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SHOWTIME (A WALTER FOX STORY)

by Little Bill

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story follows “The Furry Sex Scandal", “The Furry Sex Scandal: The Aftermath, "Jack", "The Adulterer", and "Interviewing Frank". It is also completely clean.)

Nothing graphically sexual in this account, dear reader...but there is naughtiness. Meaning I could have gotten not only myself but my whole department at PERC, as well as a close human friend of mine, into serious trouble. But everyone involved readily agreed to the whole thing, so I hardly feel guilty.

It started with a talent show we members of PERC have every half year, with our different departments competing. The winning department gets a weeks' vacation, and any travels we make have to be approved by the Earth authorities. Fortunately, since the attack on Sammy Skunk and Jim and the human response to it, the Earth authorities are a lot less restrictive on us than they used to be.

So what did my sociological department do? I called everyone into a meeting and came up with my idea. But first, a little background:

In my last account, I mentioned how my newest assistant Billy Otter had had a disrespectful habit of getting up late from sleep, and I punished him by tricking him into wearing a female outfit and having him appear in front of his colleagues unaware of this. Of course he was quite humiliated, and my assistants decided to humiliate him further (without my authorization) by singing the Aerosmith song “Dude (Looks Like A Lady)" to remind him what happened to him. Fortunately it cured Billy of the practice of sleeping in when he was not supposed it.

“I thought of our entry into the talent contest," I announced, then turned to Freddy Lynx and added, “I remember your performance imitating Steve Tyler."

Everyone recognized what I was referring to, and Billy Otter quickly spoke up. “No, no. I don't want to ever go through that again."

“No, I know you learned your lesson," I told him, and was pleased when I saw that the others showed no sign of amusement. “But I was thinking of our showman here."

“What, you want us to do that song?" Freddy asked.

“Why not?" I replied. “You really gave an enthusiastic performance there."

“I got carried away," Freddy confessed, “having seen the official video and everything."

“You wouldn't care to do that again?" I asked.

“I suppose I can," replied Freddy. “But who will do the bride and groom?"

“I don't mean we reenact the whole video," I said. “But I loved all the histrionics that Steve Tyler did when he performed his songs."

“Well, I did too," said Freddy. “So you think everybody else at PERC would?"

“It's worth a try," I replied.

“Could we perhaps do a different song?" suggested Billy.

“Actually, I think this song would be ideal," I replied.

“As a reminder?" asked Billy.

“No." I turned toward the others. “Because when you performed the song, you got the attention of our colleagues, who complained about the noise. And by the way, I trust nobody said anything outside our department about my little lesson to Billy?"

My assistants quickly said no.

“I said nothing either, except to the colleague of mine whose clothes I borrowed, and she promised to say nothing either. And I don't believe she has." I paused and added, “So people might be wondering why our department borrowed the karaoke machine and sang that song so loudly." Then I smiled and added further, “But we don't necessarily have to do that song. If you have any other ideas for what we could do at the talent show instead, that is fine with me."

Everyone, including Billy, seemed fine with my idea, whether it was because they had none of their own, or because it was what the boss wanted. In any case, we could not borrow the karaoke machine, but we had our own video players like every other department did, so Freddy Lynx did practice mimicking Steven Tyler's dancing around in the video. We may not have been required to have to copy Tyler's moves precisely, but better safe than sorry.

The night came for the talent contest. Everyone from each department had to perform, but they could choose anything they wanted, the idea was to impress the Director and his wife. They were the sole judges, and even those who disliked them trusted them to be fair in their decisions. The Director might not have made a good administrator, but nobody ever accused him of favoritism.

Our department did not win the previous talent contest, but as you might expect, dear reader, we did win this one, or there would be little point in my writing about this. As in the actual Aerosmith band, Freddy did the histrionic dancing while the rest of us mimic-played the other musicians, who did not dance around so much. Since it was Freddy who did most of the work in the performance, it was he who rightfully could determine what we should do on our week off. Of course if we were to travel far from PERC base, we still needed permission from the Earth authorities.

With that in mind, Freddy came up with idea as to what he wanted to do, but I had to make sure we would get them approved, so my input was required. We could not travel too far, of course, since the Earth authorities were providing all our funds, and though our budget was increased it was not enormously so. We could go to entertainment venues such as theaters, concerts, college sports events, or visit national parks and relatively inexpensive vacation spots. Casino gambling and high price-ticket concerts were out, of course, but none of us had a taste for those anyway. Any business had the right to turn us space aliens away if they chose, of course, but that was rarely a problem these days.

I let Freddy set the agenda, though when we added our suggestions, he agreed with most of them, so it did not take long for us to plan our vacation. There was one controversial idea-and it came from none other than me.

What I suggested was not explicitly forbidden, but definitely discouraged by, PERC rules. It was an idea that tickled my assistants as much as me-and I imagined that it would also tickle the friend of mine from my previous account who could have taken total advantage of me when he had the chance, but he did not. The fact that he refused to exploit me in a moment of my weakness was what made me really emotionally bond to him as much as Frank and the man from the Earth authorities who visited me in the hospital where Jim had been treated for his brain injury.

Who was this man? I dare not name him, for he is a human furry who even has a fursuit and whom I met at that first furry convention. But he was highly unusual for a furry; he was in fact a two-star United States Air Force general who was divorced and living alone, and since we last met I could only talk to him via secure emails, and only occasionally at that. He would have been perfect for my plan, but I realized there would be small chance that he would even be available for us, let alone dare to participate in my plot. But I was certain that he would be even more happy to do this sort of thing than me and my assistants.

I went ahead and emailed him-and to my joy, he was there, and home on leave! We chatted for a bit before I told him about the talent show...and what I had in mind that involved him. He was initially shocked, of course, and told me he could potentially get into trouble himself. But as expected, he was glad to do that sort of thing too, and we would both be happy to see one another. I would be glad to visit him even if decided not to go along with my idea-which he was still leery about going through with.

My assistants were still seated in the conference room, and I excitedly told them the news. They knew I was emotionally bonded to this human and would not care what else they wanted to do on the vacation as long as I had the chance to visit my friend. So with that in mind, I submitted the vacation agenda we all agreed to, my mentioning my visit to my friend but of course not of the prank we would play if we dared go through with it.

It was quickly approved by the Director and the Earth authorities, and in the weeks prior to our vacation week I even gladly did all the extra work I could for my assistants, to make them more amenable to carrying out my little prank. They could loaf more while I worked busily on our department's duties, and it helped make the time go faster for me.

Our vacation week started, and we got the best car for our outing. It would be near the end of the week before I could visit my friend and we could perform our little stunt-if we ultimately could. We went on boat tours, visited a water park, visited an amusement park, took in a national park for two days, saw several concerts, nothing really fancy. Humans were accustomed to us enough so that our presence caused little disturbance.

We did have an awkward time when we saw a singer at a concert and one of his songs was “MacArthur Park". When we heard the lyrics about leaving the cake out in the rain, we thought the singer was playing a prank on the audience because the lyrics in such a passionate song were so goofy, and we ended up laughing uproariously, and a number of other audience members evidently were following our lead and did the same. The singer stopped his song in midstream, looking upset, and we were escorted outside. Once outside, ironically enough, the humans who took us outside also felt that the song's lyrics were stupid as well, but they were supposed to take the song seriously, as was the audience. I told them, to their amusement, that on our world we also have works of art that turn out to be unintentionally funny.

If you think I am kidding, dear reader, here is a genuine actual portion of the song:

“MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark

All the sweet green icing flowing down

Someone left the cake out in the rain

I don't think that I can take it

'Cause it took so long to bake it

And I'll never have that recipe again, oh, no"

I realize after having looked it up that this song was intended to be taken seriously, but lyrics like this just made it unintentionally hilarious. I should write the singer at the concert an apology for that fact that we failed to keep a straight face when he sang those lyrics, but he might take it the wrong way. (And if you, dear reader, are a fan of this song and dislike my opinion, my apologies-but it still makes me laugh to read the lyrics.)

But that was not the big prank I had been referring to. We still had to meet with my general friend, and he still had to agree to go through with it. I would not have been surprised if he had ultimately chosen to back out of the whole deal. But I would have been very happy just to meet him at all.

I eagerly awaited the day, and at last it came. I called him on my portable phone to make sure he was still home and still wanted to have us visit. The answer was yes, and when the time came, I personally drove our car to his mansion, not even making a rest stop along the way. Though the drive was tiring, I was always eager to meet with someone I had bonded with, no matter who.

The garage door of his mansion was wide open, and though it had space for three cars, it had only one it it. I added ours to one of the remaining slots, and as I shut off the ignition, the garage door already was closing. There was my friend, in civilian clothes, at the control of the door. I jumped around in pure excitement, wagging my tail wildly, making welcoming yips, and when he gestured for me to come to him, I ran to him and collided with him, almost knocking him down. He leaned over and I licked his face, and he kissed me on the nose, after which I rubbed my muzzle around his neck and nibbled on his ears.

Yes, we animal-people are not simply humans in animal suits, though when I finally turned back toward my companions, they were really staring at me. I realized I had gone too far in my enthusiastic greeting, so I quickly went into my formal mode and introduced my assistants to my friend, and they shook hands with him formally. We all entered his mansion and went into his living room.

It was simply but luxuriously furnished, with the only visible indication of his connection to the furry world being a large painting of a non-anthropomorphic red fox by a well-known furry artist, lying on its side and smiling as it showed off its paw pads. My assistants did notice the painting, and were evidently very surprised than an older man in a high position in the United States military would ever be a furry, let alone associate with other furries, and they must have wondered how I ended up bonding so strongly to him. But they never asked and I did not volunteer the reason either.

But they were pleased when he told them that he was going to go ahead with the whole thing. He had food ready for us, and we ate and drank. Then he left us and later came back wearing his blue service uniform. I knew that Earthian military people had separate field and dress uniforms, but on our world we simply had a single uniform type for all occasions, and wore civilian clothes if we were not on duty. Also, there is no such thing as separate dress and everyday clothes in general. Humans, after all, have less variation in body shape and proportions than we animal-people do, and most non-utility clothing has to be tailored. Our clothing is also looser, and pressing clothing flat is unknown. I knew that as a general, my friend had to wear close-fitting, custom-tailored clothing. Even the most high-ranking military people on our world had to wear regular military clothing when on any military duties.

But I digress. It was already mid-afternoon, and we had to be at the Nevada black mailbox by nightfall. So after eating and using the bathroom, we hurried toward the garage and into our host's car, a sedan which resembled an official government car, which I was certain he obtained on purpose. He got in the driver's seat and we piled in the rest of the interior. We also had to duck down so we would not be seen, which was part of the plan. It was an uncomfortable and dangerous way to ride for hundreds of miles, but the payoff would be worth it.

And what is this “Nevada black mailbox" that I refer to, you may ask? Last I heard, there is a white mailbox along the Nevada State Route 375 highway, also known as Extraterrestrial Highway, which runs not far from Nellis Air Force Base, and is where many UFO sightings are said to occur. Though the mailbox reportedly belongs to a private citizen, many UFO watchers gather there in the nighttime to watch for UFOs in the sky. Our host actually had been posted at Nellis during part of his military career, and he assures us that any “UFO's" there were strictly Earthian aircraft, including experimental and captured enemy aircraft. Even with us real space aliens walking around Earth and being known to everybody and his brother, presumably some people are not satisfied with us, and want to see more aliens-perhaps Klingons or little green men with antennae on their heads. Never mind that we did not come to Earth in a spaceship in the night sky.

As might be expected, dear reader, we animal-people, as well as United States government officials, think little of these UFO enthusiasts, especially ones who view space aliens as being the ones who are going to save Earth and bring humanity, or at least a chosen set of them, into a state of salvation. Never mind that though our world is different, we are in most ways just as bad off as you Earthians. Even our technological development is much the same as humans'. We do not have time travel, we do not have teleportation, we are not telepathic, we do not have immortality or even extended lifetimes, and we do not know the meaning of life any more than you do. I have met with one UFO cult already, and truth be told, they ended up driving me crazy.

Well, I was going to give these alien-watchers a view of some real space aliens, all right. And as we huddled uncomfortably between the seats of the sedan near the floor, and my general friend was making a long and tiring drive, I realized that what we did could get us all into real trouble. As you might have guessed, dear reader, we members of PERC were definitely not supposed to mock human UFO fanatics, even though they were doing nothing to support us. It would be improper to be rude to any of the Earthians-after all it was strictly because of them we were allowed to walk around on this planet, let alone have them feed, shelter, and supply us. And it was not just us animal-people; my general friend was in uniform with official decorations and awards. I did not know United States military law, but I did get the idea that my friend was potentially getting himself into serious trouble, especially as he was such a high-ranking military official. Certainly he must know of the risks involved in his actions? Both he and I and my assistants would certainly be witnessed and possibly even photographed by the people at the black mailbox. What if his superiors frowned upon what he had done? The last thing I wanted was for him to get into serious trouble. However I was bonded to him, he certainly would have told me no if he had not wanted to go through with this, and I would not have blamed him.

But he showed no hesitation whatever in going through with this, and he would probably have been very disappointed if we had backed out. We were all going through discomfort, even though he had the air-conditioning on. The desert we were going through was very hot during the afternoon, but we had put on our warmer outfits because the desert would be very cold at nighttime. I was not familiar with the desert myself, but I took his word for it.

It was a very long drive, and I did not even bother looking at my watch, which was difficult to do in my cramped position anyway, but noticed how the sky got dark-and my human friend kept driving on in silence, never stopping or saying anything. Clearly he had a strong sense of self-discipline, only turning off the air-conditioner when it turned dark. Then we stopped. And I assumed we were at the black mailbox.

“Everyone get out," he announced. “This will be your last chance to relieve yourselves, as I have to make a few preparations."

We got out stiffly, and yes, we did have to relieve ourselves. I noted that he had driven his car well off the side of the highway, and while we relieved ourselves, I saw him attach what looked like official military insignia to the sides of his car. When he finished, he beckoned us back, and we scrambled back inside the car. He drove back onto the highway and continued for some time more, then stopped again.

This time, my friend stepped out of the car and left the driver's door open, though we stayed inside. I knew we were at our destination, for he stood and made his prepared speech about how the people around him would in fact receive the honor of actually receiving a personal visit from the space aliens they had so long been watching for. Hearing him mention the code words, I, Freddy Lynx, Timothy Squirrel, and Billy Otter burst out of the sedan.

I noted at a glance that the UFO watchers were ordinary-looking people dressed in warm clothes, not people in New Age costumes or dirty hippies or anyone else who looked odd. And the motor vehicles around them were pretty ordinary too. But I can tell from long professional and personal experience that nutty people can look perfectly ordinary. And even if these UFO watchers were technically sane, we found these people silly, going near some remote military base and looking at lights in the sky above it and assuming those were alien spacecraft. Never mind that it was a known place where the US Air Force flew its experimental and captured foreign aircraft. Never mind that this was not the place where we came to Earth from our world (and our spaceship did not fly across the sky as such-we came straight down from space). Never mind that we were the space aliens humanity had been waiting for, though logically, since there is us there certainly must be others. Presumably for this set of alien-watchers, we animal-people were a letdown and they still wanted to see green men with three eyes and antennae sticking out of their heads. Perhaps they were looking for aliens who were going to come and solve humanity's problems, rather than us animal-people who could not.

So for the first few moments, we ran around wildly and made silly noises and gestures, acting like foolish small children. When we saw that everyone was looking at us in shock, we got sillier and started to cavort, jumping onto people's cars and bouncing on them, knocking people's hats off if we could reach them, pulling on arms, and tweaking noses. Before the people could react, I gave the signal, and my assistants ran up to the “black mailbox", or rather where it used to be, The original black mailbox had been replaced by a white mailbox generations ago, and even that was gone. All that was left was a broken-off post of faded wood. Still, we circled around it as planned, and suddenly stood still and silent and stared transfixed at it. We deliberately did not glace toward the alien-watchers or anyone or anything else; we had an act to keep up, and we were unsure if we had our audience fooled or not.

Slowly, each of us slowly reached down and gingerly touched the pole. Then we jumped back and screamed, and ran back in mock panic toward our car. We scrambled back in, and the general also making a show of panic jumped back into the car and sped off as fast as he could.

Just a minute or so of silly folderol, but what a rush, dear reader! Partly because, as I mentioned before, each and every one of us could have gotten into serious trouble for this. I and my assistants were professional researchers after all, and this was childish and highly unprofessional behavior on our parts. My human friend did not cavort as we did, but knowing and deliberately aided and abetted what we did, and did so in public in full uniform, and he could face his own consequences. But he showed no sign of hesitation or qualms about what we would do, and my assistants were all willing collaborators as well. If and when we were called before the Earth authorities, what would they think? What would they say or do?

But once we were far enough away, my friend slowed down to a more normal speed, and amazingly no police showed up to stop him for speeding. Either we were lucky, or our friend knew how the local law enforcement operated. In any case, he pulled off the road and we got out again to relieve ourselves, while he removed the false decorations from his car and took off his uniform tunic and necktie, so he now resembled an ordinary driver. We reentered his car and he took us back to his home, and it was not until well into the next day that we arrived there.

We were all very tired, of course, and my friend invited us to sleep in his home. Of course we did, and we went into a spare bedroom to change into sleep shorts while the general went to sleep in his own bedroom. That bed was big enough for all four of us-many of us animal-people are smaller than humans, including my group, so we fit in comfortably enough and slept, all of us waking up when it was late evening.

Surprisingly, my human friend was already up and dressed (in street clothes of course), and he even was making a meal for us, the same as before. This was more than we expected, and after we ate, I was shocked to see my assistants rub themselves against him the way I had done. So was our host, but we all got the idea it was simply gratitude that motivated my assistants and that they had not become bonded to my human friend like I had done. Of course I rubbed against him as the others finished, but decided not to lick him this time. While I would have been glad to have stayed with my friend, I knew it was best if we were gone at that point. We had potentially put not only ourselves but him into trouble as well.

We had one last full day before we had to return to base. We decided to tour an art museum, and later went to see a school production of The Mikado. As might be expected, a number of the jokes flew over our space aliens' heads, but it was enjoyable entertainment nonetheless. When we went to a motel to sleep before we had to head back to base, we were surprisingly able to sleep normally and not wake up too soon or too late.

No calls came to my portable phone from the Director of PERC, so he evidently heard no news about what we did at the “Nevada black mailbox". When we arrived back to PERC, we immediately visited the Director's office, and I told him about everything-except for our illicit visit to the alien-watchers. I merely said that we visited my Air Force general friend, whom he knew about already, and saw no suspicion about our doing so. What did displease him briefly was when he heard about our being escorted out of the convert we attended, and he had great difficulty believing it when I told him the lyrics of “MacArthur Park". He had to look up the song on the internet before he realized I was not pulling his leg. After that, we were dismissed and sent back to our department.

Our colleagues did ask us about our vacation, and of course we told everything we told the Director. (Everyone else thought I was kidding about the lyrics to “MacArthur Park" as well.) It has been some weeks, and no news about our visit to, and taunting of, the alien watchers has come out. But I am not really surprised by this turn of events.

When you think about it, dear reader, all we did was tease people who looked for space alien aircraft in a sky where no animal-people or any other space aliens even went. Our coming to this planet has proved to the Earthians that there really are other worlds like Earth and populated by sentient beings, as well as the fact that anthropomorphic animals cam and do exist in reality. We may not be like Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse or any of those yiff fantasy characters, but we are real.

And I am a fox-person, so how do I compare to my four-legged counterparts? We are genetically related, just as chimpanzees are the closest relatives to you humans among the animals. But chimpanzees are still very different from humans, and a fox-person like myself is much different from a four-legged red fox. In size, we animal-people are much the way we are depicted in the old Hanna-Barbera cartoons, we are covered with fur and have no human-style “hair", females have flat chests and multiple breasts like our four-legged counterparts, our sense of smell is more keen than that of humans, and these are the basic outlines.

Personality-wise, we have various personalities just like four-legged animals do. Some are friendly, some are timid, some are smarter or more agile or stronger than others. I do have an unusual capacity for learning other languages, which was a major reason I was selected to come to Earth, and passed the psychological tests on how to react to various types of behavior among humans. It is why I have become head of the sociological department of our research enter, and even at the beginning I had to go out among a wide variety of humans, which is not at all easy when you are a space alien who knows little about human society. Long experience and humans becoming accustomed to us has made things much easier for me and my colleagues, but it was certainly rough at the beginning.

And that was what motivated my little prank, dear reader-wanting to get back at the idiots who fail to realize just what space aliens really are-not better or worse than you humans, just different, and certainly not coming here to be your saviors. As you might guess, there are animal-people on my world who feel that way about you humans. And my feelings are not unique, for why do you think my assistants and my Air Force general friend (who had put himself at serious professional risk for participating) were so willing to go through all the trouble and danger they did? You may think from reading my accounts that we at PERC have fun adventures in our job, but there is a lot of routine scutwork and tedium and aggravation as well. If I were to tell you a typical day at PERC for me, you would find it rather boring, so I tell you the fun parts we have.

So if you wish your job is as fun as mine, dear reader, be assured that yours is probably not so frightening or aggravating. Unless you are a firefighter or police officer, and I admit none of us at PERC have gotten killed or seriously hurt yet. But sooner or later, something will happen. Just ask the people who were in accidents in the space program. Not a big death list, but I know better than to get complacent. That is why our little practical joke was much more thrilling than I made it sound.