By: AReturned
“Is that everyone?”
“Not just yet! Please, a moment!”
As Starfire turned and plunged back inside the burning building, Raven grimaced and flexed her arms. The raging fires had destroyed most of the nightclub’s structural integrity; at this point her magic was the only thing holding it up, and it was taking every last ounce of her strength to maintain it.
Beads of perspiration ran down her forehead. The nightclub groaned and shuddered, and she almost buckled under the force of the power required to keep it steady. “Come on, Star,” she muttered. “I can’t…”
There was a boom, and a wave of heat washed over her. Then an orange blur – as Starfire came soaring through a broken window, a coughing civilian in her arms.
“That is everyone!” She shouted.
With a cry of relief, Raven released the last of her power. All the tension went out of her body and she sank slowly to the ground, watching as the building folded in on itself. She touched down beside her teammate and the crowd of rescued civilians, and might have collapsed herself had Starfire not immediately pulled her into a hug.
“We did it, Raven friend!” She laughed, whirling her around. “You were incredible!”
“We both were,” she smiled wearily, allowing the embrace. The celebrations were short lived, however. Within the crowd of civilians, someone had begun shouting, shoving, and stirring up trouble.
“This is so fucked,” came the raised voice. “No. No. Like, actually? This has actually fucked my whole night.”
A man stumbled through the crowd, emerging beside the girls. He was in his mid-twenties, tall, well-built, wearing a tight t-shirt to show off his arms. He had short brown hair and a light stubble of a beard, and was holding a half-finished beer.
“I can’t even believe this,” he was saying, voice thick with drink. “It’s riditulous. Ridilculo – it’s crazy.”
The heroes glanced at each other. “Ah. Excuse me, sir?” Starfire asked. “Is everything okay? You are not hurt?”
He wheeled in their direction. “My fucking jacket was in there, man. It was like, one of my favourite jackets, of all time. Why’d you let it burn?”
“We didn’t ‘let’ anything burn.” Raven replied, irritated. “We did what we could, but the building was already crumbling by the time we arrived. The important thing is everyone got out safely.”
“Wait, wait. Aren’t you two on that, um, that group of sidekicks? Team – team titans?”
“Ah! In fact, following my twentieth birthday celebrations last year, neither myself nor Raven are teenagers.” Starfire explained brightly. “We are both now fully fledged members of the Justice League, and practise heroism as – ”
“Shit, man. They should have sent Superman, or like, that green ring guy.” The man waved his beer. “Just my luck I got a couple of useless chicks instead.”
Raven’s temper flared. She took a step toward the drunk, but Starfire moved first. “Apologies, sir, but I think it would be better if you moved away.”
“Fuck off, alien bitch. I can drink where I want.”
That was the final straw. Raven pushed forward and grabbed the man by his shirt collar, lifting him clear off the ground.
“Hey! The fuck are you – ”
“Silence, worm.” She snarled. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to my friend be insulted by scum like you. You should be on your knees, thanking her.”
“Get off me!” He slurred, legs kicking uselessly beneath him.
“Raven friend!” Starfire flew up to put a hand on her shoulder. “Please. He is not worth it.”
“No”, she thought. People like him wouldn’t change because of mere words. He needed to be taught a lesson to understand. Power surged through her body and crackled at her fingertips, dangerously close to release. “I need to show him there are consequences to talking shit.”
An idea occurred to her.
“You know what? You’re right. He’s not worth it.” The tension in the air seemed to vanish. Raven lowered the drunk back down to earth, helping him keep his balance and smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. Then she leaned in close, enough that only he could hear her whisper.
“Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”
The man blinked stupidly. “Huh?”
Raven ignored him. “Come on, Star. Let’s get out of here.”
With that the two heroes flew off into the night sky, leaving the confused drunk behind them. As they rose, a small smile spread across Raven’s face, plotting the revenge she had in mind for him. Right now he was probably wandering off into the city to find someone else to annoy. Having learned nothing, not remotely sorry for his behaviour.
But he would be sorry. She’d make sure of it.
*
The next morning, Craig awoke to a particularly unpleasant hangover.
He lay sprawled diagonally across his bed, on top of the covers and still fully clothed. He felt nauseous. His mouth was dry, and there was a savage headache pounding directly behind his eyes. All he wanted was to keep lying here until he felt halfway alive again, but he had to get up. His bladder was full to bursting.
Groaning, he pushed himself upright. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in his blinds, illuminating the messy state of his apartment. Craig waited for the room to stop spinning, then reached for a half-empty water bottle he’d left beside his bed some days before.
“Ugh.” He swallowed. His mouth wasn’t just dry. There was some nasty taste to it, something sour and gross. “Did I eat something weird last night?” He couldn’t remember. In fact, he remembered basically nothing after the first few drinks.
Lastly he noticed his phone lying face down on the carpeted floor. He picked it up to find he had an unread text message. It read, simply:
> Bon appétit.
The number was unknown.
He stared blankly at the words for a few seconds, before remembering his need to piss. “Whatever,” he grunted, tossing his phone onto his bed. He could figure out what that was supposed to mean later.
Craig was washing his hands at the bathroom sink when it happened the first time. There was a very soft hissing sound, and a pressure on his tongue. Then his cheeks ballooned outward as his mouth filled with some kind of gas – something hot, and thick, and putrid.
“What the fuck?” He shouted, gagging and coughing to get rid of the rancid air. The taste was still there though, sticky and sulfuric, like rotten eggs. He looked up into the mirror and opened wide, half expecting to see something wrong with his tongue. But there was nothing there.
“What was that?” He muttered to himself. A burp, maybe? But he hadn’t felt it rise up his throat. It had just appeared, right in the middle of his mouth. And he’d never known a burp to taste so bad before. It was like a ghost had just wiped their ass with his tongue.
Hhffffffftt
There it was again! A massive, smelly, something had just formed out of nowhere, directly inside his mouth. That definitely wasn’t a burp – it tasted like a mix of spoiled dairy and literal shit, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten that anytime recently.
“Fuck!” Craig spat a few times into the sink, trying and failing to get rid of the lingering odour. Then he stormed out of the toilet, back towards his bedroom. “Fuck this, man. I’m calling a doctor.” Whatever was going on here, he needed it to stop immediately.
When he reached his phone, he saw he’d received a few new messages.
> Enjoying breakfast?
> Hope you’re hungry. I’m making plenty more.
There was a picture attached to the second text. He opened it, and was greeted by an up-close photo of a very large and attractive ass. It was round and bouncy, the skin so pale it looked almost grey, and covered only by a tight black leotard.
Craig knew at once who it belonged to. And with that, all the memories of last night came flooding back; the nightclub, the fire, the two superheroes who’d shown up to help… and his drunken confrontation with them.
He immediately called the unknown number. It rang twice before connecting.
“Well, well. Look who it is.” The voice was low, sultry. Full of dark amusement. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you soon.”
“You. You’re that girl from last night. The witch one. Um…” He knew the name, he’d seen it on TV before. “Raven!”
“That’s me.” She chuckled. “One of the girls who risked her life to save your sorry ass. Only for you to stumble over, slurring your words and stinking of booze, so you could insult and disrespect us to our faces. My friend wanted me to forget the whole situation and move on, but…” she sighed. “I’m just not as forgiving as she is.”
“So this thing with my mouth is you? You put some voodoo curse on me, or some shit?” He demanded. “What did you do?”
“You still haven’t figured it out? Wow. I knew you were slow, but still.” The audio rustled quietly. “Here. Maybe this will help.”
BBBRRRAAAPPPP
Hhhhhhffffffffftttt
There was a loud, bassy rumble over the phone. At the same time another hot air pocket filled up Craig’s mouth, stinking of cheese, tasting worse, and sending him into a frantic coughing fit. As he retched, he could hear the sound of Raven’s cruel laughter.
“No way,” he wheezed, once he’d recovered. “No fucking way. These are your fucking farts?!”
“Gold star for you,” she mocked. “I set up a psychic dimensional link between your mouth and my asshole. Think of it like an invisible portal. From now on, all the gas that comes out of my butthole is teleported instantly… directly on top of your tongue.”
“Are you fucking crazy?!”
“You were the one who gave me the idea. You were pretty happy talking all that shit to us last night, I decided you should do it literally.” She paused. “So? What do you have to say now?”
“Go fuck yourself,” he replied, without hesitation. “Take this shit off me. Now!”
Raven laughed. “Wow. You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Then her voice turned cold. “Let me help you understand your position here. I am the only person in the world who can remove this spatial link. No other witch doctor, warlock, spiritualist or magic priest will even be able to touch it. Right now the portal is set to only transmit gaseous matter, but I can change that with a snap of my fingers if you keep pissing me off.”
He hesitated. “W-well – ”
“No, you’re done talking. You know if you’d called me up to apologise, and sounded genuinely remorseful, I was going to undo the spell after one or two farts. But guess what? Now the link is staying open, permanently. You’re going to spend your life eating each fart I rip, choking on the digested leftovers of my every meal. And you can think about what a huge asshole you are every time you’re tasting mine.”
“Listen. I was just – ”
“See you around, worm. I’m going back to my triple-cheese omelette. You’ll be tasting it shortly.”
The line went dead. Craig continued shouting into the phone for a few seconds before he realised, then immediately tried calling her back. It failed to connect each time. “Fuck!” He shouted, angrily throwing his phone across the room.
Hhhhffffffffttttttt
The biggest fart yet exploded inside his mouth. Hot rich stink filled every corner of his head, reaching up into his nostrils and down the back of his throat; the foul, bitter fumes were so dense he was forced to swallow most of them, and the feeling of all that gas churning its way through his body was almost as nauseating as the flavour itself.
“Damn it,” he gasped. Only now was reality starting to set in. This was his life from now on – at any given moment, fresh, steamy flatulence could be served direct to his tastebuds to let him know what Raven had been eating recently, and he was utterly powerless to stop it.
It was disgusting. It was humiliating. And how the hell was he going to explain it to anyone when it inevitably happened in public?
“Fuck. I’m gonna have to learn to keep my mouth shut,” he thought, as the hissing began again.