What if I am successful but what I’m doing isn’t what I was really meant to do - and I’m stuck doing it?

I want the answer to a very specific question that I will only find the answer to in a very specific time


Tech vibe: apps are still exciting and not overly exploitative

Is it possible, I wonder, to

One of the first things Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and John and Michael for hollow trees. Hook, you remember, had sneered at the boys for thinking they needed a tree apiece, but this was ignorance, for unless your tree fitted you it was difficult to go up and down, and no two of the boys were quite the same size. Once you fitted, you drew in [let out] your breath at the top, and down you went at exactly the right speed, while to ascend you drew in and let out alternately, and so wriggled up. Of course, when you have mastered the action you are able to do these things without thinking of them, and nothing can be more graceful.

But you simply must fit, and Peter measures you for your tree as carefully as for a suit of clothes: the only difference being that the clothes are made to fit you, while you have to be made to fit the tree. Usually it is done quite easily, as by your wearing too many garments or too few, but if you are bumpy in awkward places or the only available tree is an odd shape, Peter does some things to you, and after that you fit. Once you fit, great care must be taken to go on fitting, and this, as Wendy was to discover to her delight, keeps a whole family in perfect condition.

Wendy and Michael fitted their trees at the first try, but John had to be altered a little.

I was born into a normal family. I wasn’t abused. I wasn’t dirt poor, I didn’t grow up devoid of opportunities. Physically I am a perfectly average man, around six feet tall, normal physique. I have all my hair still, got all my teeth and everything. You could walk past me on the street and you wouldn’t have a clue that I’m a lonely man. You wouldn’t know I’m miserable. You wouldn’t know I’m deathly shy, because if you talked to me, I could make some small talk, but if you never approached me, I’d never dare to speak up.

For all my life I have been so terribly scared of making mistakes, that I tried desperately to avoid making any, ever. I didn’t want to make any form of social faux pas, I didn’t want to do anything I would be ashamed of remembering. The only times I could ever let go, was when I was intoxicated… that’s when I would feel human. It’s when I go the courage to actually make jokes, be funny, be friendly, be an actual person for a moment until I sobered up.

I’ve only approached very few women in my life with romantic intentions, and when I did, I would fail inevitably. I did not even manage to befriend any, not really anyway… I had a female friend, once, who I drifted away from. She was married and her husband was also my friend, also briefly. He was a seaman and a great guy. We had some drinks together when both of us were in our twenties. It now seems like a lifetime away, but I remember how I envied his life… he had a wife who was an intelligent and charming young woman, he himself was a handsome, tall, robust fellow. They had a lovely young daughter who was mildly disabled intellectually due to a lack of air at birth, but who was so sweet and wonderful and ended up largely growing over her issues.

Eventually this couple, my only two friends, moved far away. After five years of working for a foreign shipping company as an officer, my friend was able to relocate to another country where he moved his wife and daughter. We tried to meet several more times. But it never materialized. Just two days ago I received the news that my only friend has died. It’s been almost twenty-five years since we last had a beer together in his backyard… I loved that man and I miss him.

That’s my entire social life of sixty-four years right there. Besides my brother and his family, there is no one I interact with anymore. Co-workers and I were always cordial at best, distant, professional but reserved. That’s my entire life… reserved. Controlled. Never let my emotions show. Three decades ago my friend and I, we drank and talked of the good things in life… but we never let go of our emotions. I never shed a tear. I never gave him a manly hug. I wish I did. I wish I had shed a tear. I wish I had let go of my emotions. But I never did.

As I am writing this I am realizing that I really loved my friend. He was a great man and a wonderful man and he was sweet. He was the only one, in my life, who was truly sweet… his wife didn’t treat him right. I remember my friend would come to my apartment and bring food he had made. He would prepare fish, meat, delicious dishes. The barbeque gatherings we had in his backyard were always wonderful. I wish on that one last night we shared in the house of his in-laws, when the other guests had left and it was just the two of us sitting there… I wish I had told him, right there and then, as he told me in tears of his father’s mistreatment of him and the rejection he felt, that I loved him. Because I realize now did I did.

I married at the age of fifty. I was a virgin when I married. And perhaps underuse of equipment causes malfunction, because I was unable to have a child with her. Which is why she decided to leave me. I understand it. I was broken, truly, and she saw it. I’ve been alone for too long to be with anyone, really. And besides, to be completely honest, I did not love her and I am pretty sure she did not love me either. She loved the idea of me. Of what I could, in theory, have offered her. A house. Family. Stability and a future. But the family part was important, too important for her to give up on. She would have resented me had she stayed with me. So she didn’t.

I never loved my wife. She left me within two years, and I have never been with another soul since. Never tried, either. The will to try has left me long ago. The only one I think I ever truly loved was my friend. But he was a married man and he moved away to Europe.

Now I just want to die in peace. But my health is decent and I am not suicidal so I will have to wait a little while longer. When I do, I hope I will see my friend again. I find the idea of an afterlife soothing, although I am not fully sold on it, I would love it to be true, so I could actually tell him what I have always felt and never could bring myself to say. The fact that I never did will always haunt me forever. But if I had told him and he felt it too, what good would it have been for me to end a marriage? His daughter deserved better. She is married now and has a family. She never knew. And she never will. But now you do.

Don’t do what I did. Don’t be so scared to be yourself. Don’t be so terrified to take risks. Don’t wait endlessly for life to put something good on your path, because life won’t do any such thing.

Please do not grow old and let the years pass by uneventfully. Don’t wait for golden years to arrive without effort, without risk, without ups and downs and struggles. I tried so hard to avoid struggles out of that crippling fear and anxiety I always felt, and it got me nowhere.

Gordon if you can read this from wherever you are now, I love you and I am sorry I was such a coward.

Relevant comment from /u/BlackBarrrt: Are you coming out? This is beautiful!

Response from OP: I think I am.

Update posted July 8, 2019: Update from the lonely 65 year old post so many people read last week… I am now in Europe and a lot has happened

A lot of people here read my story last week, and a lot of people have since reached out to me. I was very overwhelmed with the attention and had to take a bit of time to settle my mind down, and to process everything I have heard and read. I responded to some of the messages and comments but frankly I was too shocked by the sheer number of responses. I was struck also by how universal that kindness and understanding I was showered with, was. I’m humbled.

I’ve pretty much packed my bags and left, shortly after I posted my message. By the end of the next day I was on a plane to the Netherlands where the funeral of my best friend Gordon has been held. It’s already done by now. And for the first days I was not able to write yet. It was a lot to take in.

The funeral was sad. Just a lot of sad people. I really didn’t know what to expect, I haven’t been to any funerals before for over thirty years, the last ones were when my grandparents died decades ago. They were in their nineties and their passing was hardly a shock. Gordon was only 63. And he was so healthy up until the moment he died, nobody had seen it coming. I never expected it. I always told myself it was okay not to see him because he’d “still be there twenty years from now, anyway”. A healthy man in his early retirement, living out his days in a Western European country with excellent healthcare, how could I have predicted he would die in his early sixties? One thing I learned, never take things for granted. Life has a way of taking unexpected turns and leaving you breathless, struggling to comprehend what just happened.

In the Netherlands I met with Gordon’s widow and his daughter. He never had more children because of complications during her birth, and his wife later suffered an ectopic pregnancy as well that left her barren. His daughter is now in her early forties, she is a teacher. His daughter remembered me too and that touched my soul because I never had a daughter of my own and now I felt for a moment what it may have been like if I had. She has two teenaged sons, the eldest of whom is his grandfather’s spitting image. His widow was… kinder, than I remember her being. Time has taken a lot of the sharper edges off her. She told me Gordon would often speak to her about me. He had a lot of fond memories of me and she was surprised I had never come to visit even once. She didn’t seem upset, she just found it curious. She hadn’t expected me to come, but was pleased when I did.

After the funeral, where I felt like an intruder and hardly spoke to anyone, I spent some time in Gordon’s house. His family wanted me to stay for a while, which I did. I talked a lot to his widow there. She gave me a framed image of me and my friend, with his daughter on my lap, at a barbeque in his father-in-law’s house. He kept that picture on his desk in his study, next to pictures of his wife, daughter and grandsons in various stages of their life. Throughout the years I had remained a part of his life, in a little way. I had been there on his desk every night he worked, read or wrote.

When I left their house I hugged the widow. It’s strange how I was the one to initiate the hug, that’s a first for me. Hasn’t happened before. I just, wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. She wrapped hers around me as well. We cried. We didn’t say anything anymore. I think she’s a good friend. I think I will write her. Maybe visit again some time.

Now I am just in the Netherlands. I’m in a place called Delft in a cute little bed and breakfast near a tram station. The host has a beautiful garden. Weather for the past days wasn’t perfect but even wandering around places I never been through a bit of rain or drizzle is still very soothing to me. I have cried a lot. I did not connect to many people but just this morning I had a short, spontaneous phone call with Gordon’s widow and that was enjoyable. I also had a few little chats with my host. The husband is a retired diplomat and he’s an interesting fellow.

All this may seem unimportant and not very major to most of you reading, and probably very boring to boot but for me this is a big deal and I have done a lot of things lately that have brought me far out of my comfort zone. I am in a strange land, where I know next to no one and yet, I don’t feel as out of place somehow as I did before, at home. For now I am resting. Unwinding. Next week I’ll tour the Netherlands a bit, the week after I will venture into Belgium for a short while and after that, Germany.

I have no real itinerary, I’m taking things slow. My money won’t run out any time soon and I think I have plenty of time. Worst case scenario, I die on some foreign trip somewhere in a beautiful but gloomy European town, and join Gordon. I’m not even sure if that’s even a bad scenario at all. Best case scenario, I live ten or twenty more years and when they put me in a home for the aged, I won’t bore whoever looks after me because I can actually entertain them with a story or two. I think I’ll try to have an adventure now. Wish me luck.

OOP writes more on July 13, 2019: Reflections of fifty years of being a male virgin

I’m reflecting right now on the first fifty years of my life, which I spent as a virgin. I never touched anyone during those years, did not even hold hands, hug, or kiss anyone. I was static. Frozen. A robot, almost. It’s not that I had no feelings, because I had a lot of them. It’s just that I kept them on the surface for so long, pushed them down until they all but disappeared.

Intimacy was scary. And it almost seemed like an impossibility. Something other, whole, humans did but I was not allowed to partake in. A rite of passage I never passed. In a sense I was a perpetual child. Still terrified of my father as if I was a little boy, still fearful of my mothers looks, still caring about their judgement well into middle age. I was ashamed, too. Of the things I wanted, desired, yet felt unworthy of for the longest time.

I remember a day when I was already twenty-seven. I cycled past a little playground that had steel bars, and some shirtless young men were doing pull-ups and other exercises on them. They had broad, hard bodies, powerful frames, sun-kissed skin and even though they were sweaty and likely tired from their activities, they still seemed so… capable. As if they could drop down those bars and run a few blocks just for fun to see who’s fastest. Me, I would just get out of breath if I exercised. I would get sweaty too but my skin would turn red, I’d smell, I’d just look like a fish out of the water… out of place. They made even tiresome exercises and great physical exertion look graceful, while for me, nothing ever was graceful. I had no grace. I was an animal.

There’re other things that I noticed. For example, the way I would not just look at the well-shaped behinds of girls, but also the wide shoulders of men. How I would be fascinated by a man’s hands, especially if they were large and powerful. And nobody had hands like Gordon. They were half a hand longer than mine and easily twice as wide. His handshake was the kind that made you feel he was a man built for uprooting trees and raising hell, yet his voice was polite and he never even dared to squeeze as he was painfully aware of his prowess. Me, I had nothing but my out-of-shape, breathless, perpetually tired self.

At the age of 29 I got into a fight with a drunken man outside of a bar. I would always avoid such things, normally, but this time I did not. I figured I had nothing to lose but I did, as I lost badly. I never felt so weak, so useless, because it seemed as if all my punches were laughably weak. The next day I took a long hard look at my bruised body in the mirror and decided to change. I did not want to be a weak, tired, out-of-shape doughy nobody for the rest of my life. I did not want to be anxious all my life to shake hands, even with women as half of them had a stronger grip than I myself had. My hands felt so weak, so soft, so feminine. Even the bruising on my skin from the fight, to me, were a sign of weakness. As if even my skin was weak.

In my thirties I became more fit. I got in better shape, because I refused to be a weakling any longer. I picked up some rock climbing and, amazingly, my hands became much stronger because of it… I remember how the blisters on my skin would hurt, sometimes bleed and burst. Blisters turned into callous, and my palms got wider, my finger thicker with veins now running across the back of my hands. My wrists became wider too, I had to adjust my watch several times over the years. And the fresh air helped my weak lungs get stronger. The sunshine helped me get a healthy complexion. I looked almost human, and even though I personally knew something inside me was missing, something fundamental and important, other people didn’t have a clue anymore.

Even now that I looked and felt better, physically, I was still a chicken shit. I still did not approach anyone, not even to make friends, let alone to make a romantic connection. It just never occurred to me. I felt that, even with all the anxiety I still felt, maybe someone would… come my way? I mean I looked half-decent by now. I made good enough money, and didn’t have to spend much of it as my lifestyle was simple. Minimalist before it was a big deal to be one. I didn’t still like myself, but I liked myself a little more than before, enough to imagine maybe someone in the world could like me too. But nobody did.

Fast forward almost twenty years… it’s in the early 2000s, internet is now very prominent. I like the chatrooms. The forums. The little obscure homemade websites where people write about their day to day lives. The ancestors of blogs as we know them, some now with the ability to comment. And I did! I talked to people. Lots and lots of people. I wrote to them, from behind my computer screen. Argued with them. Fought with them, even joked with them. Some were my age, back in the 1990s when I first went into this magical world of ‘surfing’. Some were older. Those who were older, they may be dead by now. I know for a fact some are. In 1998 I got into an argument in an obscure chatroom for ham radio enthusiasts. I’m not even an enthusiast but I ended up there anyway, and I had an argument with some guy, Tropical-something, about an entirely different subject; Middle Eastern politics. Later another guy on there told me that the guy I just argued with was Marlon Brando. That was pretty cool.

Almost fifteen years ago to this day, I met a girl online. She was way younger than me, in retrospect she was too young. She was from the Philippines. She and I exchanged a lot of emails and I liked the chats we had, because she was funny, flirty, and when I sent her my picture, she actually called me handsome. That’s something I have not heard often in my life and each time it happened before I just assumed it was a joke. Now, for the first time ever, I took her word for it. She seemed so genuine, so pure. And she was. But she was also someone who wanted things in life, certain very specific things, and who had a blueprint of how she wanted her future to look like. I was not able to give her, what she wanted. Even though we tried. This is another story altogether. But I do want to tell you what it was like to lose my virginity after fifty years of thinking it simply wasn’t in the cards for me.

It was… underwhelming. She was shy and reserved, but I was much shyer and more reserved than she ever could have been, forcing her to take the initiative. She was cute, I think, but I was surprised by how little I felt. I was also surprised by how hard I still got. It was like a force of nature, something stronger than me. She was amazed by it. She clearly had not expected… well, that. And she said as much. This stroked my ego enough to not be too bruised after the actual act went down, awkward as the rest of my life had been. It was over in about two minutes. And I felt… so empty and alone in that moment.

I’m glad I did not remain a virgin for my entire life. I’m pretty convinced at this point I’ll never have many experiences, maybe never again a single time. But I am glad I did not die a virgin, that much I can say. In a way I have always told myself that meeting a girl online was cheating. That somehow, if this was a game, it was me using a cheat code. But I’m not sure anymore. It seems so much more common nowadays. The empty feeling never really left me. I wasn’t more fulfilled after than I was before. In retrospect, I would have signed up for some penpal agency way sooner. Gone to the YMCA. Gotten drunk a few more times in… opportune circumstances, perhaps. Who knows, what could have happened? I don’t want to live in the past but I can’t help to reflect and I hope it’s worth reading to someone else.

Update July 18, 2019 - credits to /u/Effective7Background for finding this!

If it wasn’t for so many kind people on Reddit who reached out to me, I would probably have been dead within a year…

…instead, I am in Italy right now. And not by myself, mind you; I am in a nice little restaurant as of writing this and a very friendly, young Austrian man is with me as of me writing this. He’s kind, funny, soft-spoken and frighteningly tall. His name is Jörg.

If anyone had told me I’d be where I am right now, say, a month ago or even two weeks ago I would not have believed it. And yet here I am. I’ve met Jörg two days ago. We got to chat in a cute little bar. He’s into aviation and loves airplanes, he even has his flying license for small aircrafts! He’s 6’7” and grey eyed, a bit of stubble, full head of hair. He’s in his late thirties and slightly greying and yet to me he’s practically a kid. Still has a bit of that youthful energy, too. We’ve gradually gotten more and more drunk as the evening progressed, and as Jörg and myself got more drunk, we also got more scandalous. Turns out we share a pretty outrageous and awful sense of humor. I’m actually a funny man, never quite knew, and he says I have a “dry sense of humor”.

When I made my post about my loneliness and regret of a life of doing, well, nothing… I never in my wildest dreams could have predicted myself making the sort of heart-felt human connections I am making now. Called Gordon’s widow up four more times since, had some long talks deep into the night. I have in my phone right now the numbers of five people I never had before; her, Jörg, the man and woman who owned the bed-and-breakfast I stayed in the Netherlands and also a tour guide in Italy.

Thank you so much sweet people. I’m so happy as I write this. I am not quite there yet but for the first time in a long time I woke up this morning and I felt like I would hate it if I died today. And that may be a small step for humanity but damn, for me it’s a huge one!

Mole x Fox

Why do you only like fucking random people Fox

Well, the more I get to know someone, the more I dislike them
I’m a perfectionist at heart and a blank slate can be anything I want to believe it to be.

Leader of jocks -> also follows nerd queen

He is arrested? -> NQ, you knew his plans all along didn’t you? In fact you pretty much ran everything

NQ becomes leader of jocks

The 2 directions MC can follow

MC wants popularity and to get the guy. He is opposed by real life which is represented by security and white supremacy - but fantasy threatens to overwhelm him.


Dive deeper into fantasy, be a hero and live his fantasies. Forget Real Life

Real Life
Reject fantasy, face the real life forces infiltrating his way of life

…so you see, that’s where all the trouble began

literature brain vs film brain

Dude is hired by companies to join subcultures for advertising
He’s been part of every trend and his latest is furries
His friends find out but he’s reformed

Peta:. Actually do something!

Abandon hopes for it really come true. You will not have him

Skate Park Jesus

Gays can go to a place where almost everyone else is gay
Lesbians can only be immersed in their own world in fanfiction

People fucking in suit in the window

Mole is trying to organize people for the reg line
Fox is trying to have a good time
They clash but Fox ends up helping Mole organize stuff

Yup. The call of the void (in French, l’appel du vide) describes this impulse to hurl yourself into, well, a void. While unnerving, it’s actually a pretty common experience.

Glück im Unglück

The verdure

‘Me breeks a doon!’

Babyfur tattooist

Those golden hours don’t last forever

Adderall in CPAP machine

I have to f them all, gotta make sure they don’t get attached

The easiest way to get rid of a twink stalker is to say you’re a bottom

Fun con huh? -Nazis

You think a bouncer is going to stop Me? You underestimate me

I don’t like you. You’re a lazy speaker.

Can we come with, maybe?
You won’t be able to keep up.

How is it that you can see me - deer

One char is exposed to all political leanings and goes on a journey

Look rat, we know you aren’t a big shot celebrity -
That’s right! I’m not, and I managed to get away with it this whole time!

I don’t want to die, I want to live without working

Badger created his fursona to trick a dying child into believing in a magic garden.

A friend offers a piece of broken-off chocolate with no wrapper. When you refuse he chases you down and forces you to eat it

The leader of the neo-nazis is the most popular furry at the con. Denial and refusal to call out is why nobody wants to resist him.

Burying the lead - ignoring important information to follow another conversation topic

Don’t make a scene

Drag queen jokes about deer’s age twice and gets the clapback

Room 108

Volleyball dads vs furries

Is being held prisoner by babyfurs
sees one sitting with tattoo equipment
Well, no need to guess what your day job is.
Actually, I work in tech.
You’re not a real tattooist
Sure I am.
A real tattooist has things like proper equipment, and a portfolio
Oh, but I do have my portfolio with me.
babyfurs show off their tattooes

18yo volleyball girl is pursued by wolf spirit to her dismay

must choose to use him to help the furries

At first, money is a big deal - but later they realize their real dreams are coming true

Why is it that old people hate everything, Badger?
For various reasons, as we get older, we get choosier when it comes to our heroes.
To love an artist is to deify them, and we’ve all lost our faith that gods exist.
Maybe we’re a little jealous and we figure we can do better.

Badger is a patron of a famous furry artist. By supporting him financially, they are equals - but they can never meet physically, lest the image of him be destroyed in his mind.


bitrate 5mbps > 10 mbps

Bitrate is good. Guess it wants you to tell your story.

The storyteller’s burden

Lest you believe a good story will go unpunished

Before we go any further, I must confess to you that I am a thief

Whatever it is you’ve stolen, I don’t want it. But if you feel so badly, tell me your story

I can assure you that those things are one and the same.

When I was 10, my mother once told me I could be anything.
20 years later I find myself here.

Of all the gophers on staff, Mole was by far the hardest working. He had a knack for being precisely in the right place where he was needed at all times - whether to provide directions, stack loose chairs, or to check badges. His lead loved him, because although, like all volunteers, he took meal tokens in lieu of pay, he worked just as hard as if he were getting paid for it. And he secretly loved his team, for he loved his job, for he loved the furries he served and considered his tiny role a true honor. Most of his fellow volunteers despised him, however, because although just as he was easily outspoken in normal conversation, he was compelled to find his voice when detecting any incompetence or sloth in his coworkers. He had no official authority over them, which made them despise him more.

There was only one thing he loved more than his work.

I’m aware that I have problems with my behavior.
So, I don’t care to change them. I accept the consequences of my choices. I will always choose to suffer them than suffer a major life change such as that.

Charming, rollicking opening

Moods in the 1st chapter:

  1. Love of the con - and the need for acceptance, growth, belonging. Perhaps they are underachieving in this. This can be said as simply as possible.

NOTE: We can express this by having the characters actually say or act that this is what they want. If it’s obvious this is important to the characters it will come across to the audience

Mole is supervising a panel of his favorite childhood show. The main character is a deer and someone walks out behind a curtain. It is the deer! Nice fursuit. Mole leaves to dealers den to organize things there

Mole runs into the dealer’s den with a makeshift volunteer badge, starts trying to “help out”.
Staff organizers tell him he needs to stop
You know, we are actually short on volunteers, you can sign up…
Uh I think we can do without him, he’s a little crazy
This explains his later behavior trying to restart the con again
Also illuminates him as an idealist, and possible redemption saving the con later

We start with the scene; chaos and bad stuff happening.
We’re disorganized, where is the line? There’s a mess! We’ve been waiting for 8 hours. This con is a disaster!

Mole to the rescue
Organized, fixes everything

My theory is, some people become actors so they can meet their childhood crush

He visits his friends 1 by 1

They meet various characters on their journey down to the main floor

Come to my party. Not the shitty jock party

He goes to the lobby and meets the Karen

Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but fuck you

The Karen in the bathroom is shocked by the glory hole and flees, contacting the police

Fox, Badger, Rat, Toad

Consider cutting down to Badger and Toad

chars are super weird and nerdy

we got in a fight with a bunch of nazis, well never be cool enough to get into the party

What is happening in the world of RF that the characters are dealing with?

The characters are trying to save RF by waking up people against the external forces threatening it, but by the end they find that change has already occurred as the innocence about it is gone.

Lagarto leather armor

I don’t know why you bother with our silly little club of misfits-

-Furry will be around as long as mankind. From the first day a caveman drew a cave painting to the last days, when children hold their teddy bears as the bombs fall.

Short 3-panels to show con life

Decision Tree

Every scene is an opportunity

Every so often a frame that is in intense detail, showing off the world for the character and audience








The suitmakers
Oldschool furries
CHANCE security
Con staff
The Furry Raiders + The Neonazis
Hotel Staff
Party furries
The pup community


Have a good amount of power and control over the community as they control the fursuits

Furry Raider leader

I just wanted to keep our fantasy community the way it’s always been. I’ve seen so many outside influences changing our community


All hyper competent with their own roles(Star Trek)

Captain (Fox)
Bruiser (Badger)
Brains (Mole)
Money (Toad)
Slut (Rat)

Fox, the leader (Homelander)

In 2020 - lamenting his age. Doesn’t want to go along with the group because he’s quitting anyways.
In 2015 - he sees Deer and intends to steal him away, betraying his friend Mole
This is foreshadowed by:

Takes Mole’s glasses to solve a problem and breaks them

Badger, the Himbo (RIKER)

What’s with the new couples badge? And what happened to your old one?
I love ‘im.

God blessed me with size and strength in a world where I am constantly forced to hold back

Don’t matter much to me. I’m used to watching everyone else with plenty while I hunt for scraps.

Here’s your ring back. No, don’t pay me. The price was the story behind it.

Badger argues with the program director of the talent show about having “The Raccuties” dancers featured in the show - which is dear to him. The talent director feels it is outdated and will not draw crowds the way newer media will.

The Raccuties are an old school flapper routine that has become steadily more unknown over time.

Badger associates his late son with the theater show and will preserve it at any cost.

Later, the spirit attached to him - a raccoon - tries to insert itself into his life as his son.

Mole, the Shut-in (Judge Rinder)

Mole is an “expert” at being a gentleman.
Con security during the day, but only a ceremonial one. Most “real” security is handled by CHANCE.

It’s the damn nazis again.
Trust them to show up.

“Milady” is an incel thing, not a renfaire thing!
Later: Milady, perhaps I can help-

Don’t ever speak to my friend like that again. Or else you’ll face the beast I have imprisoned inside.
shows his teeth

dancing No, no - don’t touch me there. This is - my no, no square.

This is an important time in my life.
I need to appreciate this. I need to sear it into my memory forever.

Mole: I just don’t react fast…I get caught up in the mechanics if it’s OK to do something sometimes and it just holds me up
Badger: well, some dudes just got explosion in them, and some don’t
Mole, later: Explosion…explosion!

Mole + Deer at first
Then, a crucial situation occurs. Fox speaks up. Deer begins to follow Fox. Mole is crushed.

I’m going to make you mine

Toad (The paranoid MAGA)

Very slow to react. Gets made fun of it - later he is the only one to get hit by something.

A compulsive liar due to being neglected as a child. He tells stories that people have heard before and then tells bigger lies to cover them up which gets him into even more trouble.
He stole his entire look from someone else who he was obsessed with.

During the story he hits someone up on howlr, organizes a meeting, and then blocks them. Later, he unblocks to look at the messages, then deletes them.

Rat (Ho)

RAT is the one who forms a relationship with Deer. He’s a side character and he has a sad story overall.


A hint of Gene Wilder from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Is he your enemy? I see. He is OUR enemy.

He cannot be understood and that is what makes him dangerous

But every god needs a temple, and a temple you will build for me.
Here. I will have this place as my church.

Shit. I don’t think we been more ready before.

I have seen your vinegar strokes


Old, stupid, collects comics, binders, 80s furry art

He was the last one left. A dwindling herald of an age lost before the Internet.

Coyote - the storyteller

I taught them how to talk, what to say. I taught them how to be perfect furries.

Karen’s daughter

Oh my god, I know who these people are, they’re fuzzies!

2 ex-politicians meet at the bar to discuss old faction policy.

Sometimes, I believe you were actually right about poodling

A random volleyballer family wanders by interrupting scenes

Jesus! Come back!


Sometimes, you have such good friends that you don’t feel like you need to talk to them every day or every week or even every year and you let them slip away to keep a memory of a time burning clean and pristine, just the way you left it.

Sometimes, we just hold onto a time we had with our friends because we just know that such a serendipity

Ever wanted to keep a memory of a time with your friends that would never happen again, burning clean and pristine in your mind, so, so badly? And you ended up not talking to your friends again just to preserve that time forever?

It’s wrong of us to leave the friends we love the most and never see them again. You’ll meet again, you think - but you don’t. Because the thought of it is so much sweeter. And every time we draw on our memory the image is just a little bit dimmer. But what can we do but try to hold onto it as long as we can?

Y’know, I haven’t put thought to my friends in many a year now, but something made me want to start thinking again, and I always thought best when I’m playing. And it weren’t long I thought up myself a song with all my friends’ names in it. And it wasn’t long after I thought up a tune to go along with it.
And well. Here it is.

In the hotel room, 3/4 are passed out in their beds.
#4 is mole, who is cleaning the room and swearing.
He finds #5, badger, passed out in the bathroom, and steps over him to continue cleaning.

Don’t bother cleaning Mole, there’s 2 days left and the room is going to get messy anyways. Just leave a big tip on the last day.

Rat and Mole stagger down to the lobby.

Karen is arguing with the staff

This fucking bitch wants to shut us down

They see a deer fursuiter and everyone nudges mole, who is sweating

We’re a bunch of party freaks, nazis don’t want to fuck with us

Must be foreshadowing of violence

Mood - nerdy

Group runs into guys

They’re new and outsiders, and the crew is welcoming to them.

The guys see Mole is kinda awkward and are super nice to Mole, inviting him out to a party.

Mood - still nerdy

Karen sitting in bathroom
Someone drills through hole
She covers her mouth in terror
Blue man enters the bathroom
The cool guys reveal themselves to be neo nazis
Blue man challenges neonazis in a super nerdy way

Mood - suddenly serious
One of them stabs him
He says oh and sits down, holding himself
A red stain spreads over his outfit
They walk past while he holds his chest, staring blankly

Karen runs out, stumbling over him and out the door

Mole goes to Badger’s room

Badger is arguing with dance comp organizer

Dance comp organizer wants to omit Badger’s flapper routine
*charleston, boater straw hats, etc.

Badger argues him off

Offers Mole a spot, who turns him down


The neonazis have come through anime and brony cons beforehand to bolster their numbers

Badger takes the stage himself and makes dads sexy

Mole tries to comfort the Karen by saying they’re in the same boat
She paints him as one of them

No, that’s completely off the table, and let me tell you why
I can see that you’re a customer, but I don’t know you, and I’m not going to lose my job for you
There’s a proper way to leave complaints, I can assure you they will be looked at
Yeah I hear that

Mole drives to the RF hotel. He’s talking on the phone all matter of fact like, pausing to draw on his vape in his other hand, all while grasping the steering wheel.

Around him masked protests dissolve into police checkpoints dissolve into open roads.

He stops at Toad’s mansion. Toad sends a drone down to talk to him because of corona.

Mole talks Toad into coming down with him. In a fit he drives him down to the hotel with him.

“What we are, everything we did - it’s all just a joke to these people. And we’ll never get those times back.”
It’s not Mole’s role to be a leader. But he is motivated and competent enough to get the job done. He wants his past back and hasn’t put much thought into his task besides just getting things started.

They talk about Fox, who they miss - who died at the con. Fox, the group leader - noble, clever, beautiful. They’ve fallen apart without him.
They try and have a buddy moment but it unwinds right at the end

It’s got to be right now, Toad. Right now, the hotel is desperate. They are just scraping by - they’ll make the deal.

At a rest stop, Mole is surrounded by animals, which terrifies him. He hops back in the car and starts screaming. He peels out, knocking the deformed deer down.

The last one in the room is Badger - the party animal.

Oh no - it’s Badger.

Mole is checking his phone in the car. 2000 favorites on his rf tweet. And he hasn’t even gone to the hotel yet. This has to work


    - Nature (Deer)
    - AltFurries (Toad)
    - Pups (Doberman)

Other characters

How do we open?

4 guys on a road trip, in a car covered in furry stickers. We get the feeling they are good friends and have been for a long time.

They drive past political signs, through rallies, past police and all sorts of crazy shit. Interspersed are bits of writing. They talk calmly of party plans. MC chats through phone. You only hear one side of conversation but there is a little sadness there. Implied - where they’re going they don’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

HE was just about all worn out, but round about June he has pulled himself together the strength for one last adventure.

the heat of June stirred him; and before long his clever mind was working again on plans long-abandoned, and by August he was ready to make this abstract idea concrete.

He has taken his friends on this journey, and though he is quietly desperate the mood is light and joyful.

On the way down a twisted figure stumbled onto the road before them. It once was a deer but was since a skeletal, papillomaed falsehood, a terrible facial fibroma twisting onto it a drooling leer. It did not comprehend what was wrong with itself and it was calm as it gasped for breath on its knees in the median, steam framed in headlights, and it watched back at them sidewise like a flatfish with its horrible twisted face.
We gotta help it.
Call the cops or something.
What are they going to do.
Fucking shoot it or something.
Behind them other lights began to line up in their mirrors, but nobody honked. Fox cracked his door. On quaking legs the deer squatted and pissed on the road, and then it lurched into the treeline on the far side where there was nothing but the ocean.

Presently, he remembers that he is asking his friends for a favor, and ventures to speak as to lessen his burden.

He is tired but he must speak. His friends are his friends but his ask is great.

Fox - sneaky, manipulative, stylish
Badger - big, slow, dumb, fun loving, but wise
Mole - small, sniveling, nobody listens to him.
Toad - battle buddy of Badger? Rich, dickhead. Like the guy from DA

Opener needs to illustrate

“Tassez-vous les pauvres” which roughly translates to “get out of my way your poor fucks”

That’s Jimmy. He don’t talk.
Oh, that’s all right. Pleased to meet you Jimmy.

Where’s .

Oh my god, I can’t believe it. How is this possible?

We’re in 2015 boys.

Where’s . He’s not in the bathroom

Gonna phone your parents?

Well, I guess we wouldn’t be furries if we had happy childhoods

Anyone had anyone die in the past couple years?
Oh shit…Bobby. Bobby died and he’s here


Holy shit it’s actually kind of expensive.
Want to split one with me?

I’m gonna buy a thousand. Wait a minute. Oh shit. No…I haven’t won the lottery yet. Oh no. I don’t remember the numbers. I’ll never get those numbers again. I’m broke

I haven’t DJed in 5 years

each of these men thought themselves irreparably broken

and saw their second chance in furry

but instead these fatherless men found primalcy

Alright, take five Jenny.
She’s great, isn’t she? You should’ve told us this was a big convention you were planning. I handle the bigger events myself.

So you want….and…and…
Oh, you want the dance hall? Hey, those comic nerds haven’t wanted to rent out the dance hall before, but that fortnite’s got the new generation dancing, right?
That’s a lot of rooms. Blah blah

Oh, but we have another event in the hotel at the same time, there might be some double bookings but let me see what I can do.

oh well maybe we can reschedule
No need, you’re both small events, we can squeeze you in.

You got the dance hall… no you don’t. My boys need that. My boys need the side lounge, the lobby… looks like your room blocks are gone too. It’s all fucking gone.

Mole drives to the RF hotel. He’s talking on the phone all matter of fact like, pausing to draw on his vape in his other hand, all while grasping the steering wheel.

Around him masked protests dissolve into police checkpoints dissolve into open roads.

He stops at Toad’s mansion. Toad sends a drone down to talk to him because of corona.

Mole talks Toad into coming down with him. In a fit he drives him down to the hotel with him.

“What we are, everything we did - it’s all just a joke to these people. And we’ll never get those times back.”
It’s not Mole’s role to be a leader. But he is motivated and competent enough to get the job done. He wants his past back and hasn’t put much thought into his task besides just getting things started.

They talk about Fox, who they miss - who died at the con. Fox, the group leader - noble, clever, beautiful. They’ve fallen apart without him.
They try and have a buddy moment but it unwinds right at the end

It’s got to be right now, Toad. Right now, the hotel is desperate. They are just scraping by - they’ll make the deal.

At a rest stop, Mole is surrounded by animals, which terrifies him. He hops back in the car and starts screaming. He peels out, knocking the deformed deer down.

The last one in the room is Badger - the party animal.

Oh no - it’s Badger.

To offbalance the slowness of the scene, we should feel the desperation during the car ride. Quick cuts with constant danger. Protestors. Fires. Masks. Riots. Flooding. It’s the end of the world.

Last paragraph of this section - how do we leave these characters before they arrive at the next section (the hotel) that shocks us slightly, and makes us believe we’ve seen something that we have never seen before?

What we say here is a promise to the reader that the rest of the story will be good.

Grand Flow of things

Conversation with hotel staff
Aftermath in room
A final walk around the grounds
Interlude with PoF
Discovery in morning
Setting out/fun time
Realization of responsibility
The call to action and the response
Adventure, peril, and narrow escapes - Hotel Security/Altf/
Interlude with PoF - dance
Reconciliation w/Hotel staff

A final walk around the grounds


Sees something shining in the flower bed
Digs out an old whipit and brushes it off

No, gentlemen, there will be no con, furry or otherwise.

Defeated, the characters return to the hotel room.

MC sees the Prince of the Forest through the window. He is cool looking - electric blue eyes. Neon.
The Prince is God. This scene is reverent.

The Prince approaches the window, and their eyes meet through the glass.
MC speaks: “Oh…it’s you. You’re beautiful…so beautiful. I’ve forgotten. Don’t run off… stay here with me, please. Just stay.”
The Prince throws off his hood.

Realizing himself suddenly, Jimmy drops his bottle and cleans himself up.

The old magic of this place is long dead, Jimmy. I do not like being here.

“But why? What is this?”
And a blinding anger suddenly flashes over him. He slaps the window. “Why have you come now? Why tonight, you fuck?”
“So many times, I needed you so bad. And now I’ve failed one more time. All that I’ve lost, you weren’t there then. Now I have nothing left to be worthy of you! Fuck off. Get the fuck out of here!”

The great head dipped then, and then a whisper, like the rustle of leaves. “Time is irrelevant. Place, not so. You are here.”

“Time IS relevant to me. An eternity. Five years of struggling, of watching everything crumble around me. And now I have nothing left.” He sobs. “Don’t waste your time with me.”

“It hasn’t been wasted yet.”

He pushes his head through the window. “Are you afraid of me, dear Jimmy?”

“Oh no, I could never be afraid of you. But I know I should be…I should be.”

Their lips meet.
“There are many things I can yet take from you, Jimmy. But perhaps just one thing, tonight.”


They wake up to the lyrics of “Stressed Out” by 21 Pilots: “But now I’m insecure, and I care what people think”

hisses stop stop stop

<he stops

Not tonight. Things got a little fucked up. I’m going to try again tomorrow, offer them more money.

<he advances again, moving the table out of the way

I did not come here to enforce a deadline. But he who would bear bad news should know to beware me.

Well, guess what, I fucked up again.

You have to get out of here! you’re gonna wake everyone up

You’re the only one they can hear.

Of all the miserable assholes in this world, why me?

Because you’re the only miserable asshole who can help me fix everything, Jimmy. And I think it’s time that I took what I need.

I’m going to take your time Jimmy - five years of it. Five wasted, disassociated, drunken years. You won’t miss a thing, my boy.

Of all the people in the world, why did you pick me

Because, none of them can help me.


Oh god…did you come for me? Did you come to take me away?

Boy. You’re jest a sorry sonuvabitch, aren’t you? The state of you, I’m thinkin I’m just wasting my time.

Nono not wasting your time please stay

Good thing, too. Good help’s hard to find of late. I aim to deputize me some good help.

Now, no more of that. I’m going to speak to you very simply and clearly, and if you know what’s best for you, you’ll listen and you’ll get your head together.

Hell fire.
Shit fire
wishing hell upon you
i don’t give a good shit

It is that.

Boy you’re a slow one ain’t ye

I got to get on

you aint one of those boys just fixing to get to know a man by the state of his dress, are you?

Hide in babyfur room
Babyfurs agree to disguise them
Con security busts in
They leave
The MCs leave - but babyfurs say “Don’t forget us”
Later, they stand up for them

One char is Indian
Fights like ghurkas against neo Nazis
One char is an rp warrior
But they fight together
Rp warriors account is like initiation to war

Quick 1-page mini comics with different chars to show quick passage of simultaneous time

Deer shows up and wants to hang out. He arrives bearing a drink and a joint.

They are immediately pulled into a party - each is pulled their own way into their own secret groups.

No we need to get back to the festival TRADITION

End of battle 1:

They’re lying around panting.

Fox looks at his watch.

Alright. Let’s get back to the party.

Furry news service

*well meaning authority but fucks everything up
-what are you going to do now?
-well I was thinking of getting the fuck out of here

Rules - nothing sketchy in the hall. Don’t damage the property.

Ah, wine. Not trying to brag or anything, but I am the hephaestus of alcohol to your kind. I once stepped through a vineyard and in my ruined wake left behind…this.

Characters look like furries so we can occasionally have a realistic fursuit scene

TOAD strikes a deal with the FURRY RAIDERS to rig a spot for him in the dance competition.