The sound of shattering glass rang out in the deserted factory as a window on the roof broke. Sparkling fragments of the window and its frame plummeted to the floor as a rope fell with them. The rope twisted and spun as it fell, sending pieces of the shattered window every which way in the process. Around 2 feet from the ground, the rope stopped spinning and snapped taut, sending shockwaves through it as it settled into place. The glass and steel which had composed the broken window fell to the ground and broke into smaller pieces, creating a mine field of sorts beneath the rope.
Before the glass had even settled on the floor; a pair of boots was made visible through the newly-created opening. The rope jostled as a set of paws clutched it, the body and paws still not visible from inside the building as just the boots crested the edge of the hole. A grunt came from the muzzle of the creature who had grabbed the rope as his entire body shook and edged closer to the point at which gravity would propel him down the rope and out of the imminent danger the sniper had put him in. Another jerk and the entirety of his legs hung off the gap in the roof which he had made seconds before. He rolled over onto his back, the rope shaking through its entire length as he did this. One final jerk from his body and he swung into the building and began sliding down the rope. The high pitch scream of the rubber in his gloves sliding along the composite material in the rope reverberated throughout the warehouse, the glass settled beneath him creating a somewhat dangerous landing spot.
His descent came to a rapid end as he landed on the floor, the crunch and creak of glass and steel beneath his boots accentuating his arrival. His left paw had yet to even leave the rope as he un-holstered the one thing he trusted with his right paw: the hand cannon known as a Desert Eagle. Giving the room a quick 360 degree sweep, his left paw stated on the rope, ready to give it a tug and trigger the auto-ascending mechanism he had left on the roof. Seeing nothing, he stood erect and tugged the rope, sending it to the roof without him on it. He holstered his companion and stated walking towards the south end of the warehouse. The light from the moon, which was the only source of light in the warehouse, was quickly vacated by the creature as he did this.
A pair of bug-shaped green eyes lit up after the creature left the light. A faint light coming from the ‘goggles’ of sorts showed a muzzle and fangs, belonging to the stealthy beast currently skulking through the building. After a few long strides, he scaled a ladder which was not visible to the naked eye in the pitch-black murk of the structure, the glowing green the only hint of both this and his location. Once at the top of the ladder, he dashed across tan invisible platform several feet in the air above the floor, the bouncing trail of green light behind him indicating his speed, the light tapping from his boots on the steel beneath his boots further conveying this.
After he stopped his quick sprint, a click and low hum echoed throughout the building. Flood lights whirred to life above the now-illuminated control room as the creature removed his now-useless goggles. The light filled the giant room with a bright-white glow, displaying the armaments and vehicles contained in the room below.
The creature, which could now be seen as a panther, surveyed the room with a small smirk on his muzzle. The feline was tall and clad in military fatigues, albeit the light combat ones usually seen on Florida S.W.A.T. His black fur glistened in the fluorescent light of the control room, covering his sleeveless arms with a faint sheen. His yellow eyes had already adjusted to the bright room, pupils’ small on the yellow spheres in his eye sockets, which rested on either side of his short muzzle. Pearly-white fangs stuck out of either side of this muzzle, hanging down out of soft and furry lips. The wet nose at the end of this short muzzle was pierced with a large silver hoop, much like the one on a bull’s nose. His pointed ears at the top of his head were also pierced, two studs at the top of each ear. A mic and earplug ran down the side of his furry face, allowing him to listen to the radio he had stolen from one of the many dead agents he had left outside.
His lightly-muscled frame stood in the doorway of the control room, perched on the right side of the building. He leapt from the railed walkway once he had left said control room, landing with a muffled thud on the cement floor nearly a story below. He immediately strode over to the weapons case as soon as he stood back up and threw it open. The steel door clanged and rattled as it struck the metallic wall the rack hung on. Reaching a gloved paw in, he gripped the most lethal weapon in the rack: an M60E4 SAW weapon. He reached in and pulled a few boxes of ammo from the case, knowing full well he would need more than the 250 rounds of 5.56 ammo the gun came with if he got into a firefight.
Once he had grabbed the ammo for his SAW and stuffed it into the carious pockets on his vest and pants beg enough to contain the 15-pound boxes of copper-alloy casings, gunpowder, and steel bullet heads, he went looking for another weapon. A small but noticeable twinkle entered his perusing eyes as the settled on a pair of Uzis and a spinal loader. He reached for the entire apparatus, which latched around his vest and not only had a holster for both guns, but fit him quite comfortably as well.
As he clicked the harness shut and began to adjust it, chatter came through the small plastic piece mounted in his ear. He understood a few Kajin words from the crash course he had gotten just before being deployed, but it clearly wasn’t enough as all the gibberish save for ‘intruder’ and ‘attack’ went right over his head. That tidbit of information was all he needed however, and he immediately kicked his preparations into overdrive. As he holstered both Uzis and retrieved his M60 from the floor which he had placed it on, he paused to smirk at his bad-ass looks in the reflection off a silver tank beside him. His height of 6’6” and trim, muscular built, as well as the piercings and fatigues gave him the look, the guns only accentuating it.
The loud tats of gunfire snapped him from his revelry and jarred him back into reality and his rapidly-escalating predicament. He sprinted over to his prize and the very reason he was here: a customized Humvee with fully-autonomous defenses, bullet-reactive armor, and heated leather seats. The gunfire was only getting louder and closer; the vehicle which contained the mini-gun they used to tear their facilities apart was working its way over to him. This fact only made him rush more to get the huge war-machine started and out of the building before it was destroyed with him in it. Placing a thumb he had received from a high-ranking he had shot not 20 minutes earlier in the print-reading starter, the vehicle roared to life. The growl of the V-12 diesel engine echoed throughout the whole building as he revved the beast, waiting for the systems to boot up so he could drive off. He placed his M60 in the gun rack where a passenger seat should be, the proceeded to shift the behemoth truck into gear and floor the gas. The engine roared again, the tires screaming and kicking up smoke as they struggled to find traction on the cement floor beneath them. As the panther eased off the throttle, all 4 tires found grip, and the panther was propelled forward in the truck at an ever-increasing speed. Boxes of ammunition and equipment flew everywhere as they were tossed aside by the Hummer’s titanium-alloy plow.
Outside the warehouse, the dulled roar of the truck could be heard, but only by those with acute hearing as orders bellowed in Kajin and the constant gunfire all but drowned it out. This cycle of screaming and ‘tat-tatting’ was broken by the ear-splitting screech of metal grinding and tearing against metal and stunned more than a few soldiers. Hardly aware of what the sound was or even what was making it, the sight of a war-ready Humvee bursting through a metal building only added to the shock. Sparks rained down around the shards of shrapnel which flow out of the ten-foot wide hole which had been blown in the warehouse by the truck as it began speeding away. The half-second of shock wore off near-instantaneously for most, and once it did guns were un-holstered, shouldered, aimed, and fired at the ‘sparking monster’ of sorts.
Muzzle flashes and sparks bouncing off the careening vehicle lit up the empty airstrip and were the only sources of light in the area. There would have been searchlights following the escaping vehicle, but the assailant was an extremely proficient sniper. The roar of engines and echoes of gunfire ensured silence was another thing the airstrip didn’t have. Nothing but the fence which the panther was gunning for held any meaning to him however, not the 20 plus soldiers he had crushed with his vehicle, nor the rockers being launched at him and impacting all around his fleeing truck. One rocket which the panther had been so effortlessly dodging found its mark however, exploding on the left side of the hummer. The flaming hunk of shredded metal went flying through the air, tumbling and bouncing along the ground before finally coming to rest on its roof several hundred feet from where it began tumbling.
The words ‘Game Over’ suddenly began flashing across the panting, defeated panther’s field of vision as the surrounding smoke and bloodied roof of the car began to fade into blackness. Lists of text began to stream across the darkness which had become his entire field of vision, listing all the information and analysis of tactics used in the Panther’s performance. A giant letter ‘B’, colored blood red, flickered into view, and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared. A sharp twinge of pain was felt all down the creature’s spine as woozy, dazed feelings overcame his consciousness.
“Not half bad there dude.” A deep, booming voice came from the right of the slightly sick panther, who slowly opened his pair of straining eyes. Through slits of eyelids, all he saw was the textured white ceiling. He brought a chubby paw up to his face and covered it nearly entirely with said paw, sighing heavily as his weight began to set back in and the feeling of reality returned to being all too real.
“Wish you wouldn’t have turned it off so soon, let me step down ya know? I feel like shit now,” he sighed again and sat up in the kinetichair. His legs spread to accommodate the expansive gut on the front of his frame as he opened his eyes fully and crossed his arms on the top of his stomach apron. Looking at the television across from him with a slight twinge of pain, the wreck on the screen reminding him how much getting blown up like that stung. His gaze shifted from the T.V. to the equally-obese, if not more so, alligator, sitting on the couch beside the kinetichair. His legs were also splayed to make room for the giant sack of adipose covered in scales in front of him. “Pretty damn big explosion, huh Jawo?”
“Yeah it was dude. You were dodgin’ and weavin’ around them rockets, what happened to ya?”
“Lag, you know the new card in this thing is absolutely shit till you cool it right. When’s the new cooler comin’ in?” The behemoth gator shrugged and smiled, his rows of pearly whites showing beneath chubby cheeks and wobbly jowls. The panther stood and stretched, a loud and heavy sigh coming from him as he did so. He then sunk down into the sofa beside Jawo after taking a couple short steps to be able to sit. The pair filled the couch and were rubbing greatly against one another because of their excess weight, but quickly separated as Jawo got up. Standing with a loud groan, he shuffled over to the kinetichair to take his turn at ‘Fight and Flight’.
The incredibly fat reptile sat on the XXX-X-L chair at the base of the spinal tapper in the kinetichair and still rolled over either side of the armless chair. He struggled with the extremely tight tent-sized tank top he was stuffed into with little success. He needed to remove it in order to give the tapper access to his back, but was simply too fat and lazy to do it. The panther saw this and began laughing a deep, guttural laugh. Jawo snarled lightly then shrugged again, placing his arms at his approximate sides to show he had given up the losing battle with his wife-beater.
“Hey Jenk, lend me a paw with this thing, would ya?” The panther laughed again and hefted himself to his feet lazily, looking over at the gator with a smirk.
“Fuckin’ fatso, can’t even get yer damn shirt off without my help…”
“Hey, screw you, you aren’t exactly the skinniest mofo in the world either Jenk.” The panther laughed out loud, giving a nod to the fat reptile in agreement. He was standing in front of Jawo at this point, and used a pudgy, fuzzy paw to lift the front of Jawo’s shirt into the gator’s reaching zone. Jenk had to stand sideways in front of Jawo as he did this however, as both furs couldn’t reach the front of their stomachs without cheating. The maneuver required effort on both creatures parts, as Jenk could hardly bend over thanks to the bounty of blubber rubbing his knees. This made the gator have to lean back in order to get the bottom of his shirt within reaching distance for Jenk. “Thanks dude, this gut,” he grabbed the sides of his paunch and gave it a shake, “tends to get in the way.”
“Think mine doesn’t? I’m just not dumb enough to wear a shirt.” The panther hefted his own gut up in his arms and squished it lightly as he chuckled quietly. The gator laughed too, finally able to heave his shirt off his flabulous frame, leaving the hundreds of pounds of rolls, folds, and overhanging paunch out for the world to see. The panther mrrrowled under his breath and pushed his own stomach against Jawo’s. A contented growl escaped the obese reptile’s lips as over a half-ton of over-indulgence met and smooshed into a ball of lard.
“Like whatcha see, eh kitty?”
“Who wouldn’t fatass?” The both laughed for a moment before they separated, and Jenk moved to the side of the gator who dwarfed the chair he was sitting in. The pair of obese beasts grabbed paws, the multitude of muscles in Jenk’s arms helping Jao lean back onto the spinal tapper part of the kinetichair. The rolls of fat at the bottom of the alligator’s back were the first thing to hit the contoured arc of the tapper, which were quickly flattened into a taut, thick line of flesh as more and more of the creature’s weight bore down on the metallic curvature.
By the time the gator’s head rested on the soft cushion at the top of the long, curved piece of plastic-coated steel, his stomach was high in the air. All that weight being sucked down all around him by gravity’s unrelenting force, it made him look wider than he was tall. Jenk adjusted the cushion for Jawo’s slightly-taller head to make the relaxing creature more comfortable. Jenk then waddled around to the front of the machine once Jawo looked comfortable, stepping on the start-up button or the machine now that Jawo was in position. The image of the wreck Jenk had been in just a couple minutes prior blinked out and the vitals of Jawo popped up on the screen. The sensors in the seat and tapper reat these vitals, including heart rate, weight, blood pressure, breathing, and several others. Weight was the only one which was flashing red, indictating there was a problem with it in the machine’s eyes.
“Machine says you’re too damn fat Jawo.”
“Eh, fuck it, I am not too fat just yet, just hit the override and let me start killin.” The panther chortled and nodded, stomping on the start-up button twice quickly, which told the machine to ignore the alert and start tapping Jawo’s spine.
“Don’t get fucked.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Jawo chuckled as he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable pain. His arms came to rest on a pair of customized armrests; the pair’s work didn’t want to splurge to upgrade the size of the kinetichair just for them. A low whirr came from the machine beneath the obese gator’s posterior, and the beast prepared to be tapped. Jenk had waddled to the couch by then and sat there, watching Jawo clench his fists and grit his teeth in preparation. The panther was idly munching on some chips through all this, not the least bit fazed by the increased whirring or the spine-like contraption winding up the back-supporter beneath Jawo. Several needles stuck inches out from this device at angles, indicating where they were going; into Jawo’s nervous system.
Once the metallic snake of sorts had fully uncoiled beneath the immense reptile, the whirring stopped. Loud clicks began as each needle was inserted into the corresponding holes in the reptile’s back; being needlessly stabbed for a game was something neither creature wanted. The needles didn’t faze Jawo in the slightest, and the minute metal inserts continued going into the fat gator’s body with ease. The final, huge needle which plugged into the base of Jawo’s brain made the gator wince with pain. It slowly slit into its designated slot in the beast’s head, the low hum of the tiny actuator pushing it in reaching Jenk’s ears and making him cringe in knowing how painful that was.
As soon as the “needle” was completely in Jawo’s brain, the television flashed and clicked on, coming to life with a giant number three on the screen. A second passed, and the number two popped up in its stead, with the number one coming up a second after that. The countdown was ended with the word ‘Kill’ in glaring red letters flashing on the screen, simulated blood running down the word as the screen faded in to the same airfield Jenk had been attacking minutes before. Two major differences were present in this scene from when Jenk had been playing however; Jawo had not entered the airfield yet, and a hulk of an alligator was what the screen followed rather than a lean panther. The distant chatter, in Kajin, and the faint sounds of nature from the woods surrounding the airfield emanated from the several speakers around the room designed ti immerse the watcher.
The sudden green hue which covered the screen indicated the muscular reptile on the television had gotten down to business. He pulled the rifle which he had held at his side up to his right eye, causing the screen to zoom in as well. Around two-thirds of the screen turned black, the remaining portion changing into a circle with crosshairs; it showed what Jawo saw as he sniped. The image on the crosshair blurred as the rifle was positioned to take out the first planned target; one of the four guard towers. Three dulled pops later, and the guard tower which had been so hastily sighted was devoid of any life.
As Jawo swept from tower to tower, killing the guards in each of them, Jenk finished off his second bag of chips. He sometimes wondered why he had allowed himself to become such a slob, and a blatantly obese one at that. One look at the slightly-twitching, sluggishly-jiggling gator in the kinetichair remind him however, and removed all doubts from his mind. The pair was hopelessly in love with both each other, and their ever-expanding waistlines. Being so grossly overweight has such a lure for both of them, and made them always hunting for more ways to reach immobility. Their immense appetites and sedentary lifestyles compliment this ‘fetish’ of sorts, and gave them an excuse to be so fat.
The lack of pops from the surround sound system around him yanked Jenk from his thoughts and back to bug analysis for Jawo as he played through the level. As he reached for the third bad og chips, he spotted a small textural bug in a lead as Jawo sprinted by on his way to the facility. Claws sliding from Jenk’s fat digits, he typed the area of the error and a few other details into the error long on the table. A distinct lack of entries from earlier showed just how much attention his immense partner had paid to the game, and thusly made Jenk sigh.
Jawo had reached the airfield at this point, and apparently learned from Jenk’s mistakes in his raid. He was placing C3 charges on the duel tanks outside the barrack buildings; something Jenk had neglected to do. Each charge had a remote detonator and a massive explosive yield; a bug which had yet to be fixed in Jenk’s mind. The hulking reptile on screen made sure to use care as he placed the first of four charges, as he too knewo this. He stealthily, as stealthily as a beast his side could that is, worked his way over to the second troop housing. Ducking and weaving between crates and cehicles which provided ample cover for the creature, he moved more like a snake than an alligator to his target.
It took nearly five minutes to cover the fifty feet between the two buildings; guard patrols kept coming dangerously close to Jawo’s hiding places and his subsequent capture. He dug a second charge out of his bag and moved to place it on the fuelt tank behind the second guard barracks. A low snarl behind him made him freeze however, and caused his twitching, quaking body lyin in the kinetichair to cease all movement. The cold, hard muzzle of a gun stuck itself to the back of Jawo’s neck, and orders were barked at him in Kajin.