FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Problems with Inebriated Crime Lords

November 14th Prompt: Portalling Under the Influence

Salla normally avoided alcohol. Not for any moral or puritanical reason, given that the white mouse had few enough of those. No, it was more because of what he could do. When one happened to be a criminal with the literal power to suspend the rules of physics and reality, as well as having access to mad science inventions meant to make common sense question itself, it tended to be a bad idea not to have full control of one's faculties.

It started out with just a sip on New Years. Then a second. Then a third.

And then he started thinking, and a criminal mastermind's thoughts, weighed down by approximately a pint of unfiltered moonshine, combined with the pent-up nature of the always-busy rodent, created a situation that nobody expected.

Salla passed through the crowd, red suit jacket swaying as he managed to keep the stumbles his body kept trying to force on him out of his gait. Instead, he walked with a smile on his face, a mask on the smile, and hands outstretched to greet anyone and everyone. And as he did, his tail - and whatever gloved set of fingers wasn't busy holding the other person's attention - would do their magic.

It was slow, at first. A ring here, a bangle there, and the crowd was none the wiser. They were all happy, all cheering the success of their latest heist. Some were already heading off in pairs and threesomes, eager for a bit of fun now that the serious part of the job was over.

Salla watched one group in particular, consisting of his massive polar bear officer Olag and two vixens, slowly trudge toward the door out of the great hall. The mouse let out a half-drunk giggle, one hand in his coat pocket. He waited until Olag was right at the edge of the room, reaching for the door, and hit the button on the corresponding ring to the one he'd slapped beneath the bear's loincloth.

Ping.

No sooner had he touched the edge of the golden band than a massive cock popped into his pocket. He hummed under his breath, pulling it free of his jacket pocket. Everyone else was too busy talking to each other to notice their boss with a big black cock nearly nine inches long in his hand, but as he whistled and spun it around, people slowly began to stare.

Olag, of course, had noticed as soon as the mouse had pressed the button. Normally, he would never torment his second in command like this. Take his dick away just when he was about to go conquering some lucky ladies? Why, that would be a dastardly act, no matter how funny, not to mention invoking a hell of a fight with the polar bear. Sober Salla would never.

Drunk Salla, however...

The polar bear slowly turned around, the nearly-seven-foot tall monster of a man looking over the crowd. Salla laughed, waving the big black dick over his head with one hand.

"Yoo-hoo!"

"Boss, you fucker - give me back my dick!"

"Gonna have to get it first!"

Laughing, the half-drunk mouse darted into the crowd. The majority of his criminal crew were completely caught off-guard, but a few - notably Sollon, his butler, and a few guests, such as a blue-suited otter - were quick to both get out of his way and throw their hands into their pants. The otter managed to get rid of the ring around his balls, and Sollon managed to divest himself of the bangles around his shaft and both ankles.

Everyone else had far less luck.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

As the giggling mouse activated one ring after another, his pockets began overflowing with dicks and other portions of anatomy. Several lucky ladies had their pussies stolen, falling out like pocket pleasure toys, and still others had other pieces stolen from them. Hands, feet, even a few tails fell out of the mouse's pockets as he ran through the room, giggling senselessly. There was no point, no profit to any of it, but it was fun, and that was all that mattered to him.

Even when Olag shoved his way through the crowd and seized the mouse by the throat, Salla just grinned. Not that anyone could see it behind the mask, of course. The bear growled.

"Give. Me. My. Dick."

"Pick a dick. Any dick."

As the mouse fanned no less than six dicks before him like a hand of cards, his tail flicked up and around. A thin line of wire lurched around, wrapping around the polar bear's neck. Olag had a split second to feel it, started reaching for it -

Ping.

And then it activated. Olag's head lurched into the air before coming down onto the mouse's palm. The bear's body stumbled back, completely unharmed, and Salla landed on his feet with nothing more than a stumble forward and back.

"Oh, oh. Oooh, a little more drunk than I thought," the mouse said. "Oh, Olag. Lost your head, did you?"

"I hate it when you're drunk, boss. Give me back my head, give me back my dick, and go - what the fuck are you doing?!"

"You know, I never thought your mouth looked sexy before, but it's sure nice."

"You have five seconds before I learn how to fight headless, boss! Fucking - ZIP YOUR PANTS UP!"

"I wonder if I could make you suck your own dick like this."

"SOMEONE GET THIS MOUSE SOME FUCKING COFFEE! RIGHT - ULK!"

"Mmm..."