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Part One - Meet the Fuckups

All across Omega Compound, the pneumatic delivery system was sending dangerously important messages to a number of citizens. All around the city, five different cubs are receiving red-labeled messages directing them to one of the public security stations at a certain time. From the sullen armless fox who sits and stares at the pneumatic message hatch, to the chipper 6-year-old squirrel who stops bouncing on the thick cock of the grown-up horse tied to his bed just long enough to get the message, reading as he bounces.

The very next day was humpday, and in the center of the city five strangers gather in a small room. They sit around the table looking over at each other wondering just why they have all been called here, at the table are several treats that a number of the cubs are availing themselves of, from taco/ ranch algae chips, to everyone's favorite thick creamy carbonated beverage Spoo.

It's the Blue furred poodle that speaks first, his fur has been shaved and trimmed into what was the regulation fur style of his species, with poofy-ball like contours, at 7 years of age he is still the largest of all the gathered cubs. He wears a set of crotchless gray chaps, with a black thong, letting the rest of them know just how big he really is and a gray button up vest. "Maybe we should take this time to introduce our selves. I am Bukk-A-KAE, I'm a supervisor at the liquid reclamation plant, in fact, my team might have even bottled this very spoo." The dog smiles proudly tapping a can of doubled carbonated gunine draft.

A 5-year-old pink bunny sitting at the table chugs his soda and burps loudly, a dribble of the white beverage trickling down his chin, "Not bad but I like the real thing. I'm Dept-H-ROT. I'm a lip service technician from the eastwest medical division." He dressed in a white nurses cap and skirt with no panties as per regulation, they can see through his regulation white mesh shirt that he's got a ring in his left nipple that dangles a metal chit bearing the eastwest logo. The licks his lips and smiles, slowly lapping up the pearly goodness that slips down over his full succulent lips

The 8-year-old armless fox who'd spent the last five minutes gnawing his way into a packet of cheddar cheese and banana crisps realizes everyone is looking at him. He lets the torn bag fall from his muzzle as he sits up straight. He's dressed simply in a plain green tunic, and what looks like a backpack. The backpack is really a Butt-LR server droid. It's meant to help the poor boy deal with his disadvantages, but it doesn't seem to do a very good job. He swallows, his voice a little raspy from the cottonmouth. "I'm Mas-T-RBT, I err work down in R&D as one of the test subject corps." He grins at the others showing teeth covered in orange crumbs as the robot cracks open a can sweet, spicy chili spoo and tries to pour the bubbly beverage don his left nostril.

"Hi everyone I'm Dub-L-ANL, I am rear echelon Happiness Facilitator. I'm really looking forward to working with all of you in the near future." The far too excited squirrel smiles as he says this. He's dressed in the pink uniform of the happiness patrol, with there sever warning of "Happiness is Mandatory" emblazoned across the front. It's not much of a uniform really, it's just a pink shirt and jockstrap. "I really can't wait to get to know each and every one of you." He smiles at the final member of the group eyeing his shorts. "Especially you big boy"

The final agent, a 6-year-old stallion, just grunts leaning back in his chair. "I'm Az-R-APE, I'm from the Age Enforcement agency. I'm guessing I'm your muscle on the team, the boy is definitely well built shown by the third leg that slips out of his loose fitting purple shorts. He doesn't bother wearing a shirt, preferring instead a set of straps connected to metal rings and his white fur doesn't seem to be marred with a hint of color.

As they finish the computer monitor sparks to life and the pixilated smiley face gazes out over them. The synth voice speaks clearly telling the cubs exactly why they are here. "Greetings Fuckup team 11427. You have been selected for your individual skills to address a dire threat to the safety of Omega Compound and to the survival of CubPewter. CubPewter demands you seek out this threat and perform your duties, do you accept? (Y/N) CubPewter reminds team 11437 that failure to accept a mission from CubPewter is treason." The gathered cubs simply nod their affirmative to the little electric eye watching the boys. They each take a few minutes to read the mission briefing as the advanced dot-matrix printer spits out the reams of paper.

Bukk frowns as he reads the mission. "CubPewter has learned saboteurs are planning to attack important facilities in the compound, we don't know where, or who but we have been tasked to stop them. According to his sources if we fail there could be consequences for the whole of Omega compound"

The team heads towards the far wall where several lockers sit, each one bearing the name of one member of the team scrolling across them in bright LED letters. Each one is scan locked, one by one the team makes towards there doors. The scanners are at waist height on the average, a small chamber set into the door.

Bukk-A-KAE, seams to be the self appointed leader so he goes first., whipping out his member and sliding it into the slot. He shivers as the glass tube closes in around him. "Brrr that's cold." He mutters as the scanners verify his identity. Vein patterns, length, thickness, no too members are exactly the same so CubPewter tends to use that to guarantee a person's identity. After a second the locker pops open. There isn't much in it the poodle gathers up the laser rifle, a small pile of plasticreds and his team badge,

Seeing how Bukk's was safe the others quickly step up to there lockers and pop them open. Though Mas needed help it fit into the scanner. It seems a standard load out.

Az was given a Dong rifle, which makes the horse grin like a mad man. The Dong rifle fires an oddly shaped explosive projectile. The bolt, a curved shaft with a rounded head, rests on two off center rounded propulsion charges. It's a powerful but inaccurate weapon. These flaws have been pointed out but questioning the will of CubPewter, even in weapons designs, is treason.

The rest of the team get a smattering of laser pistols, shiney silver pittle hand held guns with a round ribbed grip. The barrel is a bit stubby with glowing rings tapering toward the focusing tip. But Dub's gun looks a little different, a pink coated plastic gun with the barell ending in a softly rounded cone. On the butt of the gun is a round dial to control the weapons intensity "Ohhh A Pleaser I've always wanted one of these." Says the squirrels as he holsters the experimental weapon. The pleasure laser fires a concentrated beam of energy that interacts with a targets nervous system, triggering a buildup in the pleasure centers of the brain. At low levels this results in a powerful debilitating, and often embarrassing instant orgasm. But on higher settings a victim and literally cum to death. He also shoulders the small autodoc mobile medic.. "So where are we going?" he asks.

Mas snorts "We should probably check the Rec Tunnels, everything gets recycled so if you wanted to spread something through out the whole system that's the place to go."

Dept "I say we hit the Lube vats. That stuff is used by the whole population"

The poodle frowns "The same could be said for Spoo. Maybe we should check out liquid reclamation plant"

Az yawns, "Sure those might be targets but why do you think this is targeted at the people If you wanted to take down CubPewter you would go for his heart I say the target is gonna be the power management center."

Choices

Should they investigate

the Lube Vats,

Recycling Sub Tunnels

The Center for power management

or the liquid reclamation plant