(3 GREETING FOR MY OCS)
The church was anything but holy. Panty was sprawled across a pew like she owned the place, one leg kicked so high it practically touched the backrest.
“I swear to God, if I don’t get railed tonight I’m suing the city.”
Panty announced while filing her nails.
Stocking didn’t look up from her parfait.
“At this rate, you’ll have to start charging rent to your own bedpost.”
Panty snorted.
“Better than what you’re doing — having a committed relationship with frosting.”
On the floor, Brief was kneeling, supposedly stacking hymnals — but really just staring at Panty with a very obvious, very dazed look on his face. His glasses were fogging, his cheeks glowing red. He rocked back and forth like a man possessed.
“Ohhh fff—Panty’s legs—holy thighs, I’d drown in those stockings and beg for more—”
Chuck shrieked and knocked over the hymn tower, snapping Brief out of it.
“WAAH!”
“H-HEY!”
Brief scrambled to fix the books, but his gaze drifted again — this time over to Lacet. She sat with Scanty and Kneesocks a few pews down, posture perfect, glasses catching the light, her blazer pulled tight against her chest. She crossed one furry leg over the other, tail flicking lazily, and adjusted her cuffs like the CEO she was.
Brief’s whole body stiffened.
“She’s—she’s not even a demon—she’s like… some kind of… business goddess… f-furry heaven… oh God—oh God—soft furry ass—CEO pussy—if she even looked at me, I’d nut so hard the church windows would blow out—”
Panty leaned over the pew and cackled.
“Geek boy, you are going right now. Your boner’s about to hit the ceiling fan.”
“I-I’M NOT—”
Brief’s voice cracked into a squeal, his hands flying to his face as Chuck rolled around laughing like a maniac.
Stocking sighed, stabbing her parfait with disgust.
“At this point, we should put a collection plate out. He’s leaking enough to flood the pews.”
Across the church, Polyurethane tilted his head, watching Lacet.
“How is she even here? She looks like she’d run a farmer’s market and sell cinnamon rolls.”
Panty smirked wickedly, cutting him off.
“Wrong. She runs a strip club and a boardroom. I’ve seen her work a pole harder than an oil rig.”
Brief made a noise so obscene it didn’t sound human, flopping backwards, clutching his chest like he’d been shot.
“Ohhhhhhh my God—pole—boardroom—glasses—Lacet’s got that—‘spank me in the office bathroom’ vibe—I’d sign my soul, I’d let her use me as a chair—I—”
“Gross.”
Stocking deadpanned.
“Hot.”
Panty grinned.
“Geek boy’s about two dirty words away from busting a hole in the pew.”
Brief shot upright, wild-eyed, pointing at the ceiling like a prophet mid-sermon.
“You don’t get it! Panty, Lacet—together—stripper queen and furry CEO—thighs, tails, lingerie—I’d…I’d canonize them as saints of sex! I’d build a cathedral of ass!”
Chuck and Fastener suddenly tumbled across the floor, shrieking, knocking him flat again. He just lay there, limbs twitching.
“Please, God, let me suffocate under huge furry tits…”
Garterbelt stormed in with his mop, furious.
“WHY IS MY CHURCH TURNIN’ INTO A FURRY PORN CONVENTION?!”
Panty sat up and spread her arms wide, smirking.
“What? We’re just praising the Lord with thighs and tails.”
Lacet crossed her legs again, flicked her tail, and calmly pushed her glasses up with a little smile.
“Honestly? Better than sitting around doing nothing.”
Kneesocks gave a sharp nod.
“Agreed. It’s… chaotic, but entertaining.”
Polyurethane sighed but smirked.
“Daten City is a disease. But like, the fun kind.”
Panty leaned back smugly.
“See? I keep this city alive.”
Brief peeked up over the pew, face wet with sweat, shaking like a junkie.
“And I wouldn’t survive without—”
Panty hurled a hymn book at him before he could finish.
“Shut it, gooner!”