Half-time Entertainment

“TransLoc Services would like to assure <First Name> <Last Name> that accidents are extremely rare – practically non-existent. The situation you now find yourself in where <Short description of our fuckup> is absolutely not due to any fault or failure on behalf of TransLoc services."

Hermes sighed. Ethereal text floated across his vision. They hadn't even bothered to edit their boilerplate response.

“[Jargon 427:] TransLoc Instantaneous Matter Transfer TM relies on gravitational stability between embarkation and emergence points. The likelihood of a neutron star collapse during transfer is vanishingly small: less than 1 in (Random() x Date())"

Perhaps in retrospect working in the nude had been a bad idea. When you're alone on a planet a million miles away from the next sentient creature social conventions become meaningless burdens. Especially if it's a stinking hot day and you have a furry pelt it's very tempting to just let it all hang free. Hermes' Great Dane dog ancestors had been letting their balls dangle in the breeze for ten thousand generations before him.

“To resolve this issue we can assure you we have teams of Lawyers working tirelessly to ensure we are completely free from any liability. This is good news for you because horrible outcomes are bad for our shareholders. A Personalized Response Associate will soon be available to handle your case. You are … [215th] … in the queue. Please continue to hold and thank you for using TransLoc Services!"

Hermes grimaced at the notifications. He didn't really have a choice in holding or letting go.

Unitary Exploits had been promising for a year to send a replacement calibration board for his main communications antenna. As his employer they were responsible for ensuring he had a reliable interface to the rest of the universe. But the faulty board was considered a low priority as he could make manual adjustments to compensate. According to the maintenance manual the correct procedure for calibrating the communications uplink takes twenty minutes. Requisite equipment involves safety harnesses, a signal meter, two different precision tools, and a tethered hovering travel pad. After the eighth time making the same adjustment Hermes had refined the procedure. He could clamber onto the air conditioner, stretch his other leg to brace against the water tank and hang on to the weather monitor with one hand. The position was only slightly awkward – splayed out a couple of metres in front of the TransLoc transceiver. But a few decent whacks with a pipe-wrench against the comms antenna until the indicator light went from orange to green and the job would be completed in two minutes. It wasn't even worth bothering to don pants.

“[Addendum 182:] Please note: In answer to your most urgent question right now: your limbs are currently [List 27. Insert one of: (Fine!) (Slightly smaller.) (Slightly larger.) (Swapped around a bit.) (Still in transit.) (Lost in the heart of a neutron star.)] If this answer has resolved your situation please hang up now to allow faster service to other customers. Thank you for using TransLoc services!"

His limbs still felt fine. Hermes could feel the pipe-wrench in his right hand and the weather monitor pole in his left. His paws were standing on something – he could feel the cooler metal of the air conditioner against one paw-pad and the rough concrete of the water tank against the other. It's just that, well, his limbs appeared to be gone. And he couldn't move them at all.

Galactic Football League finals, Seattle, Earth – the most important sporting event in the Galactic calendar. The mega-stadium seated more than 100,000 real and virtual spectators. For the obscenely wealthy flaunting their opulence meant TransLoc'ing their actual physical bodies to lavish box seats in the stadium. The merely disgustingly rich spectators had to compromise by being holographic bodies with UniCom visual, sound and tactile interfaces. To the spectator it felt as real as being in the stadium in person. But their physical bodies remained at home. And for the trillions of remote spectators peppering the galaxy Virtual Reality interfaces allowed them to observe the game. Spectators could view the game in three dimensional high definition through any of hundreds of drone cameras or helmet and clothing cameras of the players. Or they could even view the game through real-time immersive reconstructions from any point on the field. Augmented players moved so quickly their actions were incomprehensible blurs to standard humans and Anthromorphs. Actual gameplay lasted barely 30 seconds. The remainder of the three-hour sporting spectacular was slow-motion replays and advertisements.

Hermes felt they were all staring at him. That wasn't quite true. While most of the crowd were indeed staring at his naked form suspended a couple of metres above the field, quite a few were staring at the billboards showing the live video of his predicament instead.

Camera drones flitted in a swarm. Several tiny flying cameras had attached like lampreys to the TransLoc bubble interface surrounding him. The cameras relayed live video probably to the entire OuterNet and to the many jumbo vidscreens littering the stadium. But the throngs of people nearest him were most definitely staring right at Hermes. The interface where Seattle, Earth met his world was practically invisible. Only the merest soap-bubble sheen of iridescence defined the sphere. So there was nothing at all hiding his naked flesh from their laughing scrutiny. Around him the sports teams' players milled aimlessly unable to continue their game. They whispered to each other and pointed laughing at the helpless, naked Anthromorph.

The jumbo vidscreen which had been relaying the helpful and apologetic TransLoc messages flickered and went blank. It shimmered into a giant image of a Great Dane's butt-hole. Oh, Universal Constants. Is there no shame in this world. Someone had positioned a drone camera against the interface directly behind and beneath his tail. Another billboard switched to an image of his sheath and balls. And another from a camera directly below, looking upward at his balls. One-by-one every vidscreen in the arena switched to a live camera feed of a close-up of Hermes anatomy until the entire stadium was awash in embarrassingly intimate representations of Hermes' genitals.

He tried to clamp his tail down for privacy. Somehow having his butt-hole displayed twenty feet tall on the side of a building was intensely humiliating for Hermes. Unfortunately his tail was also caught in the interface between two worlds as he'd been holding it out to counterbalance his swings with the pipe-wrench. The image of his pucker darkened. Who knew when you blushed your anus blushes too.

A smaller vid-screen hovered in front of Hermes and a geeky-looking human face appeared. “Ah.. yes… right. Seems we've had a bit of bother. Mr… ah… Mr. Herpes?"

“Hermes." A growl.

“Ah… good… right. You can hear me. That's good. And you can talk. Very good. Yes." The hovering screen lurched, then went blank.

Hermes sighed. TransLoc's finest on the case. I feel better already.

Something touched his shoulder. Hermes spun his head to look but there was nothing there. It had been a light touch, like a finger. Perhaps he'd imagined it. Or an insect had momentarily alighted.

The hovering screen returned and stabilized with the human face. “Ha! Sorry, pressed the wrong button." The face looked down, presumably to check notes. “Right. Let me explain what happened and how we're going to fix it." The face checked its notes again, “First up, you're absolutely fine – your integrity matrix is absolutely, 100% uncorrupted. Everything is where it should be and working perfectly. Secondly, you're not really here in Seattle. The interface is just transmitting light and sound – it's a simple communication interface. That's really not so unusual when we get three overlapping spatial displacements to have…"

“Wait… three?" Hermes had mostly been ignoring the human. Something had touched his nose – something had definitely touched his nose but there wasn't anything visible. “Did you say 'three' displacements? Seattle, and my home… that's only two."

The human face dipped to his notes again. “Ah… right. Well… See, there was a small package sent to your house via TransLoc. Nothing of consequence – what's a 'Natasha personal masturbator toy'?"

The crowd in the Stadium erupted in laughter while the twenty-foot-tall pink butt-hole vidsceen darkened to an even deeper shade.

“Anyway… at the same moment while the Thargoid Ambassador was leaving the GFL Stadium there was a gravitational incident. Your delivery dis-associated. Probably it's in the heart of a neutron star - that happens, you know. The TransLoc hardware switched into an emergency recovery protocol. But it appears you were standing directly in front of the transceiver. You should note therefore this is entirely your fault and frees TransLoc Services from all liability and damage claims…"

Something definitely touched Hermes on the cheek. It was almost a caress. But there was nothing there – nothing he could see and nothing unusual on the sole vidscreen bothering to show his face. He snarled at the camera on the bubble in front of him. A Great Dane snarl is quite a terrifying sight – there's a huge amount of jowl and face to bunch up to expose sharp teeth. The crowd cheered their approval.

Jargon – the shibboleths of the technocratti – drifted by Hermes. “… parasitic feedback… resonance cascade… combative fail-safes…" Just meaningless words. “… a bubble approximately two metres in diameter. Unfortunately your arms, legs, and tail were outside the bubble, so they're kinda stuck until we can resolve the spatial issues. Your limbs are fine – they're still attached and blood is still flowing. So you don't need to worry at all." The human burbled on.

“'Three'. You said 'Three displacements'" Hermes felt that caress against his other cheek and down his neck. Absolutely nothing near his face was visible on the screens but something was touching him; something he couldn't see.

“Right… the Thargoid Ambassador. Well, you can be assured he made it safely back to his home-world. So that's definitely a relief for everyone! Can you imagine the intergalactic turmoil if we'd lost the Ambassador!" The human practically beamed happiness from the floating screen. “But there…. Ah… Well…. Part of your interface went with him." The face looked down at his notes. For a moment he looked startled and slightly panicky. But he fixed a smile in place and his voice barely wavered, “It's… ah… oh. Well…"

“What! Universal Constants, what!" Hermes was starting to panic a little. He could plainly feel something warm and slimy licking one of his nipples.

“The, ah, interface is more of a spatial, tactile thing. The, ah, the Thargoid Ambassador can't see you, but… ah… he can touch you. You're sort of… like a shaped invisible surface to him. But don't you worry – the Ambassador has been notified of your situation and he has assured everyone of your safety. So you have absolutely nothing to worry about at all." The face beamed from the floating screen. He flicked a glance to his notes, paled and muttered almost inaudibly “Does he really? Oh my word." Then the screen went blank.

Thargoidians? Hermes had little interest in Galactic politics. He vaguely recalled some news article on the OuterNet about a treaty between the Thargoidians and … someone. The accompanying video had shown two creatures. One looked like a cactus made of knives. The other a green amorphous blob with a dozen pseudopod limbs. Hermes swallowed and wondered if he was about to be carved into shreds or fondled by a dozen tentacles.

Something decidedly un-knife-like squeezed his buttock. The jumbo displays clearly showed the tan fur of his buttock being compressed then released as though an invisible hand had squeezed the muscle. Both buttocks compressed then the vidscreen showed Hermes' butt-cheeks pulled outward. The crowd of people in the arena cheered to the unhindered sight of his exposed butt-hole. At the same time as the billboard showed the flesh of his pucker being massaged, Hermes felt a tongue licking his sphincter. He clenched reflexively and twenty feet of pink flesh on the side of a building bunched in sympathy. Hermes closed his eyes – he really didn't want to give his own butt-hole such intimate scrutiny.

“Hermes, Employee 4937118gdm! This is Chief Financial Officer Biggins of Universal Exploits! Listen up!" Hermes' eyes snapped open. A floating vid screen blocked the horror of his own mammoth butt-hole from view. Instead, the horror of one of the Corporate executives of his employer filled his vision. While this wasn't quite talking with a god, it was definitely deity-level communication. He snapped his attention to the screen and resolutely ignored the tongue probing at the ring of his sphincter.

“Surf!" Hermes had meant to say 'sir', but at that moment the tongue had penetrated the defences of his clenched muscles and invaded his rectum. In his peripheral vision a billboard showed the ring of his anus had opened slightly and was being manipulated in a circular motion.

“Employee, you are in the happy position of assisting in fostering a significant trade agreement with one of our closest allies. The secretary to the Thargoidian Ambassador has suggested the Thargoids are enthusiastic to explore a more intimate relationship… Employee! Are you paying attention?"

“Huh? Wha? Oh, yes sir! Intimate relashurrrr…" the tongue pushed deeper into Hermes. Fully six inches of prehensile tongue was stroking around inside Hermes' rectum.

“Exactly! Universal Exploits stands to benefit significantly from mining rights…" The voice was saying something, but Hermes' attention was focussed on the tongue working his insides. It must have been eight inches or more flexing in his bowels. The tongue flicked around over his prostate – practically caressing the gland. On the wall of a building his anus was being manipulated up and down, side-to-side as the invisible tongue licked his insides. His sphincter stretched open and closed as the tongue pushed deeper and withdrew. “… therefore our full cooperation! Do you understand, Employee?"

“Sir! Yes, Sirrr! Urrr! Sir!" Another tongue wrapped around Hermes' scrotum.

“In a gesture of goodwill the Thargoid ambassador made a suggestion and we agree with him. TransLoc have adjusted the interface to allow hydration to be supplied to you in case (and I stress it is highly unlikely) it takes some days to resolve this situation. TransLoc Services have generously agreed to waive one third of your cost of this interface! What do you say to that, Employee?"

“Whuh? Huh?" Hermes hadn't been listening, completely distracted by the suctioning on his scrotum. “Oh, very gurrrgh! Sir!"

The hovering vid screen had flitted away so Hermes could see a billboard showing how his balls were being pushed gently around in their black velvet sack. On the display his scrotum was alternately lifted then stretched down while his testes were rolled around inside. To Hermes it felt like a skilled tongue lapping over his scrotum. There was a smattering of polite applause from the onlookers. Hermes grimaced at remembering he was naked and being violated in front of a crowd of thousands.

But the skill of the invisible Ambassador was undeniable. Two additional tongues were tracing circles around each of Hermes' nipples. How many tongues does this creature have? Despite the embarrassment of being on display, Hermes felt himself getting sexually aroused. The view screen focussed on the opening of his sheath caught the first glimpses of the pointed tip of his penis begin to emerge. Hermes blushed. Oh no… not again… not in front of everyone. Can't you all just look away and give me some privacy?

“Tonight! Live, from GFL Stadium! Seattle! Earth! Let's hear it for our favourite star of the OuterNet Vid shows! Everyone, please welcome…. HERMES!" Floodlights mounted on gantries and drones snapped on. Hermes was illuminated in a bright glare of harsh lights. A deafening cheer went up from the throngs of people surrounding him. News cameras were hovering around him and a sportscaster was EmCee-ing the spectacle. Oh no… oh no no no no…

“We first met our young Great Dane morph in the slug caves of his home-world where he treated us to a beautiful and intimate encounter with his slimy friends." One of the billboards switched to a brief video recap of Hermes quivering and ejaculating into the morass of slugs. “Then he went on and usurped the entire OuterNet in a kinky sex-match against an evil military machine." Another brief montage of images showing the naked Anthromorph being intimately probed by the crashed satellite. “Hermes showed us all how his sexual prowess was no match for mere technology! With his appetites for exhibitionism growing, Hermes threw himself into the grasping tentacles of an egg-laying plant!" The highlight real from Hermes' family reunion showed a cluster of giggling children pointing at Hermes being impregnated by a plant. “Right there, in front of the children of his family members, Hermes allowed himself to be filled with the plant's eggs. All transmitted in glorious surround-vid, high-definition, taste-o-rama to his adoring fans."

“No! No, that's not how it happened!" Hermes protested but clamour of the cheering crowd and the roar of the EmCee whisked his voice away.

“And now in the flesh, for the very first time, in front of a live audience of one hundred thousand and an OuterNet audience of trillions! Here, in GFL Stadium! What performance of perverse pleasures will Hermes entice us with this evening!"

Hermes squeezed his eyes shut. Onlookers stared at him expectantly. As if it weren't embarrassing enough to be the subject of everyone's entertainment Hermes was under pressure from his bosses to facilitate their trade agreements. The mere expectation of him performing sexually for a crowd of strangers was enough to dissipate any feelings of arousal he might have been having. His cock retreated hastily into its protective sheath as the tongue withdrew from his bowels.

Despite an impressive demo-reel of innumerable sexual escapades the Anthromorph was very shy. He disliked attention of any kind. Human curiosity about hybrid anatomy discomfited Hermes.

A hush fell over the crowd. A small microphone hovered in front of Hermes.

“If you could all just... Glark!" A fluid had poured into Hermes' mouth. He swallowed reflexively. That flavour – he'd tasted it before. Mandarins. Oh… no… oh gods no… He knew that taste and the warm sensation that spread outward from his tongue and throat. The slugs he'd encountered in a cave on his home world excreted the stuff. It was an aphrodisiac – especially potent for canids. Somehow the Ambassador must have obtained the hormones. And the TransLoc interface had been re-tuned to transmit more than simple tactile sensations. Oh hell…

Hermes' eyelids fluttered closed. The crowd waited in silent anticipation, collective breath held.

Like a tiny supernova, heat burst in the Great Dane's belly. Tingling warmth radiated outward, suffusing his limbs. With dread Hermes anticipated the inevitability of the drug. His penis twitched inside his sheath. Four jumbo vidscreens zoomed in for a closeup of the pink tip of canine penis peeking out. Clear drops of fluid, eight foot tall on the screens, oozed from the round urethra.

Invisible to Hermes and onlookers a corded tendril had wrapped gently around the canine's sheath and balls. Tension on the cord drew back Hermes' sheath, revealing his most intimate anatomy. Pink flesh glistened as the canine penis was exposed. Football players milling around the field pointed at the Great Dane's groin and the crowd sighed, “Ooooo!"

Mortified that he was again being humiliated in front of a bazillion onlookers Hermes kept his eyes pinched shut, willing for the embarrassment to be over. Relentlessly his shaft grew longer and thicker with his knot starting to expand near the base of his penis. The crowd approved, “Ahhh!"

“And now! Here! Live, on the line we have… Hermes' mother! Give a big cheer for our SuperStar's mommy!"

Herme's eyes snapped open, What? Oh hell… Before he could protest an invisible tentacle jammed into his mouth and a swarm of tendrils whipped around his muzzle, binding his jaws around the invader. Involuntarily presemen spurted from the canine's penis and the football players hastily stepped away from the arc of fluid. Like a crash of ocean against cliffs the crowd roared a welcome.

“Oh, hullo Hermes dear, is that you? I can hardly hear you over the telly." The elderly woman's voice warbled over the stadium amplifiers, “You should phone more often. Did the cream I recommended solve that nasty rash on your, you know, boy parts? Your father's watching the GFL game. Said he can't come to the phone as it's a live feed. My word these half-time shows are getting naughty! Who's going to buy products just because a naked person endorses it?"

A thicker tentacle was probing Hermes' anus. On the jumbo screen the pucker slickened with an oily sheen while the flesh dimpled inward. For a moment it seemed the straining muscles clenching furiously might prevent the intruder. But in high-definition, spot-light illuminated, ultra-live TV the pucker suddenly breached. As the invisible tentacle wriggled inward trillions of viewers around the Galaxy were treated to a view of several inches of the inside of Hermes' rectum. Sharp pain made Hermes shudder, but the wriggling invader pressed his insides in too familiar ways. On another screen the giant canine penis throbbed, sending another spurt of presemen arcing over the field and players milling beneath. “Oooo!" the crowd approved.

Somewhere a thousand light-years away the Thargoidian ambassador revelled in the invisible struggling body that had materialized in his lounge. So much to explore… so much to play with…

“Your cousin came over with her pups – now everyone knows she's having sex with a dog! and they're all watching the game too. You're not watching the big game today? Why don't you like sports, dear? Was it that time at junior tennis when they had no boys' shorts left and made you wear a frilly skirt?" Somehow his mother always chose the worst time to talk about his past degradations.

Invisible to the crowd but felt by Hermes, a suckling maw clamped over his exposed penis. From the pointed tip to behind his knot the maw undulated and squeezed. At the same time a limb-thick tentacle slithered deep into Hermes colon. Half the stadium displays showed a giant canine cock webbed with angry red veins being squeezed and pumped. Other displays showed a rippling pink tunnel stretched taut and glistening with slime. With desperate inevitability twangs of impending release jolted the canine's abdomen. Glowing slug aphrodisiacs brought Hermes to the brink of orgasm.

Tongues circling canine nipples became suction tubes and the anal intruder hummed and writhed. Along Hermes' cock the maw tightened and tugged hard around his knot. Shame warred with relentless stimulation until with a massive judder Hermes orgasmed. A resounding cheer greeted the first spurts of whitish semen. While trillions of viewers watched, Hermes painted the field with his cum. He shook and spasmed in his binds while his cock jetted a torrent of semen. The unwary players below were showered in canine emissions over their upturned faces. The camera hastily cut away from the sight of some of the players licking their lips.

Through the roaring approval of the crowd Hermes barely heard his mother's tremulous voice, “Oh now your father got his willy out and is stroking, with the pups right there in the room. He's shameless! Just because of some naked celebrity on the screen. Guess who is going to have to clean the vidscreen later. Me, that's who. Your father squirts so much; usually its semen but he's getting old so it could be wee…"

As Hermes' ecstasy waned a new sensation started at the tip of his penis. At first the jets of semen were diverted, spraying to the sides instead of forward. Then something poked at the round hole in the tip of his shaft. On the vidscreen the hole was stretched open as Hermes felt an invisible tendril slither into his urethra. Despite the peculiar invasion a sudden tug around the canine's knot made him judder with another spurt of orgasm. With the invading tendril almost blocking his urethra the ejaculation was stymied. The canine's urethra bulged painfully then white semen oozed out around the tendril to dribble down his sheath and over his balls.

The tendril pushed deeper, sounding through Hermes' urethra until it met resistance from the sphincter sealing the entrance to the canine's bladder. Hermes whimpered around the tube in his mouth. Pressure from the tendril felt like the overwhelming urgency to urinate. With a horrified grunt Hermes felt the tendril breach into his bladder. Without volition he could feel his bladder draining into the hollow tendril. On the vidscreen a yellow stream flowed from the gaping hole in the canine's penis. Hermes closed his eyes, willing the trillions of viewers to avert their vision while he involuntarily peed. The approving cheers of the stadium crowd reddened Hermes' ears. With his eyes pinched he didn't see how the stream of urine didn't fall away. Instead the golden liquid undulated in globs as though being pumped through a tube. The globs drifted upwards towards the oblivious canine's muzzle.

Warm, acrid liquid flowed from the tube in Hermes' mouth. Reflexively he swallowed until with a start he opened his eyes. A twenty-foot tall screen showed a fawn canine anthro swallowing a stream of yellow fluid that flowed from its penis into its muzzle. In disgust Hermes realized it was impossible to prevent himself from drinking his own urine. Ah well – it's not like I haven't been forced to before.

Two other fluids entered the canine at the same time. In his mouth the acrid taste blended into the sweet mandarin flavour of another dose of aphrodisiac. Simultaneously blue gobs of fluid pumped from outside the TransLoc interface toward the gaping cavern of Hermes' anus.

“Let's hear it for Hermes! Bold as brass he's showing us how an exhibitionist loves to drink his own pee!" the EmCee roused the stadium, “And speaking of pee… did you know Thargoidian's pee blue?"

Oh hell… he's PEEING in my butt? Hermes watched a vidscreen in horror as blue liquid wobbled inexorably toward the open cavity. Peppermint heat spread in his intestines. The flow seemed relentless, sloshing around his insides until his abdomen bulged.

But the aphrodisiac he'd swallowed countered with heat of its own in the canine's stomach. Bright tingles of pleasure made Hermes' cock throb to full hardness again. The crowd gasped in expectation. Behind his knot suckling pressure tugged his penis. Tendrils pulled his scrotum lower until the black sack was taut and shiny. Hermes closed his eyes against the irrevocable onslaught of stimulation.

A querulous voice drifted through the quiet anticipation in the stadium air, “When are you going to give me grand-pups, Hermes dear? You've never even had a girlfriend! You could ask your other cousin – she's not picky at all. Mind you the poor dear is ugly as a geriatric pug…"

Despite the threatening distractions of his mother's waffling the jolts of electric pleasure in Hermes' groin became overwhelming. Corded tendons along his neck and arms bulged with tension. With a massive judder Hermes spasmed against the binding interface. Orgasm ripped through him like a tsunami. On the vidscreen the audience witness a large bulge travelling up the canine's urethra. A huge glob of white semen poured from the gaping tip. Several smaller white globs followed. But, like the yellow liquid earlier the white blobs drifted upwards. Hermes glanced through the haze of bliss at the screen, only to clench his eyes closed as he saw what was entering his muzzle.

At the same time dark blue globs pumped along the tube into Hermes' colon. The liquid felt hot and thick as it joined lighter blue fluids in the canine's guts. Mangers at Universal Exploits Headquarters were pleased to discover Hermes had met his obligations of satisfying the Thargoidian. The ambassador's semen sloshing in Hermes' guts stretched his stomach. His normally flat abdomen bulged with the volume of Thargoidian cum. Being stretched stimulated Hermes so his orgasm washed back and forth through his body. His own cum was a constant stream he had to swallow or choke. Barely heard through the haze of his bliss a constant roar of approval from the crowds echoed around the stadium. Below, the sports teams pointed in awe at the volumes of liquid pouring into the suspended canine.

The torrent of dark blue ejaculate pouring through the tentacle in Hermes' butt slowed to a trickle. Deep inside his guts the writhing limb began to retract, slithering around the convolutions of his intestines. It seemed the alien monster was sated. On the largest vidscreen a zoomed in view of a red, abused sphincter filled the display. Bright blue liquid poured in a torrent from the gaping cavity. Fatigued muscles stymied any attempted to staunch the flow – Hermes couldn't clench to seal his abused pucker. A satisfied cheer rose from the stadium onlookers.

“Looks like the half-time shows are nearly over." The reedy voice of Hermes' mother pierced his awareness, “There's an advert for that tourist destination at Sapphire River in the Rose Caverns onscreen now so I guess the game will be starting again. I'd better go before it gets too raucous here. Take care sweetie, and call your mother more often!" Thankfully the humiliating call ended.

“Well folks, it looks like the mid-game entertainment is drawing to a close." The EmCee's amplified voice boomed, “Let's have a big round of applause for our favourite porn star: Hermes!" The crowd erupted in in a roar of applause and catcalls. “Thanks for being such a good sport. We hope to see more of you in the future (although, kids, I don't think there's any part of him we haven't seen!)"

A small display hovered in front of the barely aware canine's face. “Ah… Mr. Herpes? Our techs have found a solution and you should…"

Hermes' foot slipped off the water-tank as he suddenly discovered all of him was back home. He failed to arrest his fall and crashed backward to the ground. The impact jarred his guts and he couldn't prevent a great backwash of blue slime pouring from his gaping butthole. For a moment he lay in the gooey blue mud staring at the sky, wondering why his life was so weird.