The Perks Of Being A Stinker - HISTÓRIA EM INGLÊS

Ken rose from bed at 10 o'clock with a strong headache and fuzzy memories of the night before - a very strange sensation for him, who isn't a fan of alcoholic beverages. In fact, his whole body felt weird, with heavy legs, skin glands pouring out more sweat than usual and a stench so terrible that it couldn't be natural. However, the young man soon dismissed it all as the results of the full-night gaming/Monthy Python marathon he just had, and went on to change his clothes.
- Darn it, I really need to stop doing this... - He said, sniffing his armpits. - Ugh... And maybe buy a new deodorant, too.
He threw the sleeveless t-shirt and shorts he spent the night on aside and grabbed a new set from his wardrobe, just to find out that they didn't fit him anymore. Every other combination he tried yielded the exact same result! How weird... It's as his feet changed in shape, his legs grew somewhat bulkier and a strange new appendage popped up on his hip. Ken wanted to check out what the hell happened to his lower body - he really did - but his neck was also aching terribly, preventing him from bending it downwards. Forcing his clothes into his body with a loud "rrrriiiip!", the young adult grabbed a snack and a can of soda at the kitchen before slamming his apartment's door open, thus beggining his daily life once again. First stop: the nearest convenience store.
Closing the door, Ken noticed that the potted plants laying around the floor's rather narrow corridor were wilting quickly, as if someone had sprayed a poison in the building's atmosphere. Scratching his greasy head, the youngster made his way to the dusty old elevator, which was surprisingly empty in what was the city's rush hour. Was the world avoiding him? Nah, that's downright silly. Even with his bad habits and lack of a job, he had good relationships with everyone he knew, which earned him the title of the neighborhood's "friendly skunk". When he reached the lowermost floor, he winked and wished a good morning to the porter as he always did, but the usually smiling fellow had an ugly frown on his face that day, as if he didn't recognize his old bud Ken. "Huh", he thought. "He must be in a bad mood."
Coming out of the building, Ken took a breath of the city's stinky, heavily polluted air as if it came from the Himalaiyas, showing the result of years and years spent on an urban envrionment. The skies were gray, the streets loaded with litter and the people rushing to be capitalist lackeys as usual - yeah, it was a nice day. A perfect day to stay home, too! But first, he had to buy stuff on the convenience store at the corner of his street.
- Good morning, everybody! - Ken said, going through the store's automatic door. - How y'all going? I just stopped by to grab my common necessities...
The young man's jolly demeanor made him ignorant to the mean looks he was getting from the other customers. His black-and-white striped fur, putrid scent and long, bushy tail were a rather common sight... but not on someone of his species.
- So... - he said, giving his purchases to the clerk. - I've got a can of mayo, some soda and a deodorant. How much it's gonna cost?
- Deodorant? Hmph! That's not going to work at all for you, pal... - grumbled the clerk.
- What's that?
- Nah, forget about it. It's going to cost you twenty bucks...
- Twenty bucks?! Shoot, man! Can't you lower the price for your old man Ken?
- Nuh-uh. Not for someone like you.
- Darn it...
Ken reluctantly paid for the merchandise, leaving his puny little wallet completely empty and prompting a sudden change of mood. On his way to the closest ATM, he grabbed the attention of someone who in many ways was similar to him, but in other ways was completely different. The slim black-and-white individual started following him after he crossed the alley he was chilling on, interested in the quasi-human's peculiar scent.
"Oh man, not one of those!", Ken thought, looking behind him. "I'd better speed up my pace, or else..."
- He-hey, wait up! - Ken's follower yelled, still a few steps away from him.
Ken sighed deeply and turned around to face his assailant - an average-height, bushy-tailed striped skunk!
- Heheh! Glad to see another 'tinker around these parts o'town! - He said. His sloppy clothing - a black leather jacket over a sleeveless red t-shirt, a pair of worn-out, rugged jeans and some weird sneakers - and odd speech pattern indicated that he was born in and lived on one of the city's many boroughs.
- And by 'tinker you mean?...
- Stinker! Skunk! Y'know, like you 'n me!
- Awwww, c'mon! - Ken said, sniffing his armpits again. - I'm not smelling as bad as a skunk... Am I?
- Oh, y'sure are! You even look like one, too!
- I do?
Ken, utterly confused by what the skunk was assuming about him, decided to turn around and take a gander at himself through the city's river. Holy stinky cheese! The fur, the paws, the muzzle, the tail, the stripes - he definetely became a skunk from head to toe! The shock was so big that, besides doing what any member of his newfound species would do at a moment like that - spray bad-smelling oils everywhere -, the first thing that came to the young mephit's mind was suicide, and well, he did just that by throwing himself into the stream of water right behind him.
- Whoa! Hang in there, dude! - The skunk said, jumping at the notice of Ken's attempt at drowning himself. - You look waaaaaay too young to die!
- But... But I want to! I don't want to be a smelly vermin for my whole life!
- Sheez, man! Lemme help ya...
The "pure-blooded" skunk held Ken's arms tightly, pulling him back to the crosswalk in no time. His breathing was violent, and his look desperate. How the heck did this happen to him, apparently overnight?!
- How... Why... When?...
- Awwww, calm down, bro! Y'seem to be scared of your own reflection!
- B-but I am!
- Huh?
- I swear that last night I was a completely normal human! Just what happened to me, and why?
- Ah, now everything makes sense! - The skunk said, patting Ken's back. - There, there. Y'better get that crazy idea of drowning yourself offa your head... After all, it won't even work if y'try it on dis river!
- It won't?
- Eeeeeyup! We skunks are immune to pollution, y'know - if ya hopped in there, y'would be still be able to breathe for quite some time because of the filth!
- How does that even work?!
- Ahhh, it's one of the many perks of bein' a stinker! Sorry for not introducing mahself - the name's Zillion! 'N yours is?...
- Ken.
- Well then, Ken! Even though I'm a bit busy right now, I'm glad to offah sum help to someone like you! Just follow me!
- Yeah, sure. Whatever.
Zillion adjusted his trusty backpack on his shoulders and went on his way home, with Ken lagging behind, still getting used to the weight of his big, bushy tail. "Okay, I'll get used to it... Someday. I think.", he thought. As the two mephits delved deeper into the city's ghetto, Ken noticed how different a skunk's disposition was from a normal human's. The streets they were walking through was completely covered with litter, holes and deformities of all kinds, the river was filthier than ever, with all kinds of garbage floating on it and sewage - both daily and industrial - being mindlessly pumped on it, and the buildings he saw were rather cramped and run-down. However, the skunks who lived there were rather lively, jogging, dancing, talking and listening to music on the streets. Admittedly, he was beggining to take a fondness for them.
- Well, here we are! - Zillion said, stopping right in front of a building just like all the others from the borough. - This is where mah apartment is. Wanna come in?
- Yeah, for sure!
Zillion, smiling at Ken, opened the building's old wooden door and got his keys, swishing his tail and moving his hips. In fact, the skunk always busted some pretty cool moves as he walked, as if there was a tiny little jukebox playing some groovy tunes inside him and he was following it's beats. He then stopped in front of Room 110, revealing what looked and smelled more like a small dump than anything else as he opened the door. Apparently, this was his apartment. "Man, and I thinking my room was a mess...", Ken thought, trying not to step on anything as he entered the tiny residence. What a cool mess it was, though! Unlike his apartment, who mostly had daily junk laying around, Zillion's had all kinds of neat stuff on the floor - comics, old videogames, even some vinyls!
- Ahhhh! Home, sweet home! - Zillion said, throwing his big backpack on the bedroom's small, uncomfortable-looking bed. The skunk then procceeded to raise his tail and let go the species' characteristic foul spray, as if to mark his territory. Ken, who was highly allergic to strong smells, surprisingly didn't even wince at the putrid scent... In fact, he kind of liked it!
- Cool apartment you've got here. - Ken said, crouching to look at Zillion's stuff.
- Heheh, I'm glad ya like it! I've been living here for three years or so.
- Hmmm, I see...
Ken, already feeling at home in such a mess, decided to lay a bit on what looked like a bed table. Right as he did it, however, thumping electronic beats began to be spat out of it, prompting the newbie skunk to spray and jump away from his resting place. It turns out that it wasn't a bed table, but rather Zillion's custom-built vinyl soundsystem!
- Ack! You young 'uns and your loud demonic music!
- Oh shuddup, grandma! - Zillion said, frantically mashing the soundsystem's buttons.
- I'm s-sorry, Zillion! I really am! I thought it was a bed table, so...
- ...You layed on it? Don't worry, Ken, it also happens aaaaaall the time with me! Now, lemme turn this off...
The pure-blooded skunk finally managed to turn his contraption off after five minutes or so of mashing button combinations, calming down a bit just to get angry at the old lady from upstairs again.
- Are you happy now, eh granneh?! - Zillion said, hanging his head out of the tiny living room's sole window.
- I'll only be happy on the day you darn youngsters stop listening to this evil music from hell and learn to be nice to the seniors!
- Hey! Don't yo DARE talk like this about Detroit Techno! Detroit Techno represents peace, the unification of people and EEEEYOUCH!
- Whoa! Zillion, what happened?!
- Argh! Didja see what that darn hag did? She threw a friggin' flower pot on mah head! A. FRIGGIN'. FLOWER POT! Hnnnngh! Ah so, SO want to spray her right in da face!
- Geez, you really need to simmer down, man...
Ken pulled Zillion away from the window, helping him get some of the ground off his messy white hair. He supressed a laugh at the small pink flower that stood perfectly still over the pure-blooded skunk's head when he noticed his white chest markings, something uncommon among civilized of his species.
- Yeah... I definetely need something cold t'drink!
- That's not what I meant...
Zillion shook his head out of Ken's hands and checked out the apartment's tiny fridge only to find out that there was nothing to drink... again.
- Shoot! Nuffin' in here... - The chest-marked skunk said, slamming his fridge's door. - I really, really need to go grab some stuff on da Skunk's Tail bar...
- Skunk's Tail Bar? Well, I'm not much into alcohol.
- Ah, don't ya worry! It's a pretty nice place. I bet you'll like it!
Smiling, Zillion grabbed his backpack again and opened the apartment's door, swishing his big skunk tail. With a wink, he told Ken to follow him, an order that the ex-human followed with a sigh. After a few minutes of walking through the burrough, a flashy, 80's-style neon sign reading "The Skunk's Tail" popped into the wandering skunks' view, spraying it's red-and-white glow on the small wall it was fixed in. There was a small door with a rather big hole right below it, which Zillion procceeded to knock.
- Who are you? - asked a booming-yet-friendly voice coming from behind the door.
- Ah, stop fooling around, Ricky! Of course y'know who I am - Zillion Shard, your best client! C'mon, open da door fo'me!
- Hmmm... There may be more than one person with this name, y'know. Prove that you're my old bud Zillion, the smelliest skunk in town!
- Oh, you want proof? ah'm gonna give ya some proof!
Angry at Ricky's teasing - of course he knew there was only one Zillion Shard, darn it! -, the city's smelliest skunk raised his tail with his back turned to the door and sprayed it with all his might. "Man, that must really stink... for non-skunks!", Ken thought.
- So, did I make mahself clear now, Ricky?
- Hmmmm... Come on in, fella. And please, don't call me Ricky...
- Awoooooo! Ken, come on in!
Zillion jumped into the bar, and Ken would follow him if the door wasn't slammed on his face, preventing his entrance.
- H-hey! What's up with this?! - the ex-human said, surprised.
- Sorry, bud, but you can't enter until you prove skunk-hood...
- Prove my...? Oh, no. You don't mean I actually have to...
- Yeah, I do. If you wanna go in, you gotta do it. Security measures, y'see.
- Oh man. This is the first time I do it intentionally, so I hope it's successful...
Ken sighed, turned his back to the bar's door, raised his big fluffy tail and sprayed, feeling the warm, bubbling amber chemicals go from his lower insides to his butt to be finally expelled in a fetid shower. He then fell to the ground, on fours, breathing heavily. He never tought spraying would be so tiring, especially since he sees skunks do it all the time!
- H-hey, bud! You can come on in now... - Ricky said, going out and grabbing Ken's mostly limp body by the arms.
- Darn it, Richard! Darn it! Can't you see he's a newbie? He's not used to this kinda stuff!
- Yeah, I can see by his face now... There's some definetely human traces on him. I'm sorry, Zilly. I should paid more attention...
- Nah, don't worry 'bout it! Just grab him a chair next to mine...
Richard nodded, grabbing a chair on the small bar's center table for the novice skunk to sit on, letting his weak body lay on it. The place wasn't as flashy as the entrance sign suggested it to be, instead being an almost cavernous locale with its tables, counter and stools being carved in stone and a small door leading to what was probably a pantry/freezer. What made it different from other estabilishments of its kind was the horrid smell of skunk that reigned over the atmosphere, with the few windows it had shut to keep the scent inside.
- You didn't need to spray so much back there, y'know. - Zillion said, sitting next to Ken with two bottles of beer in hand.
- It's that... I couldn't control it...
- Nah, don't worry! It happened quite a few times with me, too. - The skunk opened one of the bottles for himself and gives the other to Ken. - C'mon, drink some!
- Beer?
- Yeah, the best in town - double bock! I bet it'll make ya feel better!
- Well, if you say so...
Ken reluctantly opened his bottle, giving the amber liquid inside a sniff before procceeding to drink it. He had some bad experiences with alcohol before, promising himself that he would never drink any of the stuff again after the most recent one, but boy... This one was irresistible! A cold, delicious amber liquid gently going down his throat, freshening it - he really needed that after that crazy day!
- This is... This is!...
- Delicious, ain't it? Really ups tha mood!
- Yeah! I've drank a lot of beer before, but none ever tasted so good!
- Heheh. Your taste must be already a stinker's, then - they're fine-tuned to booze, y'know.
- Really?! Man, how could all of my body change so much on a single night?
- Waitwaitwait. Y'mean you went from human to full-on skunk... on a single night?
- Well, in a night and two hours... I think I went through RT - Representative Transformation. Have you ever heard of it?
- Yup, but I never cared enough.
- Yeah, me neither - and now look how I am!
- Boy! For all of this to happen on such a short span 'o time, your room and living habits must be really innapropriate for a human!
- What?! So you say you brought a HUMAN here?!
Another skunk - one that Ken and Zillion didn't see - suddenly rose from his chair on the northwestern edge of the bar, walking up to Zillion and grabbing him by the nape of his loose t-shirt. With the agressor's tall, muscular build looming over him, holding his friend defenseless, Ken felt weak. Of course he, being a skunk, could spray that bully down from head to toe, but he was also a skunk! That would be useless!
- Wh-whoa, dude! Calm down! - Zillion said, trying to find a way to escape the brute's grasp and pointing to Ken. - He went through a transformation! C-can't ya see he's one of us now?
- One of us?! He may have the appearance and the scent of a Mephitis mephitis, but he still has human blood running through him!
- Ummm... Zillion? M-maybe it's better for me to leave...
- Nah, stay here! I'm gonna find a way to make this chump leave us alone!
- I-if you say so...
Ken sat down to watch the discussion, holding his urge to spray aback as much as he could. Even though Zillion tried to hide his fear of the oppressor with a goofy grin and his usual urbanspeak, the excessive sweat and poofed-up tail made it quite apparent. A skunky crowd urging for a bar brawl was quickly forming around the confusion. The muscle-mephit's grip on the jacket-clad skunk's neck kept getting stronger and stronger... "I have to get out of here right now!"
Ken bursted through the striped, bushy-tailed crowd, pushing away anyone that got in his way. Upon getting out of the building, he sat down, crying, noticing the "FOR PURE-BLOODED SKUNKS ONLY!" sign planted in it's only visible wall. How could he do that? His own bad habits, racism and lack of attention may have killed Zillion, his only true friend! He could hear the violence going on inside through the bar's thick stone walls, with more and more people of his kin joining from outside. "Why are they beating up Zillion if I am the cause of all this mess?", he asked himself. Taking his share of responsability, the skunk wiped the tears out of his face and got ready to go into the bar once again, being interrupted by a familiar hand on his right shoulder.
- Where do you think you're going, stinker?
- Z-Zillion!
The two skunks locked themselves into a strong embrace, happy to see each other again after that brief moment of tension that seemed to last forever. Although Ken was fine, Zillion had a black eye and a swollen cheek - traces of a very violent bar brawl.
- Zillion, your... Your...
- Ah, y'mean this? It's nuffin' to write home about, really. - the skunk said, trying to hide his face. - It just happens that that crude dude was punch-drunk, just as ah thought. Soon after y'left, he jumped over me, getting all the people around us into tha fight too! Thankfully Ricky helped me out by leading me to tha back door. I really owe one to that guy!
- And I owe one to you, man!
- Y'do?
- Of course I do! If it wasn't for you, I'd be seriously depressed or even dead once I discovered what happened to me! Meeting you, Richard and all the people who live around here has broadened my vision on what's good on life, and now I feel like I was always meant to be a skunk!
- Y'know, many people feel like you do, so be happy to know that you're part of a community, with people like me and Ricky always happy to help dudes like you!
- Awww, Zillion...
Ken gave Zillion a big, painful bear hug, but the pure-blooded skunk didn't do anything to prevent it - he knew Ken was a friend and didn't mean to hurt him.
- So, when will we meet again?
- Ah, I dunno. It's kinda late now, so I hafta go home...
- Yeah, you're right. So... Until next time, then?
- Yup.
With a handshake, Zillion left Ken alone in the ghetto. Even though it was the first time the newbie skunk visited that specific part of town, he felt as it was his true home and that he always belonged there. Following the quickest route to downtown and grabbing some much-needed money from an ATM on the way, he got home at 10 PM, surprisingly not sleepy. He was very happy, as he could see a bright future for him, what with the perks of being a stinker.

The Dawn Of Mephisto - História em Inglês

  Kyle looked down at his watch quietly. 16 o'clock. He was waiting there for more than ten minutes. Not because his host was late, but because of his typical earlyness. "It's always better to be early than to be late", he thought. "Especially when dealing with the boss."
His train of thought was taken off the tracks by the sound of loud steps and desperate panting coming from the corridor's other end. He already knew who was coming, but he turned his head to see him anyway. Messy white "hair", pink nose, stretched muzzle, black-and-white striped fur, with that huge fluffy tail right behind... "Hmph. Late as always.", he thought.
- Kyle? You're here too?!
- I ask the same to you, Zillion. Late as always, huh?
Zillion finally reached the massive dual-handed black door and stood next to Kyle, breathing deeply and bending his back and legs to rest.
- Well, I was finishing the daily inspection back at the factory. Y'know, to check if everything is nice 'n dirty.
- Inspection? You don't fool me, Zillion. Never fooled me. You were probably sleeping, being the lazy vagabond you are...
- Hey! Don't blame me for being naturally nocturnal! Don't forget that YOU are a skunk too!
- First off, only FERALS are CREPUSCULAR - not nocturnal! And I'm hog-nosed, while you are striped! We are from completely different species!
- Oh yeah? But did you know that striped skunks smell the worst!?
- If you're so sure of it, why don't you prove it?
- AHEM!
The two skunks, with their tails and fists raised, were surprised by their boss' sudden appearance. His tall, white-and-black, snappily-dressed form stood proud among the two other mephits, imposing an atmosphere of dominance over his factory workers.
- Tsk, tsk. Fighting for no reason again, eh?
- No reason? Mr. Stenich, he came to meet you at the last possible moment...
- Pfft! And you stood here for half an hour, just waiting for him to show up! Coming late is MUCH better than this!
- Now, now! Stop your foolish discussion, you two! Kyle, your act was very admirable and it has once again shown your undying loyalty to me...
- Thank you, sir.
- ...And now for you, Zillion. I am actually surprised that you managed to come here on time, as you tend to be two minutes late for all of your duties here at Stenich Co..
- Heh! Y'could say I'm getting better all the time!
- Most importantly, you two didn't need to start a discussion over scent, as both of you know very well that I smell the worst among our biological family!
Samuel Stenich walked around the two other skunks, brushing his reeking white tail on their noses in order to show them his much-worse-than-usual stench. Zillion loved it, but Kyle found it to be absolutely disgusting, even though he could smell just as bad occasionally.
- So... Why did you call us, boss? - Kyle said, trying to change the subject.
- Well, I have a very important subject to share with you two and nobody else.
- Why is that? Is it because we're your friends or sumthin'?
- Friends? Pah, of course not. Friendship interferes in business! It's just that you are my best polluter, Zillion, while Kyle is my most dedicated factory worker. Come on in, please.
Samuel closed the office door, sitting behind his desk while his "friends" sat on the two chairs at the front, facing their boss. Kyle was visibly nervous and worried, as any worker from a big company would be when directly facing it's owner and CEO, while Zillion was relaxed as usual. "He doesn't care about anything related to work, that lazy bastard!", Kyle thought, glancing at Zillion.
- As you must know, I'm in the proccess of expanding Stenich Co.'s to the ancient land of Egypt. - the millionaire skunk said, expanding a map over his workspace. - It's going great, much like all of my business decisions so far, with a very noticeable increase in income and, most importantly, in pollution. The desert's skies are black with smog, and the world-famous Nile is now deeply intoxicated with industrial waste!
- That's quite an achievment, Mr. Stenich, considering how the country is poor when it comes to resources for industrial manufacturing.
- Of course it is! Since it's urban orient is already part of my economical empire's territory, Stenich Co. is currently focused on settling factories to the west of Cairo - that is, the desert.
- So this means you're messin' with the pyramids, heh? Better watch out for the Pharaoh's Curse, boss! Hahahahaha!
- I know, Zillion, I know. *ahem* Anyway, reports indicate that the excavators I hired to prepare the terrain and underground wastepipe system have found an uncharted tomb at the digging site, and inside this tomb yet another discovery was made...
Samuel spun his chair 90 degrees to the right, bending over to get something from inside a crate that was by his side. After some fussing and digging, he put an average-sized black garbage bag on the desk, confusing his two workers.
- Uhhh... Mr. Stenich, such "discovery" is a garbage bag...
- Yeah, just like the ones spread everywhere around the world. I thought you were already familiar with them by this point, boss!
- Indeed it is a seemingly common bag of detritus, my friends, but it's former resting place wasn't common at all, as it was found standing on some kind of altar deep inside the aftermentioned tomb. You don't find garbage laying around ancient altars, do you?
- Ehhhh... I dunno, maybe it's a leftover from a raid or something like that.
- I hate to agree with him, Mr. Stenich, but Zillion has a point. Nowadays, it's common knowledge that Egypt is crowded with thieves and criminals of all kinds, including raiders. Maybe one of the latter stole whatever artifact that altar guarded and put the trash produced during it's journey in it's place.
- But wouldn't that make the tomb mapped, Kyle?
Right as the hog-nosed skunk was going to try to answer such tricky question, the big grandfather clock to the west of the room rang, signaling the end of Zillion and Kyle's turn. Samuel took notice, sighing.
- My, my. Is it five o' clock already?
- It does seem so, mister.
- Oh, it sure is! Buh-bye, folks! See ya monday!
Zillion got his backpack and started to walk to the door, with Kyle following soon after.
- Wait! Zillion! Kyle! Our conversation isn't over yet!
- But our work is, boss.
- Zillion once again is right, Mr. Stenich. We, as factory workers, have the right to leave your so-called "domain" when our turn is over...
- No! You have! Stay here, I demand!...
Before the bossy businessman could finish his sentence, his two subordinates already left his office, slamming the door behind him. Only the garbage bag from Egypt stayed with Samuel.
Samuel and the garbage bag, the garbage bag and Samuel.
The white skunk always has had a strange passion for any kind of pollution, but this bag of filth... This one was different. It attracted him, but not in the way any other does. He somehow felt that that specific pack of pollutants was very special, very powerful... A key for his plan's success. Eager to discover the secrets it held, he used all the tricks under his sleeve - scissors, swiss army knifes, even his own rarely-used claws - to try to rip it apart, with no success. The mephit attempted to attain it's power numerous times, and eventually his loyal butler James Rodeham took notice of the noise coming from upstairs.
- Master Stenich? - James asked, slowly coming into his boss' office. The old rat has served the Stenich bloodline for generations, and thus was used to his young master's powerful stench. - Don't you think it's time for you to stop working for today?
- Why should I, James? It's still five o'clock!
- I don't think so, young sir. Take a look outside.
Samuel turned around to face his office's massive glass window, noticing the sky was dark and the moon was up high. It was past midnight already! Stenich suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to sleep, yawning loudly.
- It's time for you to rest, dear sir. - James said, taking off his boss' suit and fitting him with a robe. - The factories open early tommorrow.
- Indeed, James, indeed... It's just that I was trying to open this plastic bag for some time, as I feel that...
- It's nothing but a regular garbage bag, sir, and thus belongs to the same place as it's brethren...
James patted Samuel's back and guided him to his bedroom, throwing the bag in the pile of garbage outside soon thereafter. "Good night, Master Stenich", he said, turning the lights off and closing the door. One thing was certain: this was going to be a very good night for Samuel.
Smog, garbage, sludge - what we view as pollution he views as food. The place had plenty of it, more than enough to fully power him up. At last, it was time for him to re-awaken.
Bursting out of the garbage bag, the living pool of toxins completely covered the thrash heap it was residing on, assimilating all of it's content into the shape of a tall, sinister striped skunk. The creature took a deep breath, filling it's insides with smog. After spending thousands of years imprisioned, He walks on Earth again, ready to completely cover the globe with filth as he always wanted to... But what's that? A deliciously putrid scent fills his toxic nostrils, grabbing his attention like no other stench ever did before. Using it's heightened senses, the immortal being found it's source: the powerful (in mortal means) young skunk known as Samuel Stenich. Assuming the form of a vile serpent, the supernatural mephit crawled through his mansion's marble walls, reaching his target while leaving a thick trail of sludge behind. He was a selfish, ruthless being from a higher plane of existence, but even he understood that mortals needed rest. Instead of waking the white polluter as his impulses demanded him to, he instead decided to sleep with him, absorbing his utter reek in order to get stronger and stronger.
Samuel Stenich woke up with what he likes the most in this world - pollution. His room's atmosphere was brimming with smog and the rancid stench of sludge and garbage, and everything was OK except for the other skunk sleeping alongside him.
- Egad! - Stenich shouted, spraying and jumping from his bed. - W-who are you, and how you've got here? It's impossible to penetrate my domains without my authorization, especially at night...
- Hehehe... I didn't need to penetrate thessssse domainssss...
The intruder, who awakened with Samuel's musk showering his body, rose up from bed with astounding flexibility and walked over to the classy skunk, who was trembling with fear yet apprecciating the putrid scent he emanated.
- ...Which happen to be mine by right...
- Yours by right?! This industrial complex has been a property of the Stenich family for generations, and I, being Samuel STENICH Moufette II, am it's rightful heir, you... you...
Before finishing that sentence, Samuel carefully analyzed the foul-smelling creature upon him. It's stature was similar to his own, and while he had the typical black-and-white striped "fur" of a skunk, glowing tribal tattoos somewhat resembling smokestacks and industrial waste pipes were spread through his body. His snake-like eyes and tongue were of a sickly green color, as if they were made from raw toxic sludge. He grinned at the albino skunk's utter confusion, at the same time noticing his interest on him.
- You don't havvvvvve any idea offfff who I am, issssssn't it, mortal?
- I most certainly don't, and I have no interest on knowing your identity as long as you don't interfere with my business!
- I certainly won't, mortal, asssssss long asssss you keep feeding me...
- Feeding you? But I'm not even involved in the food industry! Well, not yet, as I am planning to...
Samuel turned around to see his unexpected guest joyfully gulping down the contents of his bedroom's thrash bin, letting off a loud burp afterwards. So that's how he "fed" him! He ate garbage - and possibly more!
- J-just who - or WHAT - are you?!
- I, mortal, am Mephisssssto Nedbamet, Egyptian God Of Pollution...
God Of Pollution? Samuel knew that garbage bag held some secrets, but he didn't expect it to carry a living being - especially one as powerful as a god...
- ...I wasssss the mosssssst powerful god in the whole empire, but the other godsssss... Isssissssss, Anubisss and all the othersssss... Upssssstaged a rebellion againsssst me with the help of the humanssss... They hated and ffffeared me, refusssssing to admit I wassss the sssssuperior god...
- And then they sealed you in that plastic bag, I suppose?
- Yesss... I wasssss sealed on a ssssssacred jar, and due to my attemptssss to esssscape through the centuriesssss it eventually metamorphed into a bag offff filthhh...
- What an interesting transformation. - Samuel said, suiting up for yet another day of pollutive work. - I guess your powers as the God Of Pollution influenced it?
- Yesss, and eventually they helped my esssscape too... The abundance of fffffilth in your domainssss gave me enough power to break through my seal'ssss myssssstical barrierssss... I am thankful to you, mortal...
Stenich finished putting his clothes on, grinning as Mephisto said his last words. He thought of himself as a honest businessman, but he knew the benefits the of manipulation very well.
- Then I guess you could do a favor or two for me, eh?
- Yessss, mortal. Assss long asssss it'sssss in my powersssss...
- Oh, it sure is, Mephisto. I think we share some similarities.
- How dare you compare yourself to me, mortal?!
- Calm down, mister. Please accompany me, then sit down and listen...
Samuel patted Mephisto's back and guided him to his office, noticing that the God's whole body was composed by a foul mixture of all of the world's liquid, solid and gas pollutants. The factories weren't open yet, so nobody noticed Mr. Stenich's and his strange new "associate" walk around the estate.
- Well then, my dear god... - the white skunk said, sitting on his chair and offering one for Mephisto to sit in. - We both are powerful mephits hated by the populace who wish to cover the entire globe in filth...
- Ssssssso you're sssssaying that you producccce all thhhissss delicioussss ssssmog, sssludge and garbage... on purposssse?
- I quite do, mister. My grand-grand-grandfather founded Stenich Corporations in 2013 with the objective of setting a new standard for large-scale factories - a 100% green, ecological standard. He took the smog filters used in industrial smokestacks of the time and, using his mechanical and chemical know-how, perfected them in order to leave absolutely 00.0% fumes unfiltered. Many factories around the world adopted it in less than a year after the commercial release of the first batch, thus making Mr. Maximilian Stenich, which was obviously a skunk, the world's first developed-animal millionaire... I guess you were never exposed to skunks before?
- Indeed... It'sssssss thhhe firsssssst time I ssssee sssssomeone like you, ssssso ssssssimilar to me...
- Well, it just happens that our species - both feral and developed - is one of the world's most hated and discriminated, even before the Animal Revolution Of 2015. In the eyes of the general populace, we are destetable vermin who do nothing but reek of the foulest pollutants... But what it doesn't see is that our stench is actually an incredibly useful tool - a tool for pollution!
- You are ssssstarting to peak my interesssst, mortal...
Samuel grinned evily. His plans were working - as they always did.
- Think with me, Mephisto. Our species' musk is often described as a natural defense system, like the sharp claws and fangs many other animals have, even though nowadays we have much more efficient weapons like firearms, blades and martial arts in our disposal. Respectable human biologist Charles Darwin once said that all living beings eventually lose some of their traits as they adapt to the envrionment, and as you can see - Stenich said, showing Mephisto a photo of a feral skunk he had in his desk - these sayings proved to be true...
- Ssssso you are ssssssaying our kin ssssshouldn't reek nowadaysssss?
- Exactly! But we still do, don't we? Even after decades of evolution, we skunks are cursed with this horrid putrescence, as if it's eternally bound to us, even though we don't "need" it anymore!
- But why sssssshould one wissssh not to possssssessss sssssuch potent polluting powersssss?
- Aha! That's my point, Mephisto! Most skunks tend to see our special ability as a curse, but in fact it's a blessing - and a very powerful one, at that! According to my studies, our scent is highly pollutive, being capable of intoxicating air, water and ground when sprayed properly - and that is the key to my plans! If we skunks successfully spread pollution of any kind all around the world, it'll reek! And if it reeks, nobody will notice our stench anymore! Hahahaha!
Samuel let off a massive spray of excitement with his last words, musking up all his office. And Mephisto loved it, of course - his "co-worker"'s scent was much, much stronger than any other skunk's, fully feeding him within seconds of exposure.
- So, Mephisto... What do you say we make a deal? - Stenich said, extending his hand to the God. - You use your filthy powers to collaborate with my plans of skunk domination, while I use my factories and my scent to pollute even more and subsequently feed you... It's a win-win situation, after all.
- Yesssss, of courssssse it issssss, mortal. I acsssssept your deal...
- Yes! YES! Together, we'll be unstoppable! To the glory of our kin!
- To the glory of our kin!
Without thinking twice, Samuel and Mephisto shook hands with one another. An alliance was made - an alliance that will completely intoxicate the world!

Caindo Do Céu–Prólogo

 

CAINDO DO CÉU

Prólogo: Meia Década

Serelepe estava observando a noite nos céus límpidos de Animália. Ao seu lado estavam seus melhores amigo, Ranulfo e Ratzy, e sua namorada oficial, Serena. Na época do "Primeiro Confronto", como a batalha contra Gadolfa ficou registrada na história da paradisíaca ilha, todos tinham 16 anos. Agora o grupo tinha 21 anos.

- Eu nem acredito. - Disse Serelepe, observando as estrelas. - Eu nem acredio que cinco anos se passaram desde o conflito...

- Realmente - Comentou Ratzy, mexendo nas conchas da areia. - Parece que era ontem que eu trabalhava para Gadolfa...

- Viver em um lugar dominado por árvores é mil vezes melhor que viver naquela maldita cidade. - Disse Serena, que estava vivendo em uma floresta pela primeira vez em sua vida.

- Aqui, voar de balão é muito mais fácil. - Disse Ranulfo, observando o ponto de pouso que ele construiu no centro da ilha. - E graças a ajuda do povo daqui, eu realizei meu sonho de ter meu próprio ponto de pouso e oficina.

- É... Viver em Animália é realmente muito legal...- Disse Serelepe, rolando na areia para olhar nos olhos de seus próximos. - Mas vocês se lembram do que existia logo ao lado de Megatrópolis?

O barulho das ondas foi o único som ouvido por alguns minutos depois da pergunta de Serelepe. Cinco longos minutos depois, Ranulfo decidiu se pronunciar.

- Eu me lembro. - Comentou o sapo, ficando pé em suas duas pernas de pau. Ele perdeu sua última perna natural durante a construção do ponto de pouso. - Ao lado de Megatrópolis, havia a Floresta.

- Sim, a floresta... - Disse Serelepe, lentamente se levantando. Ratzy e Serena também o acompanharam. - O lugar onde eu nasci... Minha verdadeira casa... Destruída por Gadolfa...

- Realmente, deve ter sido uma perda muito triste. - Disse Serena, abraçando seu namorado.

- Pra falar a verdade, não foi uma perda tão grande.

- Porquê você diz isso, Serelepe? - perguntou Ratzy, curioso.

- Pensem bem. O que árvores soltam?

- Sementes?

- Exatamente! E o que sementes se tornam?

- Novas árvores?

- Sim! Nessa meia década desde nossa fuga da região de Megatrópolis, a floresta pode estar...

- De volta a vida? Mas os tratores de Gadolfa arruinaram o solo!

- É mesmo. Eles devem ter esmagado todas as sementes!

- Mas algumas podem ter sobrevivido.

- Muito improvável. Você se lembra do tamanho daquelas coisas?

- Sim, mas sementes são extremamente resistentes!

- Desista, Serelepe. Não há mais vida lá.

- Sem falar que o Mestre Bisão não permitiria uma viagem tão arriscada...

- Ah, é? Então eu vou falar com o Mestre! Sozinho!

Serelepe correu e se embrenhou na mata, chorando. Mesmo sabendo que o velho Bisão não deixaria Serelepe sair da ilha, Ranulfo, Serena e Ratzy resolveram segui-lo. Ao chegarem no trono do velho, se esconderam atrás de um tronco caído, observando a fervorosa discussão.

- Por favor, Senhor Bisão! - Implorava Serelepe. - Deixe-me voltar para minha terra natal! Deixe-me rezar por minha mãe onde ela morreu! Se a floresta já estiver recuperada, nós poderíamos torná-la uma segunda Animália!

- Guilherme, vulgo Serelepe - Disse o mestre, com sua típica voz ao mesmo tempo rígida e suave. - Embora seus fins sejam os mais nobres possíveis, eu não posso permitir que nenhum de nós se arrisquem, especialmente alguém tão importante na história da ilha como você.

- Realmente, os mares entre aqui e lá são extremamente tempestuosos. - Comentou Ranulfo, saindo de trás do tronco. Serena e Ratzy o acompanharam. - Se lembra de nossa primeira viagem da balão para cá?

- É, sem falar que Megatrópolis é desértica agora. - Falou Ratzy. - Todos os animais lá participaram do Êxodo Marinho, pelo o que eu me lembre!

- Além do mais - Disse Serena, apresentando uma atitude de ordem. - Você pode muito bem rezar para a dona Calda de Açúcar aqui mesmo em Animália. Aposto que ela prefere que você fique aqui, onde quer que ela esteja.

Agora, Serelepe estava chorando ainda mais. Quatro argumentos contra um realmente não deve fazer bem para a mente de um animal.

- Então é isso? - Perguntou Serelepe, gritando. - Vocês todos não querem voltar para seus berços por causa de falta de esperança? Pois saibam que eu acredito que o mar irá me ajudar! E também que ainda há animais de bom coração lá, que não conhecem Animália! E Serena... Minha mãe está no CÉU, e sempre estará! Boa noite para todos, e passar bem! Hmph!

Serelepe saiu enfezado da sala de reuniões, chutando e empurrando as plantas no caminho para sua cama. Ele planejava sair sozinho da ilha, mas sabia que todos estavam o observando e impediriam sua fuga de alguma maneira. Decidiu adiar sua escapada para a manhã do próximo dia.

Após uma noite de noite de sono muito perturbada devido ao medo de que o povo de Animália o prenda na ilha, Serelepe acorda e olha por seu redor. Ranulfo, Ratzy e Serena estavam dormindo profundamente a seu redor, e não havia sinal de outros animais. No céu, o sol estava timidamente mostrando seus primeiros raios, com a lua ainda à tona. Serelepe decidiu que agora era a hora perfeita de escapar. Subiu em árvores à procura de comida, fez um cantil com um coco caído, pegou um velho bote do ponto de pouso de Ranulfo e partiu. No caminho para a praia enquanto carregava tudo aquilo, Serelepe sem querer tropeçou em Serena, que acordou tarde demais e via seu querido partir no oceano.

- Serelepe! - Disse ela, extendendo eua mão e correndo. Todos os animais de Animália agora a seguiam.

- Não vá! É perigoso demais! - Gritou Ranulfo, tentando correr com suas pernas de pau.

- Serelepe! Por favor me desculpe por brigar com você ontem! Não vá!...

- É tarde demais, pessoal... O mar já está me levando... E como eu já disse, eu preciso ir...

Após suas palavras, Serelepe sumiu na neblina. Aquela manhã estava muito nublada, algo estranho para os céus sempre límpidos de Animália. Era como se os céus também pedissem para Serelepe não ir...

Serelepe estava certo naquela noite: O mar estava calmo como um espelho d'água e o vento estava com a força e velocidade ideais, mesmo com a estranha neblina sobre Animália e o céu acizentado. Ele embarcou com apenas comida, água, um mapa, um remo e roupa com que estava, inclusive o agora velho boné vermelho que ganhou de Ratzy.

Sete dias e sete noites depois de ter começado sua viagem, Serelepe percebeu que a paisagem estava mudando. O céu continuava cinza, mas um cinza diferente. Um cinza pesado e difícil de se respirar, com partes mais escuras no meio. A água continuava calma, mas ela começou a feder feito Cheira Mal, a velha favela de Megatrópolis. Serelepe, torcendo o nariz, continuou sua viagem. Mais adiante, a água exalava um odor ainda mais horrendo, e assumiu uma cor nojenta - uma mistura de verde, preto e marrom. O céu escureceu mais.

- Estou chegando em Megatrópolis - pensou Serelepe. - Se eu segui as direções do mapa corretamente, eu desembarcarei na floresta... Mas ela nunca foi muito poluída! O que será que aconteceu depois do Êxodo?

A reflexão de Serelepe foi interrompida pela situação do ambiente a seu redor. A água agora tinha lixo e uma grossa camada de espuma de aparência asquerosa boiando em sua superfície. O céu estava preto e o ar, sufocante. Serelepe, com muito esforço, continou sua viagem, com esperanças de que, ao chegar à nova Floresta, tudo melhoraria.

Mas ele se chocou ao ver o que estava agora no lugar de sua terra natal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Esta história é uma continuação feita por mim de Lá No Alto Das Nuvens, um fantástico livro infantil escrito por Paul McCartney e que eu tenho desde minha infância. Se você gosta de histórias infantis amáveis e cativantes, procure o livro original e compre!

Inspiração–Um conto furry por Zillion Taborda

 

Era tarde da noite. Em uma casa humilde, que ficava dentro de um bosque mais humilde ainda, uma raposa, de caneta na boca, olhava nervosamente para um livro aberto, em branco.

- Ai ai ai... – disse Luís, a raposa em questão, abanando o rabo nervosamente. – Eu quero escrever alguma coisa. Eu sei que quero. Mas estou sem idéias...

O animal olhou, pela janela, para o mundo afora. Era tarde da noite, mais do que na hora de alguém de sua espécie dormir. Com um último bocejo e um olhar decepcionado para o papel em branco a sua frente, foi para sua cama.

Na manhã seguinte, a primeira coisa que Luís fez foi olhar pela janela de seu quarto. Tudo estava coberto por uma grossa camada de neve e gelo, com a forte luz do sol batendo no rosto de qualquer ser que ousar olhar para baixo ou para cima. Luís levantou-se, acendeu sua lareira, preparou um sanduíche de peito de frango feral para si mesmo (ele é uma raposa, afinal de contas), vestiu a jaqueta e o boné militarista que herdou de seu avô e, com o seu café da manhã na boca, foi dar uma caminhada pelo bosque para se inspirar.

O vento frio batia no focinho do canídeo e deixava-o seco, exigindo lambidas constantes. Seu frondoso pelo laranja ajudava muito na tarefa de se proteger do frio, embora a bela jaqueta que seu avô lhe deu era necessária em dias como aquele. Luís era uma raposa humilde, não se importava com aparências - embora sua vestimenta daquele momento fosse bem estilosa.

- Bem, vamos ver o que temos aqui... – Disse Luís, usando seus sentidos aguçados para procurar por toda e qualquer fonte de inspiração poética.

Um fino miado se ouviu no horizonte, junto com gritos e interjeições de choque. “Hrm.”, Luís pensou. “Provavelmente, um felino filhote se machucou enquanto brincava... Inspiração? Zero...”

Luís resolveu olhar para o céu. “O que está acima de nós sempre é uma ótima inspiração poética”, pensou ele. Os céus estavam calados naquela manhã, com seus habitantes se escondendo da neve e do frio. A única coisa que passou pelos ceús eram dois falcões desenvolvidos, provavelmente um casal. “Amor... Hmph. Muito clichê...” Concluiu a raposa, tentando esconder o fato de que nunca amou, e não saberia escrever nada sobre o amor. “O bosque está pouco interessante hoje... Parece que eu vou ter de ir à cidade.”

A cidade mais próxima do bosque onde Luís não passava de um mero vilarejo, mas isso não a impedia de estar sempre lotada. O barulho de dezenas de anthros falando ao mesmo tempo, com os anúncios de vendas em voz alta vindos dos comerciantes, deixavam Luís confuso e desnorteado, devido a sua excelente audição canina, e é por isso que ele mora em um bosque dominado por ferais. No centro da cidade, ao lado da igreja, havia o único lugar silencioso da vila, um paraíso cultural – a biblioteca municipal, que por acaso era também o lugar favorito de Luís, fora sua humilde cabana.

- Dona Camélia? – Perguntou Luís, batendo na grande porta da biblioteca, entrando e pendurando suas coisas. O lugar era equipado com uma pequena lareira, o que inutilizava a jaqueta que a raposa estava usando.

- Luís? Luís Reinhardt? É você? – perguntava a velha Camélia. A pobre ovelha não ouvia quase mais nada.

- Claro que sou eu, minha senhora. Eu sou a única pessoa que visita esse lugar, se lembra?

- Ah, claro. Infelizmente, a cultura dos habitantes da vila tem reduzido muito, de acordo com minhas observações. A biblioteca já foi um ponto badalado daqui... Agora todos só preferem a vida noturna, até mesmo os diurnos... Acredita?!

- É, infelizmente ninguém liga para livros atualmente...

- Então, o que deseja na biblioteca hoje, Luís? Eu adquiri um volume realmente interessante nesses últimos dias...

- Ah, não. Só estou a procura de inspirações para minha obra mais recente... Então, meus livros são populares por aqui?

- Oh, meu querido, tenho de admitir que não. O nosso acervo está caindo aos pedaços, e você... Bem, embora suas obras sejam realmente ótimas, você ainda é um escritor iniciante, sem editora, sem sucesso. Sinceramente espero que sua nova obra o leve a fama...

- Eu também, Camélia. Eu também...

Luís resolveu passear pela biblioteca até esbarrar em um livro inspiracional. Reza a lenda de que a biblioteca já foi a mansão da pessoa mais rica da cidade, porvavelmente o avô de Camélia. Por causa disso, o edifício era absolutamente enorme, com corredores largos e lotados de estantes cheias de livros. Filosofia, geometria, história... Havia de tudo lá. A raposa caminhava tranquilamente pelo edifício, até que esbarrou em um livro jogado no chão – uma enorme heresia, para um bibliófilo como ele.

- Hm? – Perguntou-se o anthro ao ver o livro, virando um pouco sua cabeça. – Que livro será este?...

A raposa pegou o pesado volume e leu sua capa de couro. Nela estava escrito:

OBRAS COMPLETAS DE JÚLIO VERNE

- Ohhhhhh, Júlio Verne! Eu preciso ler isso!

O canídeo correu para procurar um lugar para sentar, rebatendo sua cauda por todos os lados e acidentalmente derrubando alguns livros. Depois de um certo tempo procurando, encontrou a única mesa da biblioteca (acredite, em um lugar com tantos livros e corredores, é difícil achar tal coisa) e sentou na cadeira que a acompanhava.

Horas e horas se passaram e Luís continuava bitucado nos livros do velho Verne. Já era tarde da noite quando Camélia veio falar com a raposa.

- Luís? – Perguntou a velha ovelha, procurando a raposa por todo o lado. Sabendo a localização da mesa, logo encontrou-a. – Oh, Luís! A biblioteca já vai fechar!

- O quê? Fechar? – Luís imediatamente olhou para o velho relógio da biblioteca. – Caraca, nove! Nove da noite! Desculpe-me, Camélia! Tenho de ir!

Correndo, Luís pegou sua jaqueta e seu boné, vestiu-os e deixou a biblioteca. A velha Camélia o seguia, mas a pobre idosa não alcançava a jovem raposa. Quando chegou na porta, Luís já estava distante, no meio da vila.

- Luís! – Gritou Camélia, com toda sua força. – Você por acaso conseguiu encontrar sua inspiração?

Luís imediatamente parou de correr. Ele ainda não tinha encontrado sua inspiração! Como uma última esperança, olhou para seu redor. Os noturnos estavam chegando e alguns poucos diurnos ainda bebiam e festejavam, mas nada de mais acontecia.

Luís estava em pânico por ter encontrado sua inspiração, até que ele teve uma epfiania. Sua inspiração esteve sempre à sua frente e a seu lado, em todo lugar! A raposa voltou a correr, agora ainda mais rápido, em rumo a sua casa na floresta. Teve de atropelar alguns anthros na cidade, mas suas idéias não podiam esperar. Quando chegou em sua cabana, a lua já estava em seu pico no céu. Largou sua jaqueta e seu casaco no cabide, pegou a caneta e começou a escrever sua história.

Esta história começa numa casa humilde, em um bosque mais humilde ainda, onde uma humilde raposa pretende escrever um livro... 

 

Esta história foi inspirada pelo desenho “Vintertid”, do excelente artista furry escocês conhecido na internet come StrangeFox. StranjFox ou simplesmente Stranj. Confira suas galerias no deviantArt (strange-fox.deviantart.com) e no FurAffinity (http://www.furaffinity.net/user/strange-fox/)!