pop. A sailor-uniform materialized on his torso. Pop. A cap blinked into existence on his head. As the song reached a crescendo, a magical staff appeared in his hands. With a fanciful musical flourish, he found himself lifting the wand into the air, crying, “Asa Sentori! FIGHT ON!”
His cry was echoed by Dirk and Steve, who had undergone similar costume changes.
“Shougo Sentori! FIGHT ON!” Dirk bellowed.
“Yuu Sentori! FIGHT ON!” Steve hollered.
After the henshin sequence released its grip on the trio’s nervous systems, they sighed in relief.
“’Super Sentori,’ eh?” Chip said. “I like it…although that theme music is probably going to get annoying real fast.”
Steve blinked, struggling to avoid having a seizure. “Mike, could you please never do that again?” he said, glancing down at his uniform. It resembled a navy blue blazer with a red tartan skirt, both of which were unnecessarily revealing. He was reminded why he hated anime; it always put boobs before brains. “Besides, I don’t exactly see how this will help me in combat.”
“Well, you are the only Sentori old enough for fanservice.” Chip said. “Makes sense to me.”
Before Steve could respond, Dirk made a series of menacing gestures at no one in particular, saying: “Your cruel transgressions fill the stars with dismay! We, the Super Sentori, will fight to save the day!”
Chip winced. “Either my translator is on the fritz, or you really suck at battle cries.”
Dirk shrugged. “It’s a work in progress. So, are there any bad guys around?”
“Funny you should say that. Here, let me bring you to the next part of the training course.”
The trio hesitantly followed Chip as he led them out of the room and down a sterile white hall. They passed by a multitude of doors with signs like “Chibi Cryo-Storage” and “Unicorn Electro-Castration Laboratory”, all with peculiar noises emanating from within. At last, Chip stopped in front of a door labeled
He suddenly looked uneasy. “This is where things will start to get hairy. I’m not allowed to tell you what you’ll be up against, but just stay cool, and you’ll probably be okay.”
“But we don’t know how to defend ourselves yet!” Steve protested. “What are we supposed to do, annoy them to death with transformation sequences?”
Chip sighed. “Look, I’ve worked with magical girls before. For some reason, they never can practice their attacks first. They always have to stumble around comically before they use their abilities for the first time.”
“That’s stupid.” Mike said.
He shrugged. “Hey. On the bright side, the only ‘injuries’ you usually sustain are minor cuts and small rips in your gloves. Now then, are you ready for this?”
“Heck yeah!” Dirk cried, throwing the door open and charging in. “LEEEEROOOOYYY…”
“…Jenk…ins.” Dirk murmured. The room was empty, save for a row of large steel shutters mounted on the far wall. Thus reassured that their training apparently didn’t require actual training, his two companions followed.
“Right, then!” Steve said. “You’ve shown us how to face our fears, Chip the Wise. Now can we leave?”
The door slammed shut behind them, locking on its own.
“Like I said, stay cool,” Chip said.
Shunk, shunk! The metal shutters slid open, but nothing was behind them except for inky blackness.
Inky blackness…with a side order of three zombies. “Unngghh,” one of them declared, and they began shuffling towards the girls at a truly zombitious pace. Steve and Mike began to back off. Dirk, however, nervously waited until he could feel their rotten breath on his face.
“Uh…TOASTER PASTRY SUPER-PUNCH!” he shouted as he swung at a zombie. His fist landed squarely in its gut, but it bounced off harmlessly. “Ah, crap.”
“Ungh?” The zombie inquired. It seemed to ponder the situation for several seconds before grabbing at Dirk, who narrowly ducked out of the way and fell on his ass.
“This makes no goddamn sense!” Steve cried as he dodged a lunging ghoul. “Not that it used to make goddamn sense.”
“Uh, Chip? Help, please?” Mike said.
“Nyaaah!” Chip suddenly screamed. “Nyaaah! Nyaaah!” He darted up to one of the zombies and began scratching frantically at its face. “Yowl, hiss!”
Mike blinked. “Wait–what?”
“I’m making cat noises,” Chip explained. “I’m your animal mascot, remember?” He returned to clawing at the zombie. “Nyaaah! Nyaaah!”
The zombie disgustedly slapped him away before heading for Mike, who backed into a corner and held up his tiny hands. “Please! Couldn’t we talk this over?”
If the zombie heard him, it didn’t show it. It continued limping towards him in a manner that was somewhat comical if one thought about it.
To Mike’s shock, a new phrase grabbed hold of his throat. “MORNING MIST!” he shouted, accompanied by a hopeful-sounding musical flourish.
The gem on the tip of his staff glowed. Suddenly, the room was filled with a knee-high pink fog. “What the heck did that do?” he said to himself.
He got his answer when he noticed what had happened to the zombies. Their speed had been reduced to a crippled snail’s pace. When he took an astonished step backward, he almost fell over: his feet moved through the mist like jet-engine roller skates. It took a few tries to figure out how to compensate for his new agility, but soon he was zipping around the room, laughing as a zombie face-planted trying to grab him. Said zombie quickly vanished afterward, presumably to seek jaw surgery.
Dirk watched this spectacle with simmering jealousy. Why did Mike always figure these things out first? It wasn’t like he was the one memorizing all the lines from Lyrical Nanoha. He glared at a nearby hapless zombie. If only he could take his anger out on--
“NOON HEATWAVE!” he blurted out, pointing his fist at the zombie. A sphere of yellowish-white energy burst out of it and crashed into the ghoul, throwing it across the room. It moaned in pain, then flickered out of existence.
“EVENING BREEZE!” Steve yelled at a zombie struggling to reach him. Purplish ribbons of energy shot from his fingertips. The attack traveled slowly, but thanks to the immobilizing pink mist, the zombie was unable to evade it. The energy bolts struck the zombie (un)dead-on, reducing it to a heap of purple dust.
Silence filled the room as the three magical heroines took in their first victory. Steve cast a worried glance at Chip, who hadn’t moved since being knocked over.
A few tense seconds later, Chip groaned and slowly got to his feet.
“I knew you guys could do this.” he grinned, dusting himself off. “Anyone want some Gatorade? We’ve got plenty more training to do, but I think you’ve earned yourselves a break.”
Meanwhile, in the Minato Ward…
Although he had only been in Tokyo for three months, he knew how to get where he wanted. His wrist-mounted GPS was an invaluable guide, but it only showed him the legal, safe routes. Sidewalks were for people with time to spare. He, however, often ended up squeezing through alleyways, vaulting over fences, and leaping across rooftops.
Amishiro Park was nearby. Resistance was likely; intel suggested as many as six hostile entities were present. When he emerged from the final alley, the sounds of chaos and destruction were abound. The park’s trees shuddered violently from the unseen struggle.
He gritted his teeth as he drew his side-handle batons out of their holsters. “If only you could see me now, Asami.” he muttered under his ragged breath.
Bemused 4
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Themes:
Permission:
In the near future, the real world is dying.
Every geek’s fantasy is coming true. Superheroes, dragons, spaceships, giant robots, zombies, scantily clad French maids…they have all become real. It is miraculous that civilization has not plunged into total chaos.
Steve begins to lose his temper, Chip begins to think of new names for the Sentori, and an evil prospector from a twisted alternate Old West begins to wreak havoc on Dirk's naughty magazine collection. Ha, gotcha on that last one! Although that's not too far-fetched at this point.
“Wait a second.” Steve said. “How do we transform back–to our ‘normal’ forms, I mean.” Before anyone could answer, Steve found himself declaring, “Super Sentori…SUNSET!”
Thankfully, there was no pop music as their clothing shifted back to their old jumpsuits.
“Wait a minute!” Dirk cried. “I think I’ve got it! Mike can shift us into Sentori form, and Steve can shift us back!” His face fell. “Only…that reminds me …”
“What is it?” Chip asked.
“Shouldn’t we get new names? We’re going to blow our cover real fast if we keep using our old ones. Besides, ‘Dirk’ doesn’t really fit me anymore.”
Chip rubbed his stubble-covered chin. “Good point. I’d been planning to alter your profiles later this week, but I’ll do it during the break instead. Come, let us replenish our electrolytes!”
As they followed Chip out of the training arena, Steve gave Dirk a vitriolic look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Dirk shrugged. “Hey, whistle while you work. Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-dooot!”
“Oh, you son of a …” Steve growled. Mike stopped walking and covered his face, trembling from what could have been silent sobs or stifled laughter.
“Beep, beep, beep!” Chip exclaimed as they entered a sparsely decorated break room. “My sensors are detecting some serious animosity here! C’mon, let’s act like a team! Lose the hate and chug some V-8! We don’t have any V-8 right now, though. Stuff makes my guts run like the mighty seas of Bloofaria…whatever the hell that place is.”
Mike and Dirk headed into room, eager for refreshments. Steve, however, stayed near the door. “Chip?” Steve said.
“If you check those cabinets over there, we have some energy bars. I think those should still be good.”
“Chip.” Steve repeated.
“They’re expired? Man, I’m gonna kick Paul’s ass. Bastard promised he’d restock.”
“Chip...”
“No matter. See that mini-fridge? There’s some drinks in there. Sorry, no alcohol for you two–in my book, you’re under 21. And stay away from anything in a Burger King cup–that shit’s mine.”
“CHIP! SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!”
The room was soon filled with wide eyes and silence.
“I need to talk with you for a moment.” Steve said. Chip hesitated a moment, then cautiously ambled over.
Steve glanced at Mike and Dirk, who politely turned their attention to imbibing large bottles of Snapple.
“This whole thing is fucked up.” Steve said.
Chip nodded. “Yeah. What’s the problem?”
“The problem? For God’s sake, isn’t it obvious?”
“Those boobs aren’t as fun as you’d thought they’d be, eh?”
“No!”
“What, is it already that time of the month? I heard that takes some getting used to.”
“Ew! Jesus, no!” Steve’s face was like a boiler about to explode. “I–…”
“You’re pissed off again about being turned into a chick.”
Steve smoldered a bit more, then gave a deep sigh. “No…well yes, but it’s not just that. It has to do with Dirk.”
Chip waited while Steve collected himself. “He doesn’t have too many people close to him.” Steve said. “But Mike and I…there’s a lot of people who’ll be worrying about us tonight. We had so many plans, and even if we do get back to normal, I don’t know how we’ll pick up the pieces. And Dirk, he just skips along like this is his dream come true!”
“You make it sound like he’s your sworn enemy. Like you’re a Klingon and he’s a tribble.”
“No, he’s my friend…I just think he can be a jackass at times.”
“Okay, so you don’t like jackasses. Why are talking to me about this?”
Steve sighed again. “What I really wanted to ask is this: do you know if Dirk was responsible for this?”
Chip cocked an eyebrow. “You think he dragged you into this on purpose?”
Steve turned his palm to the side and waved it repeatedly in front of his nose, as if he was fanning away some wretched stench. He had no idea what caused him to make the gesture, but ignored it for the moment. “No, no, no. He’d never do that….but I doubt we became anime-style girls just by coincidence. I’m wondering if maybe something in his subconscious triggered this.”
A few seconds passed before Chip responded. “From what I know, that’s not possible. A fanboy can’t force someone else into becoming an Upholder, knowingly or not. Are you sure it wasn’t your mind at fault? Maybe deep inside, you can’t get enough of ‘Tokyo Mew Mew’!”
“No! Save for an occasional Miyazaki film, Mike and I never liked any anime.”
Chip was deep in thought. “Well, you were kinda slow in that training round. So, you swear you know nothing about anime?”
“Nothing, except that some people have unhealthy attitudes towards it. In fact, Mike and I aren’t really fanboys of anything.”
“That’s…well, interesting.” Chip murmured. “Hey, I have to get to work on your profiles soon. Anything else you want to tell me?”
“Not really. Thanks for listening.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m your animal mascot!” Chip said jovially as he left the room.
Mike looked weary as he took a sip of juice. “That’s already getting pretty old.”
Steve said nothing as he sat down next to Mike and Dirk, his mind lost in thought.
Chip whistled on the way to his favorite room in the facility. He even preferred it to the rec room, which had a fuckin’ badass ping-pong table.
“But in my office, I can get away with downloading furry porn.” Chip thought as he eased into his swivel chair. His superiors put up with it, at least to the extent that Childs had never complained. Maybe Childs was also interested in--no, that was just ridiculous.
Childs had a very specific set of expectations from his employees, and as long as they met those expectations, they had a good deal of breathing room. Although he was a bit demanding about getting email updates. Recalling the conversation with Steve, Chip booted up his PC and opened the mail client.
-----------
SUBJECT: Code Epsilon Level One
Mr. Childs;
Steven Yale shared some interesting info with me recently: he claims that he and Michael Tanner were not involved in any fan communities prior to Incident M2. As per the Redundant Observation Procedures Protocol, I’ve filed this as a Code Epsilon Level One.
-Chip Gilligan
---------
After he sent the message, Chip felt like his head was chocolate orange being knocked apart. If there was one thing he’d had trouble adjusting to, it was bureaucracy. Bureaucracy was like waking up in a moldy pile of leaves. Bureaucracy was like funnel cake infested by evil termites. Bureaucracy was like finding out that your real name is “Ornithopter Higgins IV.”
“Which reminds me,” he thought. “Time for a little profile reconstruction.” This was always fun.
Opening a new internet browser window, he Googled:
common Japanese names
He looked through the results earnestly, only stopping to write down a good possibility.