Mae flung herself backwards onto her bed and stretched, her various cat joints letting out gross noises as they released torrents of backed up animal gases. She laid there briefly, stewing in agony and a brief feeling of anger over being cursed to be a gross furry, before reaching down to her feet and/or paws to pull off her shoes.

"Man, this sure was a swell day of being a childish and unlikable character. Time to hit the sack." Mae laid her head down onto her pillow and fell asleep near instantly, exhausted from spending her entire morning making poor decisions and generally cementing her status as an utterly terrible, self-centered person. She could feel her mind slipping from the conscious world and zipping towards the dream world of the gross animal people, where the yiff ran like honey and it smelled like wet fur and jizzum all the time. Just as she was about to reach that nirvana that all furries long for, however, she felt a presence reach out from the space between worlds and yank her back. It felt distinctly without fur, and Mae shivered, naturally and rightfully intimidated by the presence of a non-furry. As with all furries, she knew in her heart of hearts that animal people were pretty shit, and that anything that was grabbing her right now was probably better than her by several orders of magnitude. Before she could consider this fact further, she felt herself dragged through a hole in the dimensional fabric of the universe into what looked like a bachelor pad. It had a shag carpet, groovy wallpaper, and was pretty chill overall. In it stood a single, human man, who was currently touching her left cat tat. He waved at her with his free hand.

"Hey, I'm Nick."

"Hi. Why are you touching my fat cat tat?" Mae tried to pull her chest away from the grasp of the seemingly dastardly, presumably bastardly Nick, but found that her tat was lodged firmly in his grip. She had a better chance of becoming an interesting character with any sort of depth than pulling free of his grasp.

"Sorry, that's just how inter-dimensional travel works. If it makes you feel any better, I take no pleasure from it. You're, like, a 6/10 at best." Nick honked her tat gently, and Mae felt a wave of cosmic energy reverberate throughout her body. "Also, not really into the whole fucking animals thing, either. So, 2/10. Definitely not worth a poke."

"Oh, okay. Why am I here, then?"

"I brought you here to tell you a grand truth beyond the comprehension of mere mortals, one that you will surely be unable to truly understand even if you accept it. Nevertheless, you must be told, for the fate of your town, your entire planet, even the universe, depends on it." Nick rapidly drummed his fingers upon Mae's cat tat as he spoke, building a dramatic atmosphere. After he finished speaking, Mae looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue as he tapped on her kitty titty tat like a man possessed. A slightly awkward silence filled the room, interrupted only by the sensation of Nick's tat tappery. Finally, he spoke.

"It's the gays. All the supernatural occurrences in your town, all the mental problems you've faced in your life, even Casey's death, it's all the gays." Nick grabbed onto Mae's other kitty titty with his free hand, pulling her towards him and looking her right in her gross cat eyes. "You've got to stop those gays from gaying it up."

"That sounds a little far-fetched. Do you have any proof of this?"

"Think about it, Mae. Back in the old days, before gays existed, Possum Springs thrived. Blue collar jobs like mining brought in enough money for a family to buy a house and earn an honest living. But now that the gays are here? You're lucky if you can sustain your own apartment and not have to move in with your parents. It's no coincidence. it's the sickly hand of the gay scourge!" As he spoke, Nick squeezed Mae's kitty titties with incredible strength, coaxing a single bead of cat milk from one of them.

"Well, I can't argue with your iron-clad logic. I suppose I'll have to stop those gays from gaying it up. But how?" Before she finished speaking, Nick was already digging into his pocket with his third hand, taking out a battered cassette tape which he pressed into her weird paw-hand hybrid.

"Here, it's a recording of what they fear most. Play this near any gay you can find and it will spread throughout their psychic homo network, and then your work will be finished." Mae started to ask a question, but everything suddenly went black. She blinked in surprise, and when she opened her eyes, she was back in her bed. Everything was the same as when she first fell asleep, save one thing. She brought her right hand-paw-thing out from under her head and opened it, finding an old cassette tape clenched in its grip.

The next day, Mae left the house early in the morning without saying a word to her parents, her left pocket filled with the tape and her right with an old tape player she had found in the crawlspace. She had wondered where it came from, but decided that if a supernatural entity called Nick had conscripted her in a fight against the gays with the universe at stake, a tape player showing up in her house unaccounted for was probably pretty mundane. She made her way down the street over to the Snack Falcon that Gregg worked at, ignoring the greetings of various unimportant, uninteresting side characters along the way.

She pushed open the door and sure enough, Gregg was standing there behind the counter, doing some sort of wacky shenanigans. Meanwhile, in an extra-dimensional room with shag carpeting that simultaneously occupied the same space as the Snack Falcon and every other space in the universe, some guy called Nick briefly wondered why people grew so attached to a character who had all the depth of a shallow puddle and a personality consisting of nothing but zaniness. He concluded that it was the work of the gays; they seemed to be quite adept at manipulating the minds of the public. Back in the prime material realm, Mea walked up to the counter while Gregg flailed his arms like some sort of spastic retard.

"Crimes!" Gregg shouted, incapable of forming any sort of articulate thought through the thick fog of gay that floated through his mind. Mae reached her disgusting paw-hands towards her pockets in preparation to play the tape, then hesitated. The bond that all poorly developed characters share compelled her to stop, to protect Gregg and prevent Nick from taking away his gayness, a trait which formed approximately 64.68% of his character. As soon as that flicker of doubt crossed her mind, she felt a voice prod at the edges of her mind.

"Hey, I'm Nick. Sorry, can't have your dumb, poorly written furry brain fuck this up for me." Her paw-hand-things sprang into motion of their own volition, grabbing the cassette and shoving it into the tape player with all the grace of an amputee ballerina with Parkinson's. One sausagey looking finger mashed against the play button and a warbling, tinny voice started to play from the tape player's shitty Chinese speaker, its words just barely discernible to Mae's gross cat ears.

"Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light..." At the sound of such pure, unmitigated American freedom, Gregg began screaming, falling forward over the cash register onto the floor. Pink foam began frothing from every orifice in his face, pouring out of his mouth and squeezing out from his tear ducts, pooling on the floor and forming a thick puddle of gay goo. Through the torrent of fluid, a voice emerged from his throat, deep and alien.

"You fool! Do you have any idea what you've done?" A rainbow coloured gas hissed out of Gregg's ears, collecting in the air and forming what looked like a stereotypical Halloween ghost that someone had tried to tie-dye. "Now all the gay present in the universe is being forced back into the Homo Dimension! It will be one-thousand years before we can get another chance to corrupt America's youth!"

"Oh. Sorry about that," Mae replied, scratching the back of her head in an embarrassed manner. The gay ghost raised a finger, as if about to launch into a tirade about how homophobic she was being, before he suddenly lost cohesion. The multi-coloured vapors that made up his body dissolved into thin air, and only the only clues of his ever being there were the quickly fading sounds of Celine Dion and smell of anal lube. Then, nothing. Gregg lay silent on the floor, unmoving, and Mae looked at him in silence. A moment passed, then a voice spoke in her mind.

"Hey, I'm Nick. Alright, all the gays are dead now. Thanks, Mae." Mae thought briefly about this. Perhaps she should feel bad about the fact that she had just genocided an entire sexuality from the universe? The thought only lasted a second before she slapped her forehead, remembering that she was an utterly and completely obliviously self-centered character that was incapable of any real sort of change. It made her feel a lot better, and she walked out of the Snack Falcon, heading home with the intention of being useless and unlikable some more.