FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Steel burned and sizzled in the mid-afternoon rain. The hood of the blue car, almost three decades old, bellowed white smoke from its cracks. The vehicle was a coupe, based on a Japanese model notorious for appearing in various animated films. One particular anime of the racing genre focusing on the delivery of tofu fantasized Mac.

Mac was now sitting on the driver's side with the door open and phone in hand.

"Afternoon, Sergeant," Mac said into the phone.

"Hey Kenzy, so, I've got good news."

Mac played with the tinfoil remains of a gum wrapper in his free hand. "Yes?"

"The retention NCO for your new unit? Says they've got the slots, and you'll probably become a sergeant once in."

"Alright."

"The bad news, your new unit is currently deployed and in the field."

Mac twiddled the tin packaging, unable to focus on the phone. So plagued now, not by a common cold but a headache. "Alright."

"So you're going to wait at least nine months before anything happens."

"Sergeant, what about my pay?"

The retention NCO on the line was silent. Nothing came through the phone speaker except the occasional click of a mouse and hum of a computer.

"Kenzy, you there?"

Mac dropped the tinfoil. "Yes, Sergeant."

"Listen, to make it simple; you're in limbo. You're not going to get paid for that storm activation until your new unit comes home."

The coupe coughed one last burp of white smoke. Mac's nostrils burned with the ever-wreaking stench of coolant.

"Understood."

"It was good having you onboard, Kenzy. I wish you good luck and hope you stay dry. It is still rainy out there."

"You too."

Then the call ended, and Mac sighed. He opened his banking app, saw he had about two hundred dollars left, and got angry. But the headache worsened, so he let out another sigh and pocketed his phone.

Beneath the leather-lined wheel was a rod, which, when pulled, popped the coupe's hood. Now exposed, a final pocket of fumes wafted by Mac.

He knew what was wrong. A water pipe, located beneath the engine, had sprung a leak. Before his enlistment, the same issue had occurred before. Probably some flaw caused by the overall design of DSM vehicles. But a fault that he had dealt with ease before. But, of course, that was when he lived with his parents. So he would need an engine lift first to get at that part of the car. Then a new pipe to replace, which was difficult, as those cars were thirty years old.

And the worst part, Even if mac could find the pipe and spent all of his remaining savings on it, Mac knew it wouldn't be worth it.

Because the same problem would pop up later on again, and if this time wasn't the last time he found a replacement pipe? Then the next time might be. Or the one after that. Or another problem would occur. He already noticed how bad the coupe caught rust in this weather. The rains had only been getting worse. His time in basic and AIT, the car had gotten permanent spots in its rocker's. And he hadn't even lifted the vehicle to check its subframe. If rust started to occur there, then the car was as good as dead. And he didn't even want to think about the car's brake lines.

Slamming the hood closed, Mac was greeted by the raptor-like face of his landlord/roommate.

Mac twitched. "Jesus."

"Sorry, I just got back from work." Apologized Smelter, hands clasped around the handles of a cheap canvas bag containing clothes.

"School?"

"Nah, the term's been put on hold due to flood damages."

Smelter's hips swayed with the rain's breeze as she spoke, seemingly unaffected by the wetness.

Meanwhile, beads of water ran down mac's head, like blood from an open wound atop his skull.

The feathered lady puffed up her cheeks and exhaled.

"Let's head back to the dorm." She said.

The lobby of the apartment building was in worse shape than yesterday. More carpet was missing, more wood exposed. Bridging the chaos was gangway from the entrance doors to the stairs.

At the foot of was A 30-year-old human lady, talking on the phone. Beside her was a bucket, a mop, and a cobbled-together "Slippery!" sign made of whiteboards and tape.

Smelter smiled and nodded as she passed the lady while Mac pressed on.

"Careful!" whispered the human woman. Then, she mouthed "S-L-IP-ER-Y," as if any of them were still watching her as they climbed the stairs.

Reaching their humble abode, Smelter tossed her bag aside and shut the room door before turning to great Mac. "How about some grub?"

Mac winced. Moving inside made him better able to hear the Girl. And her voice in this instance was painful. "Sure."

The stove hissed and ignited.

"Even though I work at a fast food place, I still like to cook." Smelter spoke. As if to some inaudible beat, Smelter's hips and tail swayed. Not violently, but in a rhythm, Mac could deduce, where his headache not distracting him. "They say if you make your hobby your job, you can't enjoy it anymore. But I think you just got to..."

Smelter's rear flicked to the right as if flicked by a giant, and her tail slapped the cabinet. "Think differently."

Mac knelt before the shortened table. Maybe he would do better in his room. But Mac assured himself, if he went near his bed, he'd fall asleep. And that would be rude when his landlord was cooking for him.

The fact his kneeling brought him closer in height to Smelter's swaying ass had nothing to do with his decision.

"So, is there something wrong with your car?" chimed the Lizard as eggs fried on a pan.

"A pipe's broken."

"Oh dang." Smelter's hand reached for a cabinet overhead but didn't quite touch it. With his knees feeling numb, Mac used this as an opportunity to stand and help her out. "Is it fixable?"

He opened the cabinet. "It's too expensive." Simplify the issue. She probably wasn't that interested.

"Even if you did it yourself?" Her hand pointed at a store brand shaker of cayenne. "I mean, if you're a soldier, you should know something about that stuff, right?"

He passed her the spice. "Yes."

"Does the car mean a lot to you?"

Returning to his spot of kneeling, Mac gave it thought. It was the first car he'd ever purchased, all his own money earned over many summers. All his hard work and free time after school. All his love. "Yeah."

"How long have you had it?"

The pain came to his right temple, and again Mac winced. "Seven years."

The eggs were fried and grease popped with every flick of the pan. "How much would it cost to fix."

"The part itself is hard to find. I need an engine lift too."

Placing the eggs into a plate, Smelter opened the fridge and pulled out a bag of microwavable vegetables. "So because it's rare, you don't know how much to pay?"

"Yes."

Smelter nodded, though, from Mac's perspective, it looked weird.

Vegetables done and eggs cooked, melter placed down two plates on the table. "Eat up."

They ate in silence, save for the clanks of fork against ceramic. A noise that only worsened Mac's headache.

At last, with the meal finished, Mac's said goodnight.

"Oh, alright." Smelter said, still picking at cauliflower. "I'll get the dishes. You okay?"

"I've...got a headache." Replied the human, swaying. He clung onto the doorframe of his room and readied to collapse into bed at a moment's notice.

"I've got aspirin in the top cabinet if you can reach for it."

Mac sighed, scampered to the cabinet, and opened its oak doors. The red-capped bottle was nabbed, pried open, and two pills were swallowed dry by Mac. "Thanks."

"Feel better?" Smelter said, not asking, 'are you feeling better but 'was that smart?'

But mac didn't answer. He already found his way to bed and collapsed, still wearing his slightly damp work clothes. The blankets seemed to move over his shoulders as a spirit possessed them. The headache seemed to lighten up as sleep approached. He had a last thought right before he drifted off to sleep. Would an ass covered in feathers feel like a pillow?