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Rated: XGC · Short Story · Sci-fi · #2221196
I wrote a story. For charity.
The Town Bicycle
By John Alexander Gallin
PJ was having a hard time. He just got too old for college. No degree. And he had a small fortune in student loan debt. His bank account and his fridge were empty. And he was a few days behind on rent.
PJ needed a job. Right now. He was getting desperate.
PJ searched The Internet for a job. While he still had Internet and power. He found something. A charity related job. At the rich part of town.
PJ agreed to everything. He didn't know what all those big words meant.
The next day PJ was at a giant charity office. The Lionheart Foundation. It was a very small skyscraper. In the nicest part of town. The lobby had free drinks and snacks. A werewolf and a kitsune were politely playing chess. Some multicoloured otters were playing cards. A dragon and a unicorn were trying to fix a computer.
PJ felt slightly out of place. Being a roughly average cat. He had a weird colour. Neon yellow and bright brown. And he had a weird mind. But he was a roughly average cat.
PJ waited about an hour. Until everyone else left. The receptionist called him.
"PJ. Your appointment with Professor Lionheart" The receptionist was a Jackalope. And the most beautiful woman PJ had ever seen.
PJ considered hitting on her. But he needed the job. PJ went to Professor Lionheart's office. The exact middle of the building.
Professor Lionheart's office was full of charity merchandise. Everything from certificates to statues. There was the biggest desk in town. And Professor Lionheart.
Professor Lionheart was a lion. In a cheap business suit. He looked generically handsome.
"So you're the new volunteer" he said.
"Sir it's an honour" said PJ.
"No. The honour is mine" said Professor Lionheart.
"Sir. What exactly is my job?" PJ said.
"Transport volunteer" said Professor Lionheart "we need to get you to the garage. to sign some paperwork"
They walked to the garage. There were weird wrenches. Obsolete spare parts. And blatantly toxic oil.
"I need you to sign this" Professor Lionheart said. It was paperwork. That said "MOTORCYCLE INSURANCE". PJ signed it without reading.
"Too late now." Said Professor Lionheart. PJ felt extremely weird.
PJ tried to talk. No words came out. He could barely grunt.
"I never saw someone sign the paperwork so quickly. Usually they resist. Or ask questions" Professor Lionheart started taking off PJs clothes.
PJ could no longer grunt. He could barely twitch.
"I suppose I can tell you. I am transforming you. Into a bicycle. To transport supplies. You're coming along nicely" said Professor Lionheart.
PJ stopped twitching at all.
PJ's buttocks and genitalia merged. Into a bicycle seat. He was now more metallic and angular than a person usually is.
PJ started to grow gears and chains. His organs simplified and simplified. Into pipes.
PJ grew handlebars. Instead of a face.
PJ was a bicycle.
Professor Lionheart took his new conquest on test drive. PJ felt sexual pleasure from being ridden.
PJ enjoyed being between the legs of his owner. He wouldn't want it any other way. He was the town bicycle.

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