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There was a ladder on the sidewalk, left by some window-washer, no doubt, but, staggering through the streets of L.A., Donnie barely saw it. In fact, though he was normally quite superstitious, he walked right under it without any thought of bad luck, too out of sorts to know he had done it.

His crotch was on fire now, and so was his mind. His thoughts were jumbled, chaotic. He hadn’t felt right since he’d slept with that Playmate, and now… now... He couldn’t even make sense of how he felt; his brain was too muddled, his senses foggy.

He willed himself to think straight. He was supposed to be doing research for Dr. Rough, research to aid in the development of his master’s latest project. He couldn’t let his master down.

Never before had Donnie been given such an important mission. He liked to think it was because Dr. Rough trusted him, deemed him worthy of such a task, but he knew deep down that he’d only been given the assignment because of who he was. Who his brother was. He had connections in the field from which his master sought information; thus, he’d been sent to Los Angeles.

That he’d been chosen for the mission by default made it that much more imperative that he succeed. If he pleased Dr. Rough and earned his master’s favor, he knew there would be more missions. He could rise up through the ranks of FANS and become one of Dr. Rough’s most prized agents, second only to Drums.

If only he could collect the information Dr. Rough wanted. He could not fail…

He tried to concentrate on the task at hand, tried to push the Playmate from his mind. Every time he allowed his thoughts to stray from Dr. Rough and his mission, the blonde Bunny invaded his brain. He didn’t remember her name, but he could not forget her kisses… her touch… the way her silicone breasts pushed up against his chest as he pressed himself down against her, straddling her beautiful body.

His breath came in shallow gasps, and he felt himself grow hard and hot at the mere memory of her. He longed to go back to the Mansion or anywhere where he could find another girl, a girl like her, to relieve his desire. But in the back of his mind, he remembered his mission and knew he had to get over to his brother’s place instead.

Now… where was it he lived? Donnie had been there many times, yet he found he could hardly remember. He felt strange, like he was high off some drug, yet he’d had nothing to eat or drink and was perfectly sober. He shook his head rapidly, like a wet dog, hoping it might bring him out of this stupor. Yet when he stopped, he felt even dizzier.

He stumbled to a nearby bus stop and dragged his thumb down the bus schedule, trying to decipher which bus would get him closest to his brother’s neighborhood, but the numbers, times, and destinations blurred and wavered before his eyes. He couldn’t focus enough to comprehend them; instead, his mind’s eye went over every detail of his Playboy bunny’s body, following her tanned, flawless skin from the part in her platinum blonde hair, so natural it didn’t even show dark roots, to the tips of her perfectly pedicured toes.

Unaware of what he was doing, he began to remove his clothing, one article at a time. When the next bus pulled up to the curb and lurched to a stop in front of him, he boarded with the others waiting at the stop, deaf to their shouts of protest.

The residents of Los Angeles, accustomed to witnessing strange things in the city, stared up the aisle in bewilderment at the slight, pasty man quivering in his white briefs at the front of the bus. As he gazed back at them with eyes that were not quite in focus, they heard him whimper, “Do you know why you’re afraid when you’re alone?”

Donnie had started to tremble, filled with a sudden sense of dread he could not explain.

“… I do. I do.”

The bus driver turned toward him, hand poised over the lever that shut the door. “Sir, you need to get off this bus. You can’t be comin’ on here with no clothes on.”

Donnie looked at her without seeing and shook his head. “You don’t know so many things.”

“I know you ain’t welcome on my bus half nekkid! ‘Specially if you ain’t got no bus fare. And I don’t see no pockets for you to keep your change in, now do I?”

“I’M NOT GIVIN’ YOU NOTHIN!”

The driver met his crazed eyes with a level glare. “Then you’d best get your white ass off my bus.”

Donnie did not move; he stood there and quivered, rubbing at his skin, which suddenly itched like mad. “Some people… they call me Freak. I am… I am a freak.”

“Uh-huh.” The driver nodded; her expression had softened into one of pity. “Can you tell me your name?”

Instead, he heard the Playmate’s sultry purr. “What’s your name, big boy?” Donnie; his name was Donnie. A fact which he constantly had to remind Dr. Rough of when his master mistakenly called him Danny. He hated to be called Danny.

“Don’t you know me, hero?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, but why you don’t you tell me your name and where you’re trying to go? Maybe I can help you,” the driver said, more kindly now.

Donnie shook from head to toe. “I don’t wanna be afraid no more…”

“Afraid of what?” When the man didn’t answer her, she tried asking, “What do you want?”

“WHAT HE PROMISED ME!” Donnie exploded. “I want what he promised me.”

“And what’s that? Who’s ‘he’?”

Donnie didn’t answer; he began to rock back and forth, hugging his bare chest.

The bus driver sighed. “Sir, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to get off my bus now, or I’m gonna have to call the cops. I’ve got a schedule to follow, and you’re holdin’ me and all these people up. Now, come on, off you go.” She pointed firmly to the open door.

Donnie shook his head, his eyes darting wildly to the strangers who sat before him. “You were wrong… you were wrong. NOW LOOK AT ME!” he screamed, without understanding why he was saying the things he was.

“We’ve seen plenty of you, trust me,” the driver replied tartly. “You’re almost nude.”

He turned to her with miserable eyes. “You forgot cursed.”


± ± ±


Dr. Rough continued to pace across the hotel room’s thin carpet, back and forth, back and forth. What was taking so long? He should have known better than to send him, but damn it, he’d thought Donnie would be able to handle it. Apparently he’d been wrong. His minion hadn’t checked in yet; he had no status report on how things had gone down.

Dr. Rough sat down and then stood, and then sat back down. What was going on?

“Fuck, I might as well go find him myself; I can’t keep waiting around like this,” he muttered, turning and making his way out of his suite.


± ± ±


He stepped out of the limo, brushing the non-existent dirt off his immaculate black trousers, and looked around. There was nothing there, nothing, and it was quiet… too quiet.

Making his way carefully towards the entrance, he tried to keep his eyes peeled for anything unusual, but there was nothing. Dr. Rough stroked the ferret in his arms slowly. Something had happened here; he could feel it. And where the hell was Donnie?

His minion had contacted him earlier with possible news, so he had planned to meet up. Whispers from his own sources of "odd happenings" within the Playboy Mansion had brought him to Los Angeles, his eyes and ears wide open for any information he might be able to use to his own benefit. So here Howard was, and yet, he saw nothing, heard nothing but his own footsteps.

Walking up to the door, he rang the doorbell and rolled his eyes at the elaborate chime. He waited and waited; no one came to the door. He pressed the button again. Still, no one came. Slowly, he made his way around the large mansion. There were none of the scantily clad women the home was known for around anywhere.

Sighing heavily, he made his way back around to the front. He shouldn’t have had to be there; he had people to do this shit for him. Someone would pay for dragging him out here, and for no damn reason: he had no answers. It all came back to Donnie. Dr. Rough wondered if this was what parents felt like when their kid came home late from a date.

“Looks like my kid has missed curfew, it seems, Dr. Twitches, and Daddy doesn’t like that; no he doesn’t.”

Turning, Dr. Rough made his way back into the limo, taking one last look at the mansion before slipping his sunglasses back on and putting the tinted window back up.


± ± ±


Dr. Rough took the mug off of the tray and waved the uniformed man away, leaning back in his chair, propping his feet up on the elaborate table. He sipped at his coffee, trying to not let his anger get the best of him. He was expecting Donnie to knock on the door any minute, sputtering and quivering like he always did with some lousy excuse as to why he was so late.

Taking a calming breath, he reached out and flicked the TV on, flipping idly through the stations. Over nine hundred channels and nothing good on. What he wouldn’t give for a good evil doctor taking over the world movie. Who really wanted a hero? Seriously.

He continued to flip through the stations, when something caught his eye, a news report. His eyes widened, and his feet dropped like lead weights to the floor as he turned the volume up.

“We’ve just received word that the beloved Hugh Hefner, founder and creator of the popular Playboy franchise, was pronounced dead today from a fatal heart attack.”

Dr. Rough listened intently; this was not good.

“Reports are still coming in as to exactly what happened. We had a field reporter at the Playboy mansion, but was unable to find anything out, and we haven’t been able to get in touch with Mr. Hefner’s rep. Condolences have already started to flood in; the world is clearly shocked by the loss of such a revered man, who was so well- loved.”

Dr. Rough raised an eyebrow. Was that so?

“We will keep you updated as more information becomes available.”

He started to turn the TV off to mull over this turn of events, when suddenly, Donnie’s face appeared on the screen. Dr. Rough stood abruptly, the chair rolling back and hitting the wall with a dull thud.

“And in other entertainment news, the brother of Oscar-nominated actor Mark Wahlberg was found trying to board a bus naked in downtown LA earlier today. Though the identity of the man was unknown at first, authorities later identified him as thirty-six-year-old Donnie Wahlberg.”

The news story transitioned to an interview with the bus driver.

“He tried to get on the bus, ya know? He was naked, and I said to him, you can’t be on this bus without fare and no clothes. He seemed like he was freaked out, kind of disoriented, rambling about getting what he was promised and screaming at all of us to look at him.”

“The police have Wahlberg in custody. Mark Wahlberg’s rep could not be reached for comment.”


Leave it to Donnie to screw things up. “Shit!” Dr. Rough stood and stormed out. He had to get him away from the police, and fast.


± ± ±


Nick smiled as four familiar faces came across the mission screens. “Hello, Angels!”

“Hi, Nick!” Three of the four responded. Emerald simply rolled her eyes.

“Nice to see you too, Avril.” Nick winked.

“I’m no angel of yours.” She shook her head.

“Technically, we were bunnies,” Diamond piped up.

“The Bunnies in Black,” Red agreed.

Pearl started singing under her breath, “Here come the Bunnies in Black… galaxy defenders…”

AJ pushed his head into view of the camera. “Hey Nick, can you tell me how JC’s mission is going?”

“Here come the Bunnies in Black… they won’t let you remember…”

“I dunno.” Nick shrugged. “He’s getting shot at by someone… So how did the Bunny mission go, then?”

Pearl stopped singing. “Great! I got a cone of silence!”

“A cone of… what?” Nick stared at the screen with a baffled look.

Emerald shook her head. “Don’t mind her; she’s just at her own private convention.”

“So, what happened with the other bunnies and Hugh?”

Emerald crossed her arms. “Well, Brian was there...”

Nick rolled his eyes.

“I can see you, Nick.”

Nick crossed his arms too. “Canada,” he mumbled under his breath.

Emerald shook her head. “These two agents from the FBI came and decided they would issue a cover-up.”

“FBI?” Nick scowled. “First we have the CIA working with us, and now the FBI? I thought we were about saving the world, not ourselves!”

“Sometimes it’s necessary,” AJ interrupted.

“Please.” Emerald shook her head. “We did all the work, and they came in, took the evidence, and swept everything under the rug. Including alien Playboy Bunnies and the baby! They’re practically stealing human identities!”

Nick slammed his hand on the counter. “They took the evidence? What is this, the United Conspiracy of America?!”

A pained look crossed Red’s face as she lowered her head.

“Are you okay?” Diamond whispered.

Red nodded slightly.

“And they took the ship!” Emerald continued to rant.

“There was a ship?!”

“It was incredibly advanced!” Pearl stuck her head into the screen’s view.

“Think of everything you could have done with it! They’ll probably just make weapons!” Nick slammed his hand on the counter again.

“What I want to know,” Red interjected, “is how they’re going to deal with that baby…” Her voice lowered a little.

Jay crossed his arms. “Well, no one knows about that but us… or at least, that we know of…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how did Jim and Bree have an alien baby when neither one is an alien?”

“We don’t know that,” Pearl disagreed. “No one knew the Bunnies were aliens either.”

“He did mention that he had sex with a Playmate,” Jay reminded them.

Red lowered her head and crossed her arms. “So it obviously goes back to the Playmates… but how? Maybe something like an STD…”

Emerald shook her head again. “This is what’s wrong with this country.”

“What isn’t wrong with this country?” Nick smirked.

“Wow… did they just agree on something, Jay?” Diamond put her hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe this is a good sign?” Jay shrugged.

“He’s just being good because he knows I’ll kill him when I get back.” Pearl winked.

“I already said I was sorry,” Nick pouted.

Pearl put her hand to her head. “I don’t know how I’ll repair my lab, fix the bra, and upgrade whatever new phone Diamond gets…”

“I was wondering why I hadn’t gotten a text in a while…” Nick put his hand behind his head.

Diamond sniffled a little. “My poor phone…”

“What about the bra? Doesn’t that make you sad?”

“I can’t text Lancy with a bra.”

Nick smirked a little. “How about your bunny costume?”

“No, it—“

“008!” K’s voice rang through the hall.

“It’s 00Carter!” Nick shouted back.

K chuckled a little. “I believe your superiors are allowed to call you whatever they like.”

Nick crossed his arms. “So am I on mission screen duty anymore?”

K shook his head and chuckled again. “You can go wait for your Bunnies to come back.”

Nick stood from the chair excitedly.

“But remember, I won’t hold Pearl accountable for what she does to you when that helicopter lands.”

Nick let out a groan.

“Oh,” K smirked, “and it’s good you finally agree with Emerald on something.”

Nick whipped around. “Who told you?!”

K continued to smirk. “Just remember that the next time you’re paired with Emerald or JC… in the near future.”

Nick groaned again and stormed out of the lab. “Fucking hell!”


± ± ±