This choice: Fang finds himself coming into posession of an experimental Size changing Ray • Go Back...Chapter #4Fang, fully loaded. by: choleric   The last thing Rich, the small but nimble raccoon, had expected to bump into was a 7’ 10’’ wall of muscle sculpted by the unholy combination of hard work and good genetics. He had been running on instinct for half an hour now, exhaustion racking his frame when he dashed around a dingy street corner and directly into a pillar of pure masculinity. Fang, on the other hand, had just left the gym. Muscles burning pleasantly after an intense workout, the wolf, narcissistic as ever, was taking a moment to enjoy his muscular physique in the reflection on the gym windows when he felt something bump into him. Turning and snarling viciously, he peered down from his lofty height to notice a small raccoon begging and pleading for him to not hurt him.
“Thick you can pickpocket me, you little runt?” snapped Fang, spit spattering over the frightened raccoon’s black and grey fur. “Go on, shake out those pockets!” A thickly muscular, black-furred arm shot out to grab Rich by his scruffy shirt. Fang lifted him from the ground with a scowl, Rich watching those intimidatingly huge biceps swell to their full glory.
“Should I just turn you upside down and see what falls out? Don’t keep me waiting, you puny excuse for a mammal.” Fang growled, smug superiority curling the edges of his toothy grin. He was in control of the situation, and boy, did he ever enjoy that.
“T...this is all I have! I swear, I just bumped in to you!” Shaking, the raccoon produced a shining chrome... toy gun? The metal seemed real, but what on earth was it? Grabbing the device in a meaty paw, he dropped the raccoon unceremoniously down to the pavement.
“Now get outta here, before I change my mind about my generous offer.” Fang snarled, less interested in the currently fleeing Rich than on the mysterious raygun he had foisted upon him.
What was it? It barely fit in his oversized paws as it was, but the slender chrome “gun” had a simple interface built onto the handle – a dial with a plus and minus inscribed on either side, and what looked like a fire selector – semi, burst and full automatic settings present and accounting for. Marcus wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, being that he was much too large to fit in the box of crayons in the first place, but he had a few ideas to test out. It probably wasn’t a gun, as far as he concerned – a gun was a gun, and he couldn’t even see where to put the magazine. Besides, guns generally didn’t have volume dials. In the spirit of scientific exploration (boy would his old physics teacher be proud!) he twiddled some knobs, adjusted some settings, took aim and fired, watching as a blast of energy...
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