"Why can't I make people work on Christmas? There's got to be people who want our services on Christmas day!"
Sitting alone in his bed, Zane grumbled to himself.
"Damn that fox and his family. We're losing profits..."
It had been a long day, full of telling his employees what to do, and how exactly to do it. The next day was Christmas, but he wasn't looking forward to it.
Zane was a bitter kitty, with no one to share the holidays with. It was hard to make friends as a hardass shop owner, and any family had long since distanced themselves from the monster he had become.
"Ah, bah humbug!"
With an annoyed eyeroll, Zane wrapped himself up in his bed, and grumbled himself to a dreamless sleep.
A loud thump roused Zane from his restless sleep. Dreary at first, the grumpy cat looked around his dark bedroom.
"Did I leave the damned window open again?"
A second thump caused him to bolt upright.
"No, wait... that's coming from inside."
Shakily, Zane reached over and pulled the string to turn on his bedside lamp. Now able to see, he surveyed his room, before opening the drawer of his bedside table, and pulling out his shotgun. A deeply paranoid cat, Zane kept it loaded for just this occasion.
"I knew those ruffians down the street were eyeing me a little too closely! They're after my money, no doubt!"
Slowly, he crept across the room, opening the door as silently as he could. Unfortunately, it was an old house, and the hinges creaked loud enough to wake the dead. Wincing, Zane nonetheless tried to sneak down the hallway. Unfortunately, he didn't even make it to the staircase before a bright white glow started coming up the stairs.
"Damnit!"
Cursing under his breath, Zane tried to quickly sneak to what used to be his mother's room, but the floorboards creaked even louder than the door.
"Aw, blast it all!"
Throwing caution to the wind, Zane cocked his shotgun, and aimed for the top of the stairs.
"I don't care who you are, but if you think you can rob my house, you've got another thing coming!"
Slowly, the glow got brighter. Zane swallowed the lump in his throat.
Eventually, the top of the intruder's head became visible. Steeling himself, Zane started to pull the trigger.
"Zane..?"
A very familiar voice called from the intruder, and the mean kitty froze. He knew that voice, but...
"Impossible..."
The shotgun fell to the ground with a loud clatter.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, the intruder looked around, and Zane came face to face with his late business partner. He could barely stammer out a sentence.
"Michael..? But... you're..."
Michael smiled, and lunged to hug Zane.
"Zane!"
Zane's eyes widened, as the arctic fox lunged through him.
"Oh, right. I'm a ghost now."
Upon hearing those six words, Zane fainted.
"... Zane? Zane. Zane! Get up!"
Swimming back to consciousness, Zane looked up to the ghostly visage of his dead partner. It had been a long time, but Michael was just as young as he had been that fateful day...
"Michael..? But you got hit by that car..."
Michael smiled.
"Yeah, but now I'm here to teach you a lesson!"
Zane's eyes widened even wider than they had before.
"O-oh God, you're gonna kill me?! I'm sorry, I should have known bett-"
Michael quickly cut the kitty off.
"Not that kind of lesson. I've been sent to show you the true meaning of Christmas!"
Zane blinked. Then he blinked again.
"Like in that one story?"
Michael tilted his head.
"What story?"
Zane blinked some more.
"A Christmas Carol?"
Michael raised an eyebrow.
"Which one?"
Zane blinked even more.
"Forget it. Who sent you?"
Michael smiled again.
"Oh, that's easy. I was sent by good ol-"
Suddenly, a loud growl from Michael's ghostly stomach cut him off. If he wasn't already spectral white, all color would have drained from his face. Zane didn't seem to notice.
"Who?"
Michael wrapped his arms around his stomach.
"Ohhhhh, I knew I shouldn't have eaten so much before I left!"
Zane blinked even more than he had before.
"Huh? Ghosts can get indigestion?"
Michael huffed.
"Obviously! Where is your bathroom?"
Zane started thinking hard, even as Michael's stomach growled louder.
"What do ghosts even eat? Would your shit just fall through the toilet?"
Michael groaned, and rolled his eyes.
"Zane! Tell me where the bathroom is, before I-"
Caught up in thought, Zane ignored his ghostly partner.
"Do they have toilets in heaven? Wait, were you in heaven? Is the afterlife real? Do angels poop? Are they just winged humanoids, or those Old Testament abominations? Have you met Go-"
Rolling his eyes, Michael decided to take drastic measures. Quickly, he turned around, and shoved his ass in the curious kitty's face. Zane found his further questions muffled by fluffy ghost-ass.
"Mmmmph?!"
Michael looked back at the kitty, annoyed.
"Now, tell me where the bathroom is, befor- oh, God!"
Before the ghost-fox could finish reprimanding Zane, his stomach lurched, and he found himself unable to hold his gas back any longer.
"Hnnnngggg!"
Loud, bassy blasts of wet, rancid ghost-gas filled Zane's mouth and nose with the stench of absolute death. The deafening sound echoed around the old house, almost as loud as any gunshot. Any further questions Zane had were driven out of his mind as his consciousness fled yet again.
"Oh, jeez... sorry, Zane. I couldn't hold it..."
Panting lightly, Michael turned around, to see Zane passed out on the floor again.
"Oh, come on."
Part one of a Christmas themed story! Hope you enjoy!
Zane is me, the writer!
Michael is TheOmegaError, who also did the art!
Sitting alone in his bed, Zane grumbled to himself.
"Damn that fox and his family. We're losing profits..."
It had been a long day, full of telling his employees what to do, and how exactly to do it. The next day was Christmas, but he wasn't looking forward to it.
Zane was a bitter kitty, with no one to share the holidays with. It was hard to make friends as a hardass shop owner, and any family had long since distanced themselves from the monster he had become.
"Ah, bah humbug!"
With an annoyed eyeroll, Zane wrapped himself up in his bed, and grumbled himself to a dreamless sleep.
A loud thump roused Zane from his restless sleep. Dreary at first, the grumpy cat looked around his dark bedroom.
"Did I leave the damned window open again?"
A second thump caused him to bolt upright.
"No, wait... that's coming from inside."
Shakily, Zane reached over and pulled the string to turn on his bedside lamp. Now able to see, he surveyed his room, before opening the drawer of his bedside table, and pulling out his shotgun. A deeply paranoid cat, Zane kept it loaded for just this occasion.
"I knew those ruffians down the street were eyeing me a little too closely! They're after my money, no doubt!"
Slowly, he crept across the room, opening the door as silently as he could. Unfortunately, it was an old house, and the hinges creaked loud enough to wake the dead. Wincing, Zane nonetheless tried to sneak down the hallway. Unfortunately, he didn't even make it to the staircase before a bright white glow started coming up the stairs.
"Damnit!"
Cursing under his breath, Zane tried to quickly sneak to what used to be his mother's room, but the floorboards creaked even louder than the door.
"Aw, blast it all!"
Throwing caution to the wind, Zane cocked his shotgun, and aimed for the top of the stairs.
"I don't care who you are, but if you think you can rob my house, you've got another thing coming!"
Slowly, the glow got brighter. Zane swallowed the lump in his throat.
Eventually, the top of the intruder's head became visible. Steeling himself, Zane started to pull the trigger.
"Zane..?"
A very familiar voice called from the intruder, and the mean kitty froze. He knew that voice, but...
"Impossible..."
The shotgun fell to the ground with a loud clatter.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, the intruder looked around, and Zane came face to face with his late business partner. He could barely stammer out a sentence.
"Michael..? But... you're..."
Michael smiled, and lunged to hug Zane.
"Zane!"
Zane's eyes widened, as the arctic fox lunged through him.
"Oh, right. I'm a ghost now."
Upon hearing those six words, Zane fainted.
"... Zane? Zane. Zane! Get up!"
Swimming back to consciousness, Zane looked up to the ghostly visage of his dead partner. It had been a long time, but Michael was just as young as he had been that fateful day...
"Michael..? But you got hit by that car..."
Michael smiled.
"Yeah, but now I'm here to teach you a lesson!"
Zane's eyes widened even wider than they had before.
"O-oh God, you're gonna kill me?! I'm sorry, I should have known bett-"
Michael quickly cut the kitty off.
"Not that kind of lesson. I've been sent to show you the true meaning of Christmas!"
Zane blinked. Then he blinked again.
"Like in that one story?"
Michael tilted his head.
"What story?"
Zane blinked some more.
"A Christmas Carol?"
Michael raised an eyebrow.
"Which one?"
Zane blinked even more.
"Forget it. Who sent you?"
Michael smiled again.
"Oh, that's easy. I was sent by good ol-"
Suddenly, a loud growl from Michael's ghostly stomach cut him off. If he wasn't already spectral white, all color would have drained from his face. Zane didn't seem to notice.
"Who?"
Michael wrapped his arms around his stomach.
"Ohhhhh, I knew I shouldn't have eaten so much before I left!"
Zane blinked even more than he had before.
"Huh? Ghosts can get indigestion?"
Michael huffed.
"Obviously! Where is your bathroom?"
Zane started thinking hard, even as Michael's stomach growled louder.
"What do ghosts even eat? Would your shit just fall through the toilet?"
Michael groaned, and rolled his eyes.
"Zane! Tell me where the bathroom is, before I-"
Caught up in thought, Zane ignored his ghostly partner.
"Do they have toilets in heaven? Wait, were you in heaven? Is the afterlife real? Do angels poop? Are they just winged humanoids, or those Old Testament abominations? Have you met Go-"
Rolling his eyes, Michael decided to take drastic measures. Quickly, he turned around, and shoved his ass in the curious kitty's face. Zane found his further questions muffled by fluffy ghost-ass.
"Mmmmph?!"
Michael looked back at the kitty, annoyed.
"Now, tell me where the bathroom is, befor- oh, God!"
Before the ghost-fox could finish reprimanding Zane, his stomach lurched, and he found himself unable to hold his gas back any longer.
"Hnnnngggg!"
Loud, bassy blasts of wet, rancid ghost-gas filled Zane's mouth and nose with the stench of absolute death. The deafening sound echoed around the old house, almost as loud as any gunshot. Any further questions Zane had were driven out of his mind as his consciousness fled yet again.
"Oh, jeez... sorry, Zane. I couldn't hold it..."
Panting lightly, Michael turned around, to see Zane passed out on the floor again.
"Oh, come on."
Part one of a Christmas themed story! Hope you enjoy!
Zane is me, the writer!
Michael is TheOmegaError, who also did the art!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fetish Other
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Male
Size 1000 x 1000px
I'm not such a ghost fan, but that is freaking good.
Merry Christmas btw
Merry Christmas btw
I imagine that after that, the ghost ran to the bathroom more Nearby, and when he put his big ass in the toilet he dropped a big gust of farts along with large cascades of diarrhea that made him ashamed
Unfortunately, since Error and I are no longer friends, odds of a sequel are pretty much zero.
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