HikerAngel
patreon
Shakin' in Cirrane
🕑 Added 2023-09-07 04:19:03 +0000 UTCAfter this short comm, I'll be dedicating the rest of this month to finishing up the last few chapters of Consensus. Also expect the final part of Control comic sometime as well. Also, this comm's patently absurd and I love it.
Written by HikerAngel
Commissioned by Danio13
It was a beautiful day in Cirrane. Birds were chirping, the clouds were scarce in the big blue sky, bodies littered the streets en masse. The once pristine, clean sidewalks were gunked up with aggressive splatters of purple like some sort of deified Jackson Pollock only had one color to work with.
But amongst the mass grave of the populace was a sight somehow more surreal—Giggline. She pranced about the barren streets, skipping to the beat of a carnival song that seemed to follow her wherever she went.
Did she care about the strange situation unfolding? This was her town to protect! It was hard to tell, Giggiline was difficult to read—nothing much got through those sky-blue eyes and big, ear-to-ear cheery smile.
The clown girl had a mission in mind, judging by the way her pupils were locked in the direction of the Golden Arches that stood tall above the nearby buildings.
Today was someone’s special day, and it was time to discover what all the hubbub was about.
An employee was forced awake as he heard a buzzer, indicating that a person was entering the drive thru. He rubbed the developing crust from his eyes and took a sharp breath in, readying himself for a customer experience that wouldn’t upset his boss.
“Ah! Um, welcome to McDonald’s, c-can I take your order?” Great, he stuttered. That was a one-way ticket to a markup if some Karen was on the other end.
But instead, a cheerful, bubbly voice broke through the staticky receiver. “Hiiiiii!~ I’ll haaaaaave…”
With just three words, even with one dragged out due to indecisiveness, the employee immediately felt his mood improve. Her cadence was so goofy, so unexpected, he couldn’t help but smile as it fought back against the mundanity of his life.
“…hhhrnnrhjmmm… a six-piece McNuggets, medium fries aaaand… ooh, an M&M McFlurry!” As soon as she finished her order, she realized she forgot the entire reason she was here! Gripping time like an endless string of silks from her sleeve, she yanked it back a few seconds to change her order without confusing the already stressed-beyond-belief fast food worker.
“...and a large Grimace Shake!”
“Six-piece McNuggets and medium fries with a large Grimace Shake?” the employee asked, confirming that he heard the order correctly.
“Yeppers! That’s the order!”
With the chosen fast food meal written down, the lovestruck employee woozily directed Giggline to the takeout window. Another worker, a blonde-ponytailed woman who could have competed against the prior employee for an award in soul-crushing directionlessness and won, did a double take as she caught a glimpse of the ride Giggline pulled up in—or more accurately, the lack of one.
Where a car should have been, there simply wasn’t, though that didn’t stop Giggline’s body from miming as if there was. Her body floated above the pavement in a sitting pose not unlike a front-seat driver. Her gloved finger mimed pressing a button, generating a sound effect that invoked the idea of someone rolling down a window.
“Yippie! My order, right on time! Now that’s fast food!”
The poor blonde was still frozen with confusion, but Giggline was willing to pick up where other’s abilities to complete transactions had failed. Her long arm stretched forward, retrieving the doggie bag of food from within the window and plopping it on the passenger “seat” beside her. A hypothetical cup holder was supposed to be the resting place for the shake, however the cup was apparently too large to fit within the confines of the invisible holster. Instead, Giggline settled with lodging the shake between her sizable breasts, the flower decoration on her chest moving downward to steady it in place.
If the sheer absurdity of Giggline’s existence wasn’t enough to leave her brain paused, the lewd sight of a cold shake in between a clown girl’s breasts certainly fried it.
Parking her mimed car in the nearest lot, Giggline tossed the rest of her meal aside to focus on the main attraction. She had to admit, she was growing excited. Purple was such a cool, comforting color—one that was just unusual and quirky enough to make her intrigued enough to try it.
Putting her redder-than-red lips to the plastic straw, a smile from deep within the bushes behind her grew wider. A smile full of square teeth, one full of malice and deviousness, one eager to claim another victim. She took a deep sip of the drink, which gulped it all down in one pull.
It tasted… mediocre. A plain-jane vanilla shake with only the faintest hint of berry and dyed purple with some lab-perfected substance barely regulated by a crippled FDA that would surely lead to organ failure in fifty years if a person drank too much of it. It was nothing new, really. Another desperate attempt from a massive corporation to catch media buzz by reviving a forgotten character from several parent’s childhoods in order to drag them and their kids to Mickey D’s to feed more of their dwindling cash from their already struggling wallets.
Also Grimace was KO’ing people. And that wasn’t cool.
Overall, a less than satisfactory experience, but only offensive morally. Giggline felt no different after finishing the drink than she had before it. Where was the violent violet she was promised? All she tasted was pedestrian purple.
“Guh-whuh!?” came a deep voice that somehow rivaled the goofy cadence of Giggline’s own. The clown girl spun around to witness a befuddled Grimace—the mascot himself—leaping from the bushes. “How? How were you not affected by the shake? It’s supposed to take out anyone who drinks it!”
“Aww, poor little Grimmi, you can’t pull a fast one on a clown!” Giggline replied, giggling. “We obey the laws of comedy, and they dictate that the butt of the joke should only be someone who deserves it!”
“Hey… uh, don’t call me Grimmi!” was all he had to reply with. Clearly, this purple menace wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he barely even seemed to process Giggline’s overly simplified spiel about how she worked. The clown girl almost felt bad for him. Almost. He didn’t seem like a mastermind behind the mass exodus of consciousness from the world. No, just a confused mascot trying to reclaim some control in the world after being left in the dark for so long. After all, more people were talking about Grimace now than they ever had before, and mascots fed on attention.
Giggline mulled over what she was to do about this, her finger twirling around the straw that sat within her empty drink. An idea struck her as she thought back to the overall bleh flavor of the shake she had just consumed.
“Hmmmm, I think I know a way to leave both of us satisfied, Grimmi!” as she spoke, she clasped her hand around the cup, using a simple camera angle trick to make the styrofoam vanish within her grasp, replacing it with a doubly-large straw as she slid her hand down the plastic of it.
“Stop calling me Grimmi!” he repeated, still only able to focus on the simple issues.
“Well, soon I think you’ll see it’s quite the fitting name. Now, let’s see if you taste any better than your shake!”
Grimace gasped as Giggline stabbed him directly in the chest with the recently renovated straw, though the gasp was not of pain. Still, the initial shock caused him to fall backwards and—due to the oblong nature of his body and ineffectual arms—that meant he was permanently grounded without outside help.
“Hey! What are you doing!? You’re not a nice clown at all! Nothing like Ronald!”
“Aww, I wouldn’t be so sure. I think I can offer something you don’t even know you want!” Giggline responded as cheerful as ever. Despite Grimace’s further protests, the clown girl put her lips to the straw and began to suck. The see-through straw became opaque with rich purples as she ingested all that she could, soft, muffled moans escaping her throat as she showed no sign of stopping.
The protests from Grimace softened and became mindless groaning as he
His bald head was blessed with dark, thick locks of hair as they sprouted from his head, wrapping into flawlessly perfect curls for a gorgeous hairstyle. His eyes, or rather, her eyes drew outward into an almond shape around her dark irises, her cheekbones rising to increased prominence. Her chin thinned as a neck sculpted itself into existence and her lips plumped into fleshy succulence.
Like her neck but on a greater scale, the oblong shape of her body was becoming more hourglassed as her waist cinched in at the sides even as her hips widened to give her body a sexy, feminine shape. The fat was redirected into her now-lean chest as it erupted outward, her bare skin rounding into two sizable swells of firm, smooth, succulent flesh, topped by two erect, violet-colored nipples that were quickly wrapped up in similar-toned purple bra cups. Her arms lost mass, growing more slender but remaining toned, even sculpted. However, these muscles were not masculine in any way, as her arms seemed to flow more fluidly under her skin, giving them a softer, more elegant shape. For first-time muscles, she couldn’t get enough of them. Hell, she could actually stand up now with these useful arms, but she was enjoying herself too much.
She wanted this. No, she needed this. Her body slimmed into a more womanly shape, and it felt amazing. Giggline was right, she didn’t even know she wanted this. How could she have? McDonald’s would have never let her be herself.
Any genitals she might’ve had prior were transformed into the sensitive inner organs of an eternally youthful female. A prominent, puffy pussy peaked through purple panties as Grimace’s moans became aimless and weak.
Grimace… ugh, what an ugly name for someone as pretty as her. It meant an ugly, twisted expression on a person's face, not a definition for someone like her. One who wanted to bring happiness to the world.
“How are you feeling, Grimmi?” Giggline asked as if reading Grimace’s mind, taking a brief respite from drinking all the bad juice out of her victim.
Grimmi… now that was a name. It sounded so much cuter. It had an edge to it, but had no negative connotations at all.
“I… I love it…” she replied in a far higher-pitched voice, not really answering Giggline’s question. But the clown girl did not mind one bit, she was over the moon with enjoyment that her new best friend Grimmi was happy.
And Grimmi was happy. Standing up, the girl’s dark hair falling forward as she nearly collapsed in the opposite direction as she rediscovered her balance, accommodating her new form. It felt so freeing, like finally taking off a mascot costume after wearing it for over 60 years. Her joints reached articulation previously thought foreign to her. Grimmi ran a finger down her sculpted, light purple chest, feeling every ebb and flow of her toned tummy and how it contrasted with her full breasts.
“There you go, that’ll get people talking about you! And certainly not in a negative light!” Giggline assured, throwing Grimmi a cheeky wink.
The purple woman recalled her many redesigns after the execs had decided she was no longer an antagonistic presence to be feared. They tried to make her cuter without compromising her original design, but this was the first reimagining where she actually felt cute. Not just cute, downright sexy. Sure, that was probably never the intention of the underpaid artists who created her, but this wasn’t about them or the company or anyone else. This was about her. And she was happy.
“Th-thank you, Giggline,” Grimmi spoke, a tear nearly coming to her eye.
“Heehee, you’re very welcome Grimmi… Happy birthday, by the way!” And with that, the Clowngirl drove off into the sunset in her invisible car, comforted that another day was saved in the city of Cirrane.
