FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter One

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

The alarm clock went off at 6:00 A.M., bringing in a new day. After a hectic night of trying to sleep, Mickey, a red fox, was able to drift off to sleep close to four in the morning. Those were the best two hours, of sleep, a fur ever gotten. However, if Mickey doesn't get enough sleep, he gets a little--if not a lot--cranky.

"Urgh!" grunted the fox. "I have got to stop drinking sodas so late at night . . ." He then got out of bed, dressed in navy blue boxer shorts, and went on his way to the bathroom, to take a shower, so that he can wake up. "Maybe a nice, hot shower will do the trick."

Getting into the shower, the fox pulls off his boxers, throwing them to the bathroom floor. Pulling the shower curtain to the side, the fox can bask in the glory of nudity, as he takes his shower, only to be re-clothed afterwards. And now that Mickey was naked, he can check his body out, something that he does privately.

Mickey was 6'1", with long, ash-blonde hair that went down to his shoulders. He had a perfect proportioned body, which he was proud of, so much that he thanks his parents for making him like this. Only his chest, pecs, belly, six-pack, the inner sides of his legs, and the tip of his tail were white, while the rest of his body was red, with the exception of his arms, legs and paws, and the tips of his ears which were brown. His crisp blue eyes was like swimming in the Caribbean, but what complete his "sexiness" was his pecs, six pack, and muscles. Yes, the fox was muscular. He makes sure that he works out to maintain good health. And being gay and single, he wants to make sure that he'll be alive for the time he gets a mate. But his pecs are what attracts other gay furs. Of course, his six-pack can do the trick, but there's something about Mickey's pecs that makes him get the attention of other males. In other words, even though Mickey isn't considered a nudist, he goes shirtless. He had the body for it.

Turning on the water, the fox waited until it turned lukewarm, his preferred water temperature, and he allowed it to soak over his fur. He got lost in the warmth of the water, as he picked up his loofah and poured body wash all over it. Mickey soon rubbed the loofah all over his body, smearing body wash, cleansing his naked body. He thoroughly cleansed his body, making sure he washes over his sheath, sac, toes, and paw pads, as well as his tailhole. What he learned, when he was a young kit, was this: "Make sure you thoroughly wash your body, and get rid of those germs." When he was eighteen, he learned that it included the sheath and sac, to wash them before and after sex. So now the fox was twenty-six, going on twenty-seven, showering, getting ready for the day, as he relaxed in the tub. Once he was fully awake, and clean, Mickey turned the water off, got out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist. He left the bathroom dripping wet, but he couldn't care less. Now came the next thing on the fox's morning agenda: Breakfast.

"Okay . . . what can I have for breakfast?" Mickey asked, particularly to himself, going through many different cabinets. He already done his weekly shopping, and his cabinets were chock full of groceries, from cereals to those breakfast snacks. Mickey also purchased cereal bars but those are necessarily snacks. "Come on, there's gotta be something I can eat."

Mickey wasn't that hungry to begin with. But breakfast is breakfast. Ultimately, he decided on the toaster pastries. So he got a packet of toaster pastries, strawberry, and tore the wrapper open. He then began nomming them up. He preferred to eat untoasted toaster pastries because he "didn't have the time to heat them." To the fox, waiting for the toaster is like watching a snail run a marathon. Laziness. It's an imaginative, self-diagnosable disease that is not considered a disease. After finishing up the two toaster pastries, Mickey rubbed his belly and said, "Damn, I love strawberry toaster pastries."

Of all the stuff Mickey buys, junk food and sodas, he still manages to stay in shape. Thank the gym for that. If he didn't work out, as the months go by, Mickey would be one pudgy fox.

Mickey unwrapped the towel from his waist and threw it in the dirty clothes pile, in the laundry room, and got another towel and placed it in the bathroom. He then walked back to his bedroom to change. It didn't take him long as he sported a blue polo shirt and navy blue jeans that goes down to his knees. It signifies his favorite color.

"I'm all dressed up and ready to go." said Mickey, smiling. He loves to be active, rather than to sit at home like a hermit. He learned, a long time ago, that excessive sitting, and not being active, can cause blood clots to form. That is his main fear: to have a life threatening condition. And that explains why he strives to maintain a healthy lifestyle. Of course, fast food in moderation won't necessarily hurt him.

So the time, on Mickey's digital watch, read 6:30 A.M. The perfect time for a morning jog came, like it does every morning. The sky was still dark, and clear, when he exited his home, locking the door behind him. It was quiet, and it was like Mickey was the only animal left on Earth. This is paradise for introverts. It didn't matter where Mickey goes, as long he gets his exercise. So the fox went on his merry way, jogging South, whilst the rest of the community was sound asleep, except for the furs who have jobs who are awake but not outside.

"I just know that this will be a good day." said the fox, as he ran at medium speed, his footpaws taking him wherever they went. "The forecast says that we're going to have clear weather today, so that means something, right? And I love my life. I found my calling, to be an artist. Sure I have wads of cash in my bank account, but I couldn't care less about that. But I should stop by the bank later today."

It was true. Mickey is filthy, stinking rich. He came from a well-endowed family, arriving in the spring of 1989. His birth date, May 16th, is an important one to remember. It was the day that Jake Munroe, a racer, won the Furtropolis 700--a yearly racing event. His mother and father struck oil, and interestingly enough gold, in October, and that changed their lives forever. They invest, check their stocks, doing whatever they needed to do to keep their money coming. When Mickey was growing up, boy was he spoiled. Instead of getting a toy train for his 5th birthday, they got him an actual train!

And on his seventeenth birthday, Mickey got an island named after him--The Island of Mick. The island was the last special gift he wanted, for he requested his parents to build their money up, rather than to spend it all on luxurious gifts. But their visits to their summer homes is exquisite. Mickey could only handle that. And since he has enough money in the bank, it was common that he didn't have to work, but he wanted to because it teaches him the value of a dollar. His parents didn't want Mickey to work, since he basically had everything, but it was his choice to work. So he applied to many places, and he was eventually hired at Solace, an art studio, located in the northwest part of his vicinity, Ocean Springs.

As Mickey thought about his past life, he said, "I'm only happy that my parents weren't those type of furs who waste their money in one day. Investing is number one, and it'll show, for certain, that our stocks will be forever high"

A nearby voice, saying, "Who are you talking to?" caught Mickey off-guard.

Mickey stopped in his tracks and immediately turned around, forming a faux-karate pose by moving his arms parallel in front of his face, and lifting up his right leg. "W-who goes t-there?" the fox asked, timidly.

Right in front of the fox was a bobcat, a female one to be exact. Mickey's height, the bobcat was dressed in a grey sweatshirt, with matching sweat pants. "Did you hear me, sir?" She didn't think Mickey heard her. "Who are you talking to?" she repeated. The bobcat wanted to know, as it appeared that Mickey was talking to himself.

Mickey relaxed, laid his arms to his side, standing on his tippy toes, stretching his limbs out. "Oh, I'm just taking my morning jog. I thought I was alone, but then I ran into you or you ran into me." he said, scratching the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "So are you a morning fur?"

The bobcat yawned, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Yes. Why? Are you a morning fur too?"

Mickey nods. "Sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not. I'm not when I am unable to get a good night's sleep." he said. "It all depends, you know?"

The bobcat nodded her head, understanding what the fox was saying.

"So I take a morning jog to wake up my muscles," Mickey said, flexing his body in front of the bobcat. "To get my adrenaline pumping, through my body, is an important part of my morning routine. Without it, I'll become a hermit, and I don't want to become a sloth."

"They say that sloth is one of seven deadly sins," the bobcat said, "I find the seven deadly sins interesting, too. Gluttony, lust, envy, greed, wrath. I don't get pride though. Isn't pride a good thing?" she asked.

"Actually, pride is over exaggerating one's abilities." Mickey said, explaining the sin of Pride to the bobcat. "Prideful furs tend to think they are much better than others, such as if they win the lottery or a new car, and they're high and mighty about it, ordering others to grovel at their footpaws. And in the end, it's the prideful furs that get bitten in the ass."

"How?" the bobcat asked.

"They lose the most important thing: friendship."

The bobcat only nodded. But then, she gasped, saying, "Oh! We just gotten caught up with this conversation, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Amaya. Amaya Blackburn."

"Nice to meet you Amaya," Mickey smiled, "my name is Mickey. Mickey Dylan Prescott."

"So Mickey, can you tell me a bit about yourself?" Amaya asked.

"Oh boy. Where should I start?" Mickey chuckled, silently. "I guess I could start with this fact right here. I come from a well-endowed family, so therefore, I'm rich." he said. "In October, when I was five months old, my parents struck oil and gold, and my life changed forever."

"Man, talk about luck!" exclaimed Amaya. "Do you live in a huge mansion? Do you have your own private swimming pool? Do you have a butler, hired to cater to your every whim? Do you have a limousine? May I ride in your limousine? Do you have your own private island?" The bobcat began rambling on and on and on and on.

Mickey felt flattered that Amaya was asking too many questions about his rich lifestyle. Truth be told, he lives a normal lifestyle, just like any other citizen, than the stereotypical rich and famous. Indeed, he has a crap ton of money but he prefers, to be treated, the same. "Actually, Amaya, I only have an island of my own, the Island of Mick." he said, straightening out his shirt. "You see, even though I have lots of money in my bank account, I'm not telling how much, I want to be treated like a regular-class citizen. I don't want special treatment, because I don't want to be taken advantage." He then placed his right handpaw to his chest. "To be completely honest, I would give all my money away, to local charities."

"So what you're saying is that even though you were grew up in a rich family, you don't like the rich lifestyle?" asked Amaya. She was becoming interested in the fox, like she wanted to learn everything about him.

Mickey nodded. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm trying to say."

"What else can you tell about yourself?" the bobcat asked, smiling. She dug her handpaws into the pockets of her sweat pants. "You must have some fears? Some likes and dislikes? Fetishes?"

"It just so happens, I do have some fears." Mickey replied, taking a deep breath. "My biggest fear isn't death, I could easily embrace it, but contracting a life-threatening disease. You know, cancer, AIDS, cholera? My likes include long walks on the beach, of course, playing mindless video games, carnival rides, roller-coasters, partying, and cute guys." The fox blushed a deep red, melting internally, when he mentioned cute guys.

Amaya noticed Mickey blushing. She proceeded to ask, "Mickey, why are you blushing?" Then it all made sense to her. "Are you gay, Mickey? You blushed when you said 'cute guys', so you must be gay. Don't worry, if you are gay I'll accept your lifestyle. To make this more comfortable, I'll reveal my sexual orientation. I am bisexual, though my sister is straight. She tolerates homosexuals and the rest of the LGBTQ community."

Mickey smiled, for it was more comfortable to come out of the closet. He and Amaya haven't known each other for a day, and already Mickey is getting ready to reveal to her that he is gay. There was no need for semblance in this reality, at least not now. So Mickey looked directly in the bobcat's eyes, proceeding to tell her the truth, and said, "There's no sense to hide this fact, but yes I'm gay. But I'm currently single, but looking."

"I wish I could help, but I only have my sister. I don't have any brothers, and my male cousins are already married, some of them are gay, too." Amaya said, smiling, happily accepting the fact that her new friend was gay. "Sorry." she added, looking down.

"Hey," Mickey said, using two of his fingers to lift Amaya's head. "Listen, don't be sad about that. I'm not meant to become mates with one of your family members. I'll find someone that I'll cherish forever. But when I'm in dire emergency, I'll give you a call." he said.

"Sweet! Do you have a mobile phone?" Amaya asked, already perked up. Mickey reached in his pocket and pulled out his hi-tech, fancy, cell phone. He then gave it to the bobcat. "Here," she said, punching in her phone number. "Whenever you need me, give me a call." The bobcat then gave Mickey his cell phone back. "Feel free to call me whenever you want to talk with me, just don't invite me to any big gatherings. Big groups give me the hives." she said, blushing deep.

"Cool. I have a friend who's introverted!" grinned Mickey, treating Amaya's "introvertness" like it's a good thing. "Don't worry, it's cool. A lot of furs have problems socializing. I'm the type that loves to have a good time with friends, and you're the type that prefers to be alone." he said. "There's nothing wrong with being introverted."

Amaya narrowed her eyes at the fox, but smiled nonetheless. "Yeah, you're right, Mickey. My introverted personality makes me special, unique." she said. "But I'm okay with small groups. Big events, like nightclub events, scare me. I'm afraid that if I do something embarrassing, I'd be branded for life. Something like, stuttering my words, tripping over stuff, and the infamous ripping of the pants."

Mickey placed his handpaws on Amaya's shoulders and calmly said, "You shouldn't worry about things that scare you all the time. Instead, you should work on overcoming your fear, even if it takes forever."

"That's another thing . . . I also have a fear of public speaking." Amaya chuckled nervously, brushing one leg against the other, as she said that. "I know, that I need to overcome that, but the thought of overcoming something so scary . . . is just nerve-wracking. Can you believe that? Someone who is talkative, like myself, is afraid of public speaking. Man, talking about irony."

Mickey chuckled, taking a liking to Amaya already. "Okay, Amaya, I like you already. Let's hang together this morning. I don't have to report to work until noon, so let's spend the morning together, doing whatever that comes to mind."

Amaya smiled. She too took a liking to the fox, even though both of them are in the friend zone, but both the fox and the bobcat couldn't care less. "That would actually be nice, Mickey." she smiled. "Thanks for the offer. Maybe we could get some breakfast. I haven't had breakfast, and it's pushing to seven in the morning."

"Cool. All I had were toaster pastries." Mickey replied. "Of course, it's not a filling breakfast, but it's something. What place do you have in mind?"

"Mmmm . . . maybe a diner?" asked Amaya. "Do you have a debit or credit card that is linked to your bank account?"

"Are you expecting me to pay for our breakfast?" Mickey raised an eyebrow, placing his handpaws on his hips. "Because if you are, I will. It's on me." The fox then pulled out his wallet, showing the bobcat his debit card. "This baby has helped me in emergencies, and I never once misused it."

"You're also responsible with your things! I like you already!" Amaya smiled. Of course Mickey was responsible, he had everything he wanted when he was a young kit. And of course his parents are still supporting him. Being rich has its responsibilities. "Afterwards, we could go to the mall and watch a movie." Since Mickey was the one with the money, it was his choice, but he thought it wasn't a good idea to waste it on insignificant things--besides breakfast.

"We can have fun, but I cannot spend too much," Mickey replied, placing his wallet back in his pants pocket. "I don't want the bank to freeze my account. They could do that with debit and credit cards. I won't get in trouble with my parents, because they could easily pay my tab, but the thought of having my money frozen is terrifying, like you talking in a big crowd center stage."

Amaya gulped in fear, thinking about public speaking, especially in front of a crowd of fifteen thousand furs. "So . . . we better get something to eat now, huh?" The truth was that she wanted to get the thought of public speaking out of her mind. "Which car are we taking? Yours or mine, because I have a driver's license." Amaya then asked the fox.

"With all due respect, I was right in the middle of my morning jog. So I need to resume that. You're welcome to tag along, too." answered Mickey. "I always take a mini fun run in the morning."

"Yeah . . . I know. I've seen you run past my house every morning, before I go to work." Amaya smirked to the fox. "No wonder you're able to look good in a swimsuit, being all shirtless. The guys must be on your tail at all times, huh?"

Mickey blushed, deep, red as crimson blood. "Come with me, jog with me, while we talk."

The brown furred, whiskered face, with black tufts on her ears, bobcat, with black spots and streaks on her body, but covered in clothing, said to Mickey, "We could just take my car. It's a lot quicker that way." She knew that the fox preferred to jog, though. So she knew what Mickey was going to say. But before Mickey could reply, Amaya jogged right past him. Two furs being active, and it's not even eight yet. "Or we could do what you want, and jog." She turned her head, facing Mickey, and stuck out her tongue at the fox. But she wasn't looking where she was going, as the honk of a car made Amaya jump. She crossed the intersection at a green light, and nearly got hit by a vehicle going at fast speed. "Waaaaaaaah!" she cried, jumping out of the way in the nick of time.

"Amaya!" shouted Mickey, "please watch where you're walking next time! You almost gotten killed!" And the fox was right. Judging by the speed the car was going, had it struck Amaya she would've been killed instantaneously. But she wasn't, so that's good. Right? Mickey rushed over to the bobcat, pulling her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "For the love of all things special, look both ways when you cross the street, okay?!"

Amaya pulled herself away from Mickey, turning herself away from the fox. The green light soon turned red, and she crosses, when it was safe to cross, with Mickey jogging in suit. She wagged her short tail as she soon stopped in her tracks. "Okay, there's gotta be a diner nearby, Mickey." she said, overlooking her current location. Right now, the fox and the bobcat are at the intersection of Elmwood Street and Charleston Avenue. The nearest stores, in front of them, not far from them, were the 99 cent store, a frozen yogurt creamery, and a store that fixes and sells computers and other electronics. "OH! Mickey! We should totes hit the creamery shop after breakfast!" Amaya was one of those furs who says "totes" instead of "totally." Has she even heard of tote bags? "What is your favorite flavor of frozen yogurt? Mine is a tie between watermelon and cotton candy." she asked the fox, turning over to face him. "And before you ask, yes they make cotton candy flavored fro yo."

Man Amaya sure is talkative. Mickey thought. And yet . . . she has a fear of speaking in public. Maybe she could imagine the crowd in their underwear, or better yet naked. But then again, there are youngsters in the audience, so best stick to imagining everyone in their underwear, especially on TV. Did I leave the curling iron on? I wonder what I look like in a sequined, red dress. Oh crap. Am I really imagining myself dressed up like a girl?

The bobcat snapped her fingers, in front of Mickey, breaking the fox from his personal thoughts. Good thing Amaya cannot read minds, especially what he thought about dressing up in a dress. "The answer is sixteen thousand two-hundred fifty-one!" Mickey blurted. He then shook his head, coming back to reality. "What? Where am I?" he asked. "Did you say something, Amaya?"

"You're at the corner of Elmwood and Charleston. And yes, I did ask you a question. I asked what is your favorite yogurt flavor." Amaya said, sticking a tongue out at Mickey.

"Oh, right," Mickey blushed. "I'll say that my favorite has to be mint chocolate chip yogurt. It's so creamy and tasty, not to mention that I grew up with it as a kit."

Amaya squealed. "OH! THAT'S MY SECOND FAVORITE FLAVOR!" she shouted. "That's a thing we have in common!"

Mickey said, "We have a thing in common now? Gee, I didn't know."

The bobcat narrowed her eyes. "Are you being sarcastic with me, Mickey?" she asked. "Because if you are, you better stop it! Cause if it's one thing I hate the most is sarcasm. So knock it off."

"I don't know. Am I?" Mickey replied, his face turning into a grin. "You know, sarcasm's fun, once in a while, Amaya. Learn to tolerate it." The fox then brushed his tail against Amaya's hips, and a sly expression plastered on his face. "In life, there aren't any plausible ways to avoid sarcasm." he said.

"All right. Let me ask you this, then." Amaya replied, grabbing Mickey's tail, holding onto it with a firm grip. "Do you know that I have been failing figuring out sarcastic remarks? For all I know, sarcasm sucks, and I'd appreciate it if you tone down the sarcasm, Dr. Sarcastic! And let me in on another thing. There is a plausible way to avoid sarcasm, and do you know what it is? It's called walking away!"

"Two things. One, your parents may be sarcastic at times, and two, LET GO OF MY TAIL!" Mickey replied, and then yanked his tail free from Amaya's grip, growling. "I don't like it when furs grab my tail! What if I was walking when you grabbed my tail? I would have lost my footing and face-planted to the floor!" he said, and then scoffed. "Great, now I need to brush my tail. Why couldn't you grab my arm instead?"

"It was the only part of your body I could grab at the time." sighed Amaya, but decided to drop the entire conversation and walked away from Mickey. "Come on, let's just forget this ever happened and let's get some breakfast. I'm starving." she said. Mickey soon followed behind, running up to the bobcat in order to catch up to her.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the sarcastic, yet witty, remark back there." the fox said, apologizing. "But it's easy to pinpoint sarcasm. It's when furs say something they don't mean. It's basically used tauntingly. For example, if somefur messes up big time, and I say, 'Wow, you've accumulated twenty fuck-ups. You are something special. You're number one', then I'm being sarcastic. Do you understand now?"

"You know everything, Mickey." Amaya smirked, flicking her short tail. "You should write a book about your knowledge. It will become a bestseller." She then flashed a grin at the fox. "Or maybe you'll be on one of those talk shows. You'll become famous."

Mickey chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with his right handpaw. "It looks like you grasped the concept of sarcasm, and it's not even mid-morning."

It was 7:15 A.M. It was just the time to not keel over in hunger. The fox and the bobcat walked two blocks, coming to the diner. But to their most utter surprise, they find that the diner doesn't open for another two hours, so much for scrambled eggs and bacon. "Damn it, what are we going do about breakfast now, Mickey?" cried Amaya, kneeling onto the floor in despair and anguish. "It's just not fair! Restaurants should open at 6:00 in the morning, not fucking 9:00! Oh, fuck this! I'm really fucking pissed off now. What the fucking hell, and son of a bitch! Don't they, and I mean restaurants, care about us, the patrons? If they do, they don't have to force us to get through this shit."

"Language Amaya." Mickey grumbled, gently slapping the bobcat's shoulder. "I didn't know you were a potty mouth. Tell me, do you get likes with that type of mouth? Is one of your family members a sailor?" he said.

The fox then added, "Ummm, maybe I should wash your maw out with soap."

Amaya sighed in reply. "Mickey, just shut the hell up. No, actually shut the fuck up!"

"You won't get anywhere in life as a potty mouth who swears a lot," Mickey rolled his eyes at the bobcat. "Imagine, you're applying for a job at a pastry shop. You're going through the interview when you jam your finger on the manager's desk. You blurt out the S word, the F word, the GD word, the D word, the C word, the B word, and the M word. And then the manager rips up your application and says, 'This is a place of business. We have no positions for potty mouths like you. Your application is denied. You're welcome to try again next week, though.' And then that particular manager phones other managers, and you'll get a reputation of being a potty mouth, and getting yourself a job would be scarce for you."

"I got news flash for you, Foxie." Amaya notes, bopping Mickey's nose. A grin then flashed on her face. "I already have a job. I'm a telemarketer. I try to persuade furs to buy bath stuff. I like to talk, so my boss said I'm perfect for this position. And yes, I do keep swearing on the down low whilst I work."

"Telemarketing? Out of all the career choices, in the entire world, you chose the one most think is a nuisance?" Mickey asked, a bit surprised, but not appalled. "Tell me, did you get anyone that hang up on you, saying, 'Don't ever call this number again?'"

Amaya grumbled, shook her head, and facepawed. Instead of bellowing out, "Shut up Mickey!", she said, "Yes . . . that has happened multiple of times, and it makes me feel bad. But that doesn't stop me from doing my job. It pays a lot of money."

Mickey smirked. "But you don't get as much as I do."

"Yeah, like you said, you were born into a rich family!"

"Jealous?"

Amaya shook her head, ending the conversation, and asked Mickey, "Say, do you want to go to the park?"

Mickey had a feeling that the bobcat would change the topic of conversation. He noticed she was starting to feel uncomfortable. "Sure. That would be wonderful. Lead the way to the park if you please." he said, smiling, flicking his bushy tail.