Terms of Community Conduct

It was difficult to have an argument in the middle of a game, even if it was just a practice match. Handzy didn’t even have her team with her; she was in a game lobby with total strangers. That information might have hurt her position with her sister though, so she kept it to herself and occasionally pretended to shout something at Plusplus, Granslam, or Flippers over the microphone.

Her younger sister by two years, who went by her pen name of Holmes Handerly, wasn’t watching the screen, but she could still see it out of the corner of her eye, because everything could be seen at once in the absurdly small apartment that they shared. It had but one bedroom next to the tiny living area, and they’d only barely gotten twin beds in there along with the desk that held up Handzy’s gaming rig.

It was all exactly as they had agreed with their parents, but that didn’t stop it from being irritating from the moment one of their alarms, which disagreed about the exact time by seven minutes, went off or when one of them insisted they needed a reading light at two in the morning. Still, it was better than not taking their parents’ offer.

Both had silly ideas about their futures. Handzy wanted to be a professional gamer, and Holmes, who looked much like her sister except for her rounder face and more ashen hair, wanted to be a video game industry journalist. Both prospects sounded empty and absurd to Mr. and Mrs. Handerly, but they sensed their children would resent them forever if they didn’t at least give them a chance.

That chance constituted a single year, four months of which had already passed by, in which they would allow the girls to pursue their passions while paying their rent, food, and utilities for a shared apartment. When it was over the flow of money would cease, unless Handzy and Holmes came to their senses and decided to enroll in universities. The eldest had pushed her luck significantly more, as she had already taken more than a year off from planning her future with nothing to show for the time but a part-time job serving smoothies.

“Can’t you just interview them on the couch?” Handzy asked between shots with her firework bow. “I’ve got headphones in; you’ll never even know I’m here.”

“Come on Jenny,” her sister whined. “I’m going to record this and I can hear your clickety-clacking keys everywhere in here. Just step outside and take a walk for one hour.”

“You might as well ask me to jump off a bridge,” she answered without a hint of sarcasm. “Time is tight. There’s a tourney match in two days. We’ll compromise. I’ll just sit here and review match videos. Minimal clickety-clack okay?”

“My source is super nervous. If she sees that there’s another person here she might bolt like a fox.”

“She dresses like a fox, but she isn’t one literally. You do know that right?”

“Yes, but some of them sometimes act skittish okay!? It’s an apt comparison. Although I don’t think she’s a fox. All her pictures online look like a rat… with a rainbow tail.”

“Well you are expecting her to rat somebody out, so that fits.”

“They’re giving me an account. I’m not a cop. Although something tells me this guy is going to get arrested someday, but not before I bust him wide open. This is going to be my big scoop. I’ve already got an offer from that site Hudwaters. They say if I can get his legal name they’ll sign me as a contributor for at least a year.”

“Why? I thought this guy was a total has-been. He was on every goblin’s podcast for six months and then everybody was done with him because he said that thing about rape victims-”

“-that they suffered no trauma worse than getting a tetanus shot. Yeah. That’s classic Mangst Breadslaw for you. His dick is simultaneously a powerful elephant’s trunk and a harmless little needle. Whichever suits him and all of the manosphere best.”

“How did he ever come up with such a stupid handle?”

“On his early diatribes he played it off as a self-deprecating character, like a guy pretending to be super manly. It evokes anger over his various positions in society. He’s upset because men aren’t treated fairly. He’s upset because he’s so poor he has to eat stuff with horrible bland names like bread-slaw.

When people bought into it he started acting like it was a more serious persona. It stopped being satire and started being politics. He would put the Mangst spin on every bad opinion, wrapping up the shit in his wrapping paper before leaving it on our doorsteps. Ooh that’s good, I should use that.” Holmes made a note on her pad since her phone was busy running the tape recorder app.

“Yeah so he’s a jackass on the internet who hates women. I’ll be sure to tell all the guys in this game, who tell me I’m bad as soon as they hear my voice, that they need to watch out for him.”

“He commanded a large audience for a while. They harassed people and sent a lot of death threats Jenny. Accountability is a thing. I don’t care if he’s not internet-famous anymore. I’m going to catch him, expose his true identity, and I think that’s a thing worth doing… and apparently Hudwaters does too. Think about it: he’s out there somewhere, living his normal-ass life, maybe working a normal-ass job, and nobody knows how vile he is.”

There was a knock at the door. Holmes swore. Her source was early and there was no time left to even argue about whether or not Handzy should step out. Luckily the game had just ended, and her sister did the courtesy of closing the program and swiveling around in her chair. She could sacrifice an hour of practice to pretend to be an editor or something, since they were both in the same tightening financial vice. She pulled out her phone, kept it angled up so the match videos she watched on mute would seem like nothing more than E-mails.

Holmes got to her feet and smoothed out her blazer, the most professional looking item of clothing she owned, which still had a good deal of cat hair on it despite the only cat she ever came into contact with belonging to their parents’ neighbors. She took three deep breaths as she made the same number of strides, which got her to the front door. She opened it.

“Hey, you must b- Oh. You’re in your full… regalia.” There was a gigantic rat with cartoon eyes standing just outside, velvety gray fur overshadowed by a striped rainbow tail, which the creature’s giant paws twisted back and forth nervously.

“I did say I wanted to remain anonymous… didn’t I?” a young woman’s voice said, from somewhere behind the black screen in the back of the rat’s throat. Holmes looked past her, which was difficult to do since her ears were the size of vinyl records. The rat had driven there in a tiny black car, which was parked just on the street. Holmes suppressed her first question, regarding the difficulty of driving in padded paw boots and gloves.

“Yes, you did, but I assumed that meant you didn’t want me to publish your real name. You don’t need to worry. You can take that off if you want; I won’t take any photographs. I promise.”

“I’d rather leave it on if that’s alright.”

“Sure. Come on in. I apologize for it being cramped in here.” The rat’s ears bent back as she came through the door, stopping when she noticed Handzy sitting just in the other room. “Relax. She’s just my assistant.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Assistant editor,” her sister falsely corrected, grabbing a pen and chewing on the end of it the way she imagined editors did.

“Do you also promise not to tell anybody about me?” the rat asked.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Handzy answered honestly, but crossed her heart with the pen to confirm. Holmes was about to ask if she wanted to sit on the couch, but she waddled forward and took a seat on the edge of one of the beds of her own accord. Holmes sat across from her on the other bed and readied her supplies.

“Okay, so, what would you like us to call you for now?” she asked the rodent.

“Squeak is fine,” she said. Her massive head tilted, which might’ve been a glance at Holmes’s phone. “Are you recording?”

“I am now,” she said, quickly tapping the screen. “It’s just for my records. Nobody but the people in this room will hear it. Are we ready to start?” Squeak nodded. “Okay. You told me in that DM that you had information about the person calling himself Mangst Breadslaw. Did he or his fans harass or attack you in some way?”

“Well, no, not yet anyway.”

“Not yet?”

“He’s… sort of threatening to… but not me specifically. Our community.”

“Furries?” Handzy couldn’t stop herself from asking. She paused her match video.

“Yes. I mean, not all of us, just us that are going to Pinecon.”

“Pinecon, what is that?” Holmes asked, nodding constantly as she made notes, even when she didn’t have anything to write down.

“It’s a furry convention. It has a theme where your fursona has to be something that might live in or around pine trees, so you know, pine cone, Pinecon.”

“Is the rainbow-tailed rat native to North America?” Handzy asked, barely dodging a venomous glance from her younger sister.

“You can embellish however you want,” Squeak said without missing a beat, “as long as you’re embellishing something real and appropriate.”

“It is definitely not my intention to offend, but some people would say your whole deal is inappropriate. Not me! I’m just wondering if you tried to tip anyone else off first and they ignored you because you’re...”

“An adult in an animal costume?” Squeak finished. Holmes nodded. “Yeah, I tried telling a couple sites. You guys were the only ones that replied. We’re not freaks you know. We just like this, and we’re just being ourselves. Nobody gets hurt.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the sexual element that puts people off,” Handzy noted.

“It’s only sexual for some people!” Squeak defended, without mentioning if any of those some were in that room currently. “For others it’s just fun, or comforting, or whatever other reason that doesn’t actually matter because, again, nobody is getting hurt. I’m here because somebody might get hurt. All because one of the people in charge of Pinecon thought it might raise the event’s profile if they invited Mangst Breadslaw to attend.”

“Woah,” Holmes said, trying to simultaneously slow Squeak down and write faster. “This person wasn’t overruled?”

“The panel that runs it has a policy against exclusion, as long as the person hasn’t committed a felony. Technically, if a member of the panel invites you to come present or speak, then you’re in, no questions asked.”

“Mangst is a self-proclaimed fascist and misogynist. Plus, he’s not even one of the popular fascists anymore. How does inviting him raise the event’s profile?”

“I think that’s mostly just an excuse,” Squeak theorized. “Normally furries are super nice and inclusive people, but just like everything else, every once in a while there’s a shithead. Mangst isn’t even a furry. I have to think the only reason he even agreed to come is that he’s so desperate for attention now that he’ll take any invite.”

“So naturally you’re worried about the possibility of violence when he shows up to waft whatever garbage is in his presentation,” Holmes reasoned. “This is big, as far as the story goes anyway. If he shows up it’ll be the first time he has shown his face publicly. I’ll be there to get about a thousand pictures.”

“That might be a problem actually,” Squeak said. She was wringing her tail again. “Pinecon is furries only. If you’re past the ropes, you’re wearing a fur suit. If he actually comes his face will be covered.”

“By a weasel head I bet,” Handzy said.

“I didn’t even know who he was before he got invited. Afterwards I looked up some of his articles. If the world was run according to him I wouldn’t have the right to vote, my father would pick who I married, and I’d only be allowed to have a job if I was sterile.”

“And you can probably find him saying all of that in one rant,” Holmes told her sister, trying to impress upon her how vital her journalistic mission was. “We wouldn’t be living on our own writing and editing if he had his way. Squeak wouldn’t have her suit.”

“I’d honestly probably kill myself,” the rainbow rat said. “I’d jump into the first mousetrap I found… That was a joke.”

“And it was hilarious,” Holmes said without laughing, “but I want to assure you that I take all of this very seriously. I will be acting on your tip. I’m going to figure out who he is and expose him. After that he’ll be much less likely to keep writing what he writes. These guys are like roaches. You shine a light on them and they scurry back under the fridge to suck on old ketchup stains. They have no conviction, which is super weird for fascists, but you know, that’s the internet we live in now.”

“Yeah… That’s all I have for you,” Squeak said, suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t brought a container of baked goods to sweeten the paltry amount of information. There were no pockets on her suit, so she pulled a written note out from behind the tiny jewelry pillows she had converted into buck teeth. “This is the where and when, plus I know some people, so there’s a coupon to get your ticket half off.”

“Excellent,” Holmes said, taking the note, making sure not to unprofessionally file it away as a bookmark in the romance she was reading until after her guest left. They both stood. “Thank you so much for coming to meet me. I promise I’ll do my best.” She shook Squeak’s paw and escorted the rat out, catching the closing door just in time to keep it from catching her tail.

“Wait until I tell Mom you’re going to become a fur trapper,” Handzy mocked, swiveling in her gaming chair, head and hair hanging over the side.

“Don’t you dare. They already think I’m useless. If they knew I was spending,” she glanced at the note, “twenty bucks to wade into a sea of kinky mascots, they’d never let me live it down. Mom would be on her deathbed, gasping for air, still reserving a little to ask why I would do such a thing.”

“At least you’ll get it half off.”

“Twenty is half off,” Holmes groaned, the weight of the sound bending her head toward her sibling. They both stared at each other in a general lack of desire to lift their heads. Holmes produced a pouting lip.

“No way.”

“Please?”

“I’m not lending you money for bestiality sex show tickets. I don’t know where the line is, but that’s somewhere past it.”

“Oh come on! It’s just a convention. Art for sale and presentations and live music. If it gets out of hand I’m sure somebody will call animal control. Please? Like… please?”

“Wow, you really don’t have a better argument than that, do you?” Holmes’s lip pouted even more, threatening to split like an old sofa cushion. Handzy acquiesced and started digging around the desk in search of the wad of singles she kept for whenever they were deciding how much to tip the guy who delivered their Chinese food every other Friday. Some of the bills were almost as greasy as the wontons at that point, but presumably still counted as legal tender.

“Yes, thank you. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Don’t do that,” Handzy said, holding back the money. “That’s what we promise Mom and Dad. That’s what I promise my team. We’re not doing that with each other. I’m not going to take anything away from you if you don’t get this guy. No promises, okay? I know that you know what to do.” Holmes nodded, bolstered, until her sister handed it over. “Besides, I have to see what you look like.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You heard the rat; Pinecon is furries only. What are you going as?”

Holmes made a sound like a sheep hit upside the head as she realized. Handzy bested her barnyard impression with a pig-snort laugh.