Sorry for the slight hiatus! Life is getting a bit hectic at the moment.
Now that Rick had a pair of boots, like he should–he could even feel the two of them gently massaging his feet, hungry for his sweat and stink–he turned his attention back to the gun, and noticed that one part seemed to be emitting some sparks. A bit concerned, he tapped the side, where a panel had popped off slightly, tried to push it back into place, but when he did, there was a sudden surge of electricity that slammed into him, and he stumbled backwards into a booth and slumped down, unconscious for the moment.
The gun hit the ground, and when it did, the sparks seemed to be getting worse, the gun shaking and spinning on the ground, arcs of yellow electricity leaping in every direction, building up into one large spray of light that shot out of the gun, slamming right into a young man on the dance floor, and sending him stumbling several feet away. He’d arrived to the bar dressed in jeans and a western shirt, and had been an early target of the gun’s creator, making him a bit more…country flavored, with a lip full of chaw, cowboy hat on his head and cowboy boots on his feet. Now, where he was sitting on the floor, feeling rather out of sorts, he looked…quite a bit older than he had before. His face was weathered from years spent outside on various ranches and farms on the rural side of the state, though he liked to come over to the city regularly to let loose at the bars.
A younger man walked over to help the old cowboy daddy up, but as soon as he touched him, there was a static shot that leapt off of the daddy and sunk into the young man, and he began to change as well, his skimpy club clothes becoming well worn jeans and a long sleeve shirt like the man on the ground. More changes followed, a full goatee around his still young face, one lip full of chaw just like the man he helped up–just like his daddy. They embraced, the son glad his dad was alright, and then looked over to where the gun was still spraying sparks and light–just in time to see another blast launch off in a different direction, where it hit a glass on the bar, and it refracted into a wide swath of light, catching two bartenders and the whole wall of liquor in its path.
No one noticed any changes right away, until an older fellow grabbed their affected drink from the bar and took a sip, not noticing as years began to melt away from his face, his body shrinking lightly and becoming more toned, his hips and booty catching the beat on the dance floor as his clothes shifted to something much more revealing. Soon enough, the new twink had finished his drink and joined the throng on the dance floor, though the gun wasn’t finished yet. There was one more blast of light, this one was a wide swath cutting low along the ground, catching several tables and chairs in its path, the furniture beginning to shake and rattle–along with the people sitting on them–and the wood and cloth they had been made off began to warp and discolor, until they were all made from leather and rubber stretched over metal frames.
Before anyone sitting in them, or near them, could do anything, the leather and rubber had come alive, and was wrapping itself around the men sitting on them, or dragging nearby men into a sitting position. They all struggled at first, but as the leather and rubber dissolved their clothes and replaced them, they all began to moan and grind into the strange furniture. Some of them were absorbed entirely, becoming human-esque chairs and tables held in bondage, quaking with desire. Others were simply covered by the substances, their minds warped with new, kinky desires. One in particular, Now a rubber covered gimp wearing a gasmask and covered with leather straps, eyed the gun they had noticed send off the light, and then the rest of the room.
On the floor, the gun had stopped sending off sparks, finally, and the small screen on the side was flashing–Critical Error!–Reboot and Repair. The gun shutdown, and glowed for a moment, as the nanites buried inside went to work, repairing the damage from the fight, and after a few moments, the gun was back to normal–and back online–ready to be used by whoever picked it up next.
Who gets a hold of it next?
- Davie sees the commotion and reclaims the gun.
- The new twink from the dance floor gets it–he’s looking for a daddy play with–and decides to use Rick, still passed out in the booth.
- The rednecks get hold of it, and want a few more guys for their family.
- The gimp gets it, and makes himself a rubber master, and decides to use Davie.
Voting ends Thursday!
Bracken's Corner 