ZWÖLF - FACE YOUR FEARS, OR FACE THE END
Dale landed HARD. So hard, he made a chipmunk-shaped hole in the ground. That wasn’t too annoying in itself, but what was really annoying was the fact that his wife was under him. Both of them waited a moment for the pain to subside, and groggily, they stood up and climbed out of the hole. Foxglove was able to stretch her wings, with just a slight amount of pain, but a Batmunk-generated wind gust nearly blew her down. Her husband caught her in time, though. Butterbear and the rest of the Wuzzles padded next to them, and they all turned to look/echosound at the Batmunk flying toward another town. All ears and tails were low and stiff, and all still had their fur bristling.
“How could you do this?” asked Bumblelion, in shock. Dale’s anger was once again triggered by this accusation. He turned, grabbed Bumblelion’s chest fur and hide, pulled him close, and chattered,
“Listen you hybrid! Maybe that thing’s my son, and maybe I made mistakes raisin’ him, but if *he’s* wreckin’ *your* planet, why don’t YOU get YOUR army and weapons and STOP HIM??!!”
“Because he’s *your* son!” bellowed Rhinokey, behind him.
“Oh sure,” mocked Foxglove, crossing her wings in front of her, and looking/echosounding at him in contempt. “As if we have missiles and laser cannons and everything.” Mooseal said,
“But that’s just our problem! This has been a very peaceful planet, and we don’t have any huge weapons to fight him with! And as his parents, you’re the only ones who can do something about him!” Upon hearing this, the chipmunk calmed down a trifle and released Bumblelion, who patted his chest fur down.
“But what CAN we do?” he chattered, waving his paws. “We can’t exactly bend him over our knees, you know! Can’t you get huge doses of anæsthetic gas and try to knock him out with it?”
“And *then* what?” asked Eleroo. “Eventually, he’ll wake up again! We can’t destroy him, and we can’t send him to any other place because he will fly right back here!” Their argument was interrupted by the sounds of buildings collapsing and creatures screaming in terror. The Batmunk had arrived in the next city. They all whirled toward it, mouths open, frozen with shock.
“Please, help us!” pleaded Hoppo, clasping her paws in front of her. The couple turned to her, incredulous.
“But what can we do? We’re so small, and he’s so big!!” replied the bat lady. Then, both of them felt a soft paw on their shoulders. They both turned, and looked/echosounded at Butterbear, who suddenly had the most stone-faced, business-like expression they had ever seen.
“Do what you have to do.”
The couple looked/echosounded at each other again. They both knew what any self-respecting parents would do with a wayward child, but would it work in their case?
“Fly us to him, Foxy!” Dale suddenly chattered. “We have to try *somethin’*!”
“But what?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there! Come on!!” With a quick sigh, the pipistrell took to the air, grabbed her husband’s shoulders, and flew toward their wayward offspring. The distance didn’t seem that large, for some reason, and soon they were hovering next to its head. That was quite a feat for Foxglove, since the tamias-pipistrell was moving randomly, currently smashing down a structure that appeared to be a stadium, stirring up a very large dust cloud, and yet blowing it away from himself with all the movement from his wing-paws.
“Hey, son, could you stop a minute? We need to talk to you!” yelled the tamias. The Batmunk, holding one balled wing-paw up, glanced/echosounded at them, and replied,
“**I……DON’T……WANT……TO…… TALK……TO……YOU!!!!**” And he continued smashing his wing-paws on the stadium. The sciurid insisted,
“Son, please!! You’re hurtin’ a lot of people!! Why are you doin’ this??!!” The sciurid-verspetilionid turned and shriek-chattered,
“**BECAUSE……I……AM……ANGRY!!!!**” He said that so loud that he nearly blew his parents away. The verspetilionid managed to ride out the wind gust, and resumed her position beside her son’s head.
“Angry at what??!!” asked the chipmunk. The Batmunk was now stomping all over the stadium, reducing it to rubble. “ANGRY AT WHAT???!!!” yelled the rodent. Suddenly the rodent-chiropterid stopped stomping, turned to them, and yelled back,
“**ANGRY……AT……__YOU__!!!!!!!**” The chiropterid was able to dodge the wind gust, so they remained next to the monster. At this point, Dale’s mind was a total blank. If their son was angry with them, then he should at least remember what it was that he did to his son to make him so angry. The problem was that he had no specific memory of that The Batmunk moved off the stadium ruins and looked/echosounded for other structures to demolish. The bat lady followed him, and pleaded,
“Son, please, stop this!! You have every right to be angry at us, but you can’t go around destroying cities becau—”
“**SHUT……UP……LADY!!!!**” The roar blew them away again, momentarily.
At this point, something within Dale snapped.
Actually, something within Dale exploded.
And it exploded with such a tremendous force, that it blew away the Goof-up, the Klutz, the Clown, the Comedian, and all the other facets of his personality.
They gave way to a new facet, one that had never been present before, one that should have been born the moment his son was born, or even conceived.
This spoiled brat would now have to deal with the PARENT.
The FATHER.
The *DADDY*.
And giant monster or not, NO ONE talked back to Foxglove like that. No son of his would ever talk back to his mother and get away with it!
“Take us to his lower back!” he growled; his ears and tail as stiff as steel, and his back fur bristling. The pipistrell, however, was still stunned by the outburst. “Foxy, fly us near the lower back NOW!!” The tamias’ sudden command was enough to snap his mate back to reality. They had some trouble manœuvring around the actual tail as it waved randomly about like a whip, slicing through buildings. So many had been wrecked now that even with the monster waving his wing-paws around, the dust around them was getting extremely thick. For those with sonar abilities, it wasn’t much of a problem, except it was getting increasingly difficult to breathe. Coughing for a moment, Dale looked down, and saw that he was above the appropriate spot. “Okay, now let me go!!”
“What—COUGH!!”
“You heard me—COUGH!!—let me go!!” Praying that he knew what he was doing, the verspetilionid released her mate. The sciurid landed on the Batmunk’s right side, near the small of the back. He appeared to be small enough so that the Batmunk didn’t feel him drop and hang on to him, much less feel him scamper further and further down, that is, until Dale reached a particularly sensitive area. The Batmunk looked behind him—
“DON’TYOUDARETALKBACKTOYOURMOTHERLIKETHAT!!!” chattered the Father, and he slapped the Batmunk’s gluteus maximus as hard as he could.
Oddly enough, the Batmunk froze where he was. For a moment, anger and rage remained in his face, but it was slowly replaced by surprise—
And regret?
“NOWAPOLOGISETOYOURMOTHER!!!!” And he spanked him again. Strange expressions passed through the monster’s face, as if he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling. He appeared to be trying to say something. Then, gravity appeared to be taking over his ears and tail. Another spank.
“ISAIDAPOLOGISETOYOURMOTHERRIGHTNOWYOUNGMALE!!!”
The creature began to stutter, and his eyes started to moisten. His ears and tail were now fully laid back, and his bristled back was smooth again.
“**M……M……MOMMY???**”
His voice didn’t sound so low anymore. And for some reason, he didn’t seem so tall anymore, either. Furthermore, the dust cloud seemed to retreat from them, but it still covered the rest of the city. Dale didn’t seem to notice that, or anyone else, for that matter. Foxglove hovered in front of his face. Her own face showed both anger and sadness.
“What do you say?” asked the Mother.
“*M……M……MOMMY…………I’M……I’M…………SORRY……*”
“SORRYFORWHAT??!!” chattered the Father, spanking him again. He had to move up the back since his son was shrinking more and more.
“*M……Mommy? I’m…………sorry I……talked back at you……*” The Mother now had to land, but she was still looking up at her son. The Father finally jumped off him, but he continued,
“NOWAPOLOGISETOME!!” The Batmunk turned and continued shrinking, and now he was crying openly,
“D-Daddy? I’m—I’m sorry I yelled at you! I’m sorry I kept smashing you down!!”
“WELLNOWYOU’LLGETWHAT’SCOMIN’TOYOUMISTEROAKMONT!!” The Father sat on a piece of rubble, pulled the Batmunk to him, bent him over his knee, and gave him five more blows to his gluteus maximus. The Batmunk was downright wailing.
“Daddy! Daddy! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!” The Father pulled him back to his foot-paws, looked at him in the eye, and continued,
“You’re grounded for a month, and no monster movies or cartoons for you durin’ that time, is that clear??!!” The Batmunk was crying so hard he couldn’t talk anymore, so he just nodded, accepting his punishment. His face was distorted as pain and regret and repentance made his lips sag, reminding Dale of when *he* was a cub and when *he* was taken to the bottom of the tree by either his father or mother for a few sessions of their own—
And he hugged his son tightly, crying as well. Foxglove, weeping as well, wrapped her wings around them. After a long moment, Dale pulled his son back, and looked into his eyes again.
“Your first spankin’?” The Batmunk was hiccupping so hard he still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded again. Maybe if they had done this sooner there wouldn’t be so much wreckage. “Mine, too, as a father, that is.” The Father’s back fur settled down, and his harsh voice was now replaced by a soft, slower one, “Look, son, buildin’s are very expensive, and the Wuzzles here use them to work and live in, like our house! You wouldn’t like it if someone came to the park and knocked down our tree just because he was angry?” The hybrid shook his head in regret. “Son, it’s okay to feel angry, but it’s *not* okay to destroy cities because of it. If you feel angry, tell us, and we’ll see if we can deal with it, okay?” The Batmunk nodded. “Good. Now remember, we both love you, and want what’s best for you. I’m not angry at *you*, I’m angry at what you did—and at what I *should* have done before to stop it. Now, what are you goin’ to do the next time you get angry?”
“I’m—I’m goin’ to tell you so we can deal with it,” sobbed his son.
“And are you going to destroy cities?” asked the Mother, wiping away her son’s tears, as well as her own.
“N—no.”
“Not unless they’re sandcastles you built yourself, is that clear?” The male cub smiled a trifle as he looked at his sire. Ears were raised again.
“Y—yes—Father.”
There, it was official.
Dale was a FATHER.
“And are you goin’ to talk back at your Mother again?”
“No,” he sobbed, shaking his head again. His hiccupping was subsiding.
“And are you goin’ to smash me into the ground again?” asked the Father, with a hint of annoyance. The Batmunk shuddered as he took a deep breath, looked/echosounded into his Father’s eyes, and replied,
“N-no.” The chipmunk sighed.
He had won.
“Okay, we forgive you then. But this better not happen again, is that clear?” The Batmunk looked/echosounded at the ground.
“Yes, Daddy.” His voice was full of regret.
“Well, come here then!” The Father picked up his son and gave him a big hug, which was once again joined by the Mother. Moments later, the other Wuzzles emerged from the dust cloud and ran/flew up to them.
“Hey, you defeated him!” roar-buzzed Bumblelion.
“No,” corrected Dale, looking at him. “We *disciplined* him. We want to correct him, not break his spirit!” The bat lady turned to her son,
“Now, dear, what do you say to all the nice Wuzzles whose cities you wrecked?” The hybrid turned to the Wuzzles, lowered his ears again, and whimpered,
“I’m—I’m sorry I destroyed your cities. I won’t do it again. Will you please forgive me?” With low, stiff ears and raised hackles, the Wuzzles looked at the Batmunk with the ultimate expressions of RAGE—
“P-please don’t be angry at me!!” he wailed, starting to cry all over again, and he tried to hide behind his Father.
“Hey, we’re just kidding!” chuckled Rhinokey, as everyone reset their features. “If you won’t do it again, then of *course* we forgive you!!” The Wuzzles padded over and expressed their forgiveness to the cub by patting his head and shaking his wing-paws, and by now all back fur, ears, and tails were relaxed. The Batmunk soon dried his tears and was smiling again at all the love he was receiving, and *had* received, even if it was tough love. The Wuzzles introduced themselves to him, and when that was done, Dale put him down. In his “normal” size, the Batmunk was no higher than Dale’s waist was.
“Well, son, we’d better see about gettin’ home.” The three held paws/wings together, turned, and were about to leave, but Bumblelion said,
“Hey, wait! Didn’t you say you were here on vacation?” The family turned to them, and Dale replied,
“Well, we *were*, but with everythin’ that happened here, I guess it’s best if we leave.”
“No, wait,” said Butterbear, padding up to them. “We know you two wanted time for yourselves, so, as our thanks for helping us bring your son under control, we’ll baby-sit him for you while you enjoy yourselves!” The couple looked/echosounded into each other’s eyes, about to ask each other about this.
And it seemed as if Fall Fever fell on *both* of them.
HARD.
“Okaynoproblemwithus!” chattered Dale, suddenly starting to get fidgety, and trying very hard to calm himself. “You take good care of him, and we’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.”
“Oh, boy! Now I’ve got new friends!!” exclaimed the Batmunk, hovering slightly. “Hey, Dad, does this mean I’m not grounded anymore?”
“NO,” he said firmly, lowering his ears and staring into his son’s eyes, which made him and his features land suddenly. “Your punishment starts the moment we get home, is that clear?” Downcast, the hybrid replied,
“Yes, Daddy.” Not wishing to see him leave like that, Dale raised his ears again and added,
“But you can have all the fun your new friends let you, as long as you don’t wreck anymore cities, okay?” The hybrid’s features perked up again.
“Oh! Okay! Thanks, Daddy!” He ran over and hugged his father as tightly as he could, and then turned and did the same to his mother. “Thanks, Mommy!” The he ran back to the Wuzzles and said, “Come on guys, let’s have some fun!” He looked at his parents and said, “Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! Have fun! See you later!”
“See you later, Sweetie! Have fun!” replied the Mother. With that, their son and the Wuzzles padded back into the dust cloud, and as they did, the disembodied voice spoke again, but this time, the couple didn’t seem to mind,
“Well, it looks like the Wuzzles made new friends today, and they all learned something about discipline. And so ends another day in the land of Wuz…” The voice was replaced by what sounded like the song they first heard, except that it was only an instrumental, like what would be played during the end credits in a cartoon. What was more, both of them *thought* they saw some credits flash on the dust cloud in front of them, but they were too blurry to see/hear clearly. The song faded away just as the others were out of sight and sound. The bat lady put one wing around her husband, and said,
“What a great father you are, Cutie. I *knew* you had it in you.” The chipmunk looked down a trifle,
“Yeah, but *I* didn’t know that until a few moments ago.”
“Aw, Cutie,” she took him into her wings. “You learned from the best, and any more problems that we may have, we’ll solve them together, and if we need help, we have many friends willing to help us.” Dale looked up and sighed with relief.
He had shown his son love, and though he and Foxglove would make mistakes, there was plenty of love to cover those mistakes.
His son, and whatever other cubs they might have, would turn out okay, if not better, than himself.
He finally knew he had what it took to be a Father.
His fear was gone.
His phobia had vanished.
He turned and looked into her eyes.
She looked/echosounded into his eyes.
Ears were raised and tails swished.
Fall Fever was definitely working overtime now.
They saw/heard their souls within each other.
They remembered that they were now part of each other, body, mind, and spirit.
They saw/heard passion.
They saw/heard love.
They saw/heard peace.
They saw/heard joy.
They saw/heard kindness.
They saw/heard tenderness.
They saw/heard laughter.
They saw/heard humour.
They saw/heard strength.
They saw/heard expectancy.
And with all traces of fear of the future now gone, they saw/heard extreme eagerness as well.
Instantly, they were next to the small lake again.
Foxglove took his paw and kissed his thumb digit.
Dale took her wing and kissed her thumbclaw as well.
They pressed their muzzles together and kissed deeply.
Fall Fever couldn’t have landed on them in a better time or place.
This was the perfect time.
This was the perfect place.
It was time for *MORE*—
Suddenly, Dale awakened and sat up in his bed, with his ears perked up. It only took him a moment to realise he was back in his own room, and once that reckoning was finished, he immediately realised that something within him had changed.
He wasn’t afraid anymore!
He had to tell his mate the great news and *finally* get some action going, so he turned and—
Foxglove wasn’t next to him. He looked up, but she wasn’t above him, either. Glancing all over the room, he saw that she had left, for some reason.
*Oh, no you don’t. You said you needed me, and I need _you_ now, baby!* In a flash, he jumped off the bed…
The chiropterid was at the front door and reached to grab the knob—
“*Where* do you think *you’re* goin’?” asked the rodent, suddenly grabbing her wing. Foxglove gasped as she turned to him. She was so caught up in her own worries and trying to push down her desires that she didn’t hear Dale pad up to her. But what was even *more* surprising was the look on her mate’s face. She was about to lower her ears because he seemed angry, but then she noticed it was a playful kind of angry, as his smile showed. At that moment, she caught a glimpse of a spark in his eyes, a spark that she hadn’t seen since the night he had his first nightmare. Suddenly she began feeling nervous herself, perhaps just as nervous as he had been before when she was coming on to him, so her ears *did* lower.
“Uh, Cutie, I was getting a bit restless so I decided to go to the pharmacy to get some more suppressants. We agreed to that. Then I was going to do some hunting as well—” GAZING sinisterly into her eyes, he replied,
“Oh, no, you’re not.” He bent down, grabbed his wife by the waist, and lifted her over his left shoulder. The pipistrell nearly squealed in surprise, but as the tamias carried her down the hall, she raised her ears again and began giggling, partly because of his impulsiveness, and partly because her tail was way up in the air, well, higher than her head normally was.
“Cutie?” she giggled. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain in the mornin’. Right now we have more important things to do—and to catch up on!!” Still keeping his angry face, the rodent stomped back to the bedroom, carried her inside, and threw the chiropterid on the bed, where she landed flat on her back, spreading her wings as she bounced a trifle. She giggled and smiled seductively at him as she looked/echosounded at him. This was certainly a nice surprise. The sciurid then turned around, closed the door, and locked it.
“You’re not leavin’ this room until I say you can!” he growled, turning back to gaze sinisterly at her. For a moment, the verspetilionid became scared, not at his growling, but at what lay ahead. Thinking about it more carefully, however, caused her heart, emotions, hormones, and Fall Fever, to go into overdrive. Ears perked up and tails swished in expectancy.
Dale pulled off his nightshirt.
He wouldn’t be needing it for a while now.
A *long* while.
“*……Luceeeeeeeeeelle……!!!*”
And with a mighty roar, Dale Segoleh Oakmont took one giant leap forward.
“*…oh, Foxy…*”
The nightmare was over, but the night went on, and on, and on, partially thanks to the added endurance brought by the gym workouts…
A *beautiful* night…