The title and participants of this week’s Fan Fiction Friday installment isn’t supposed to be a mystery. It’s just that the horror doesn’t come from the acts being performed — no water sports or toilet sluttery this week; indeed, the sexual acts described are pretty vanilla. No, the horror of this FFF is entirely in who’s doing it to who. Honestly, I imagine that for some of you, this will hurt far more than The Pok?mon Story, Squick, or several other of the more vicious and/or depraved FFF entries. Which is why I wanted the participants to remain a mystery as long as possible, to hurt you all the most. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you “Henpecked,” by Negaduck9:
It was a warm, quiet night. The Great Gonzo and Camilla the chicken sat on
the roof of the Muppets’ boarding house. Theoretically they were stargazing,
but neither was thinking about the sky.
Yes. Gonzo and his chicken: The erotic fan fiction. May God have mercy on our souls.
Today had been a good day for them both. Recently they had become estranged
because of Gonzo’s identity crisis. At his nadir he had lost interest in
everything that had been most important to him, including Camilla. Hurt and
angry, she had snubbed him until today, when he had come to her with an apology.
Some might say that a few words didn’t make up for months of neglect-but
she wanted him back more than she wanted to punish him for ignoring her.
He said he wouldn’t do it again, and she believed him.
And one of the main reasons this story hurts so bad? We’re not just going to read about them fucking, oh no. We’re going to hear about their relationship.
He sat next to the weathervane mounting, and she leaned against his side.
His hand slid under her feathers to the downy undercoat, a familiarity that
birds did not permit lightly. She made a quiet, purring sound and fluffed
her feathers, making herself look like a feathered dandelion.
When chickens purr in an erotic fan fic, you know bad shit is about to go down.
Gonzo smiled at her. It was almost as if they had never drifted apart. They
had been together so long, he couldn’t imagine being single again. No matter
how much he had wanted to rejoin his family in space, he couldn’t have left
Camilla and everyone else he loved on Earth. They were his real
family–real because they had chosen each other.
Oh, did I not mention this erotic fan fic was IN ACTUAL MUPPETS CONTINUITY? AS PER MUPPETS FROM SPACE?!
She clucked softly to him. He replied, “Yeah, you too.” She looked up and
clucked again in a tone of entreaty. “I love you too,” he told her. She rubbed
the side of her bill against his furred cheek, as close a gesture they could
get to a kiss, as her beak and his nose made that problematic.
As did a million other things, including the fact one’s a chicken, and both have human’s hands up their asses.
He hugged her close. She pressed against him, warm and soft and fluffy. Gonzo
thought, maybe there was a better place for them to be right now than a rooftop.
He paused, considering, then clucked to her. Chicken-speak was an earthy
language, and he could say things to her that way which would have been
impossible, or at least mortally embarrassing, otherwise.
She stifled a laugh. Gonzo could speak chicken fluently, but his accent was
atrocious. She replied, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. Then she pecked
Take a second to think about why (well, one of the reasons why) this story is so disturbing: It’s that Camilla is less a Muppet and more a chicken. In the world of the Muppets, it’s okay that a frog can fall in love with a pig when they are both sentient beings who talk and walk upright and wear clothes (some times). But Camilla? She’s a fucking chicken. She only clucks. Her wings are only wings, not hands. She’s clearly an animal, even in the Muppet world, and Gonzo’s not just going to have sex with her, but is in a committed romantic relationship with her. A chicken. It’s the same principle that makes Mickey Mouse’s having a dog friend named Goofy but also a dog pet named Pluto. But with fucking.
They climbed down the ladder that stood against the side of the boarding
house. The ladder was practically a permanent fixture. So many Muppets lived
here that people often made use of the roof to get a little breathing room.
Some roofs gathered frisbees in summer; theirs sprouted deck chairs.
The Electric Mayhem’s psychedelically painted bus was parked on the grass
by the side of the building. Its door was closed, but one could open it by
pulling the rubber flap to the side. Janice had shown Gonzo that trick once,
and explained that they used to tour in the bus. The seats folded flat so
they could sleep in there rather than a hotel, which was not always an option
for touring musicians on a tight budget. Because of the context-Gonzo had
remarked on the difficulty of spending time with Camilla without a dozen
people watching-the message had been clear: if they needed a bit of privacy,
here it was. Afterward he had noticed that now and again others visited the
bus at night. Usually Floyd and Janice, but occasionally other couples.
Another reason this story hurts so much? Because it’s clearly by a person who really knows the Muppets. It’s the little details she gets right that sting like a thousand daggers.
Gonzo pulled the door open and held it while Camilla entered. Once inside,
she looked around, then back at Gonzo, puzzled. He told her, “I know it’s
not the nicest place we’ve been to, but this is short notice.”
She looked around thoughtfully, considering, then pecked him. He said, “Give
me a minute.”
“I have to put my condom on, so I don’t catch salmonella.”
He went to the back of the bus and spent some time trying to figure out the
seats. Camilla, peering at the undersides, pointed with one wing. He crouched
down to see, then pulled down on a bar. The back of the seat flopped down
abruptly, beaning him. He yelped. She covered her beak with one wing, but
did not try to stifle her cackling laughter. He rubbed his head and grinned
as he came out from underneath. It was funny.
JESUS CHRIST JUST FUCK THE CHICKEN AND GET IT OVER WITH STOP DRAGGING IT OUT
The flattened seat made a platform, but the padding was thin and it was hardly
what one could call a bed. But then, he normally slept in a hammock, she
preferred a nest of straw, and sleeping was not in their plans anyway.
ALSO: IT’S A GODDAMN CHICKEN
fluttered up. He sat down beside her and put his arms around her. “I’ve missed
you, baby,” he said softly. She clucked in reply. “Yeah, I know you
didn’t go anywhere.”
She rubbed her beak against him for a moment, then replied at length. He
had hurt her feelings by losing interest, acting as if she was no longer
important to him. If she had done the same thing to him, he would have been
miserable. She had been angry, of course, but not angry enough to leave the
boarding house. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said in a whisper.
It was a good thing for him that there were no roosters in the boarding house,
she told him. The closest they had was Sam the Eagle. That broke the tension
of the moment, and they both laughed. Then he hugged her again. “Yeah, you’re
right. I am lucky. Especially right now.”
She answered by pecking him. He replied with a grin, “Yeah, I guess we coulda
stayed on the roof if all we were gonna do is talk.”
She continued pecking him. His heartbeat quickened. It felt like sparks when
she did that: sudden, bright flares of sensation. He didn’t mind pain; on
the contrary, it was exhilarating. He was able to do dangerous stunts because
getting hurt didn’t scare him; that principle did not only apply to stuntwork.
Most people hated being henpecked; Gonzo positively delighted in it. This
had ended many an argument between them. In fact, more than once it had ended
mock arguments started specifically for that purpose.
? AUUGGGH NO MORE DETAILS JUST FUCK THE CHICKEN AND ENNNNDDDD
Animal was restless. And when Animal became restless at night, so did everyone
else, because he would usually leap up onto his drum set and express himself
artistically. The rest of the Electric Mayhem were so used to his outbursts
that they could sleep through them, or at least wait them out. However, Janice
and Floyd had decided to look for a mellower scene.
They left the boarding house and went around the side. The bus was always
there in a pinch. They’d spent many a pleasant, private evening on those
uneven seats. Floyd was about to pull the doors open when he stopped. Janice
asked, “What is it?”
“Thought I heard something.” He put a ear to the wall of the bus. After listening
a moment, he blinked and laughed. “Well, whaddaya know!”
“Someone else beat us to it?” Bummer,” she said.
You know what else makes this story incredibly upsetting? The author has gone out of her way to make the characters as authentic as possible. If it were just the fucking, I could move past it, but no, I’m really reading about Gonzo fucking Camilla as if it had been written by the hand of Jim Henson himself, and the horror of that is beyond measure.
“I don’t believe it,” he said, still grinning. He pulled a folding chair
up to the side of the bus and stood on it to peer in the window. The window
shades were down-they always kept the shades lowered so the bus wouldn’t
get too hot during the day-but there was just enough space below to see in.
He glanced in, then said to Janice, “Take a look.”
Janice stood on the chair beside him-he put an arm around her waist to steady
her-and peered in. Then she said, “Oh, wow!”
OH GOD NOW I’M HEARING IT WITH THEIR VOICES
Floyd said, “Who’d have thought the chicken crossed the road to get to the
It had not come as much of a surprise to Camilla that pain excited Gonzo,
considering what a kick he got out of doing bizarre stunts. She had had to
teach him what turned chickens on.
Fortunately he had been a very willing
student, eager to learn and not afraid to take chances or look ridiculous.
That had been years ago. Now they were comfortable enough together not to
have to bother with signals or safe words. They could respond to each other
on a nearly instinctive level. It was fun to get him all worked up, and it
made her feel pretty warm as well.
Now instinct was telling her that if she didn’t give him a moment to undress
their evening together might be spoiled. She watched with amusement as he
shucked off his clothing. He did not really need to wear anything, she thought;
he was as decent in just his fur as Fozzie or Rowlf were. But Gonzo always
clothed himself, and she had long ago decided that was just another of his
When he had freed himself of encumbrances-and she could see that he was
definitely ready for her-he sat back against the wall of the bus and opened
his arms to her. “Camilla,” he said softly, inviting her to sit on his lap.
She answered, “Uh-uh,” and turned her back on him.
He knelt behind her. She felt his arms encircle her. She lifted her wings
so he could slip his arms underneath. His hands stroked through her soft,
warm feathers, and his chest pressed against her back. She sighed happily
and turned her tail feathers to the side, out of the way.
SWEET CHRIST ALMIGHTY STOP GIVING ME THE DETAILS
He leaned forward far enough to rest his head where her shoulder would be
if hens had shoulders. When chickens mated the rooster perched atop the hen.
That kind of balancing act would not work for them, as they had found early
on amid much laughter, but Gonzo had learned that hens found the feeling
of being mounted very sexy.
He caressed her and gently thrust into the feathers
below her tail. That also turned Camilla on, but it required a lot of
self-control for Gonzo. Feathers are tickly!
One hand slipped down between her legs. He parted her feathers, revealing
her cloaca, and carefully entered her. She squawked in excitement and leaned
back against him.
OH MY FUCKING FUCK CAMILLA EVEN HAS CORRECT CHICKEN GENITALIA WILL THE NIGHTMARE NEVER END
A wave of pleasure, warm as a mother hen’s feathers, washed through her as
Gonzo moved within her. He took it smooth and slow. He was built differently
from a rooster, and in Camilla’s opinion the rooster was the short end of
Roosters regarded the whole flock as their harem, and rarely felt
the need to give any hen special attention for long. On the other hand, Camilla
knew that, although Gonzo still flirted with the other hens, he was hers.
They were lovers, not members of a breeding flock, and he treated
her with touching tenderness. And, she thought as she squawked again, he
was good in the nest!
Floyd and Janice had been watching in stunned silence. They knew that Gonzo
and Camilla had been dating for years, but somehow they had not pictured
anything like this. Janice said softly, “Oh, wow… isn’t that romantic?”
Floyd laughed. “Sure is. Hey, now we’ll find out which comes first, the chicken
AAAAAAUUUGGGGHHHH THAT IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF LAME JOKE FLOYD WOULD MAKE IF HE ACTUALLY SAW GONZO FUCKING A CHICKEN AAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGH
“Oh, stop,” she said, and pushed his shoulder, but she was laughing too.
Unaware of anything but each other, Gonzo and Camilla made nonsensical sounds
to each other, occasionally breathing each other’s names as they made love.
His hands caressed her belly, chest, and neck; his arms tightened slightly
on each forward stroke.
This is the sexual position known as the “Shake n’ Bake.”
Her cries of pleasure applauded his efforts and urged
him on. Soon Gonzo began to pick up the pace. The fuse was lit! His excitement,
voiced as indrawn gasps, was contagious. Camilla felt herself coming close
as well. A sudden impish thought struck her. She twisted her neck around
and bit his nose.
Though she had not bitten hard, the unexpected flare of sensation made him
yelp. His arms tightened around her as he climaxed.
She pressed back against
him, her wings flicking as if trying to take off backward, and crowed raucously.
The moment was soon over. Still kneeling over her, Gonzo ruffled her feathers
gently as he caught his breath. That had been a good one. He had been
happy about getting back together with Camilla; now he felt wonderful about
it. He never wanted to let her go.
He leaned back against the side of the bus and stretched his legs, which
had been threatening to cramp, out in front of himself. Camilla sat between
his legs, her head against his chest, making contented, purring clucks in
her throat and gazing up at him. He put one arm around her and scratched
behind her wattles. She closed her eyes and fluffed out the feathers of her
head: yes, more. Happily he obliged.
Gonzo and Camilla: THE AFTERGLOW
After a while Gonzo began stroking her feathers back into shape with his
free hand. She had become rumpled, as she often did during their private
time together, and had to preen herself back into shape. Gonzo helped her
with that. He didn’t have to worry about his own fur; it was short enough
that it didn’t rumple. Well, there were his clothes, but that could wait
until Camilla judged herself presentable. She looked up, her head still resting
on his chest, and clucked very softly to him. He replied, “Yeah. I promise,
next time I start feeling bad, I’ll ask you to cheer me up.” She nodded and
rubbed her beak against his throat.
Janice turned to comment to Floyd. He was no longer standing on the chair
beside her and watching; he leaned against the bus as if bored. She said,
“Why aren’t you watching? This is, like, so sweet.”
“Well, I had chicken alfredo for dinner, and I was pretty sure if I watched I was gonna throw up.”
He answered, “Sure, babe, just keepin’ an eye out for sleepwalkers. Don’t
want someone else getting’ the same idea and walkin’ in on ’em. Or anyone
less hip than us getting curious.”
“Fer sure!” she agreed, and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.
As she was looking back he said, “Hey, what do Gonzo and an egg have in common?”
“Camilla lays ’em both.”
He dodged her swat.
Eventually it was time to move on. Gonzo put his clothes back on while Camilla
finished smoothing her feathers. He also gathered up the few feathers that
had come loose. Best to be discreet, after all. He put the seat backs up
again, then, satisfied that the bus was just as it had been before their
visit, he opened the door and held it open for her.
They went back into the boarding house through the back door. After another
moment Floyd and Janice emerged from the shadow behind the bus, where they
had hidden so Gonzo and Camilla would not realize that they had had an audience.
Janice practically dragged Floyd into the bus.
“Bleagh! It smells like someone masturbated with a Chicken McNugget in here.”
Walking quietly, Gonzo escorted Camilla to the balcony that the chickens
used as a roost, then closed the door quietly behind her. A few of the hens
blinked sleepily, but they made no remarks as Camilla settled into her nest
box. Gonzo then went to the room he shared with Rizzo the Rat. Rizzo was
asleep in the upper hammock. Gonzo changed into his pajamas. He was as quiet
as possible, but Rizzo, who had been wondering where his roommate was, awakened
anyway. He watched through slitted eyes, then grinned to himself. He had
seen the white feathers that drifted out of Gonzo’s pocket. Good for
him, the rat thought, and closed his eyes again.
I apologize for the lack of comments, but this one hurt me. Bad. Maybe because I’m still weak with flu, but something about it starring Gonzo… and being so awfully, horribly accurate and well-written… but I feel like crying. And drinking. So, so much drinking.
Robert Bricken is one of the original co-founders of the site formerly known as Topless Robot, and its first editor-in-chief, serving from 2008-12. He brought the site to prominence with “nerd news, humor and self-loathing” as its motto, raising it from total internet obscurity to a readership in the millions, with help from his savage “FAQ” movie reviews and Fan Fiction Fridays. Under his tenure Topless Robot was covered by Gawker, Wired, Defamer, New York magazine, ABC News, and others, and his articles have been praised by Roger Ebert, Avengers actor Clark Gregg, comedian and The Daily Show correspondent John Hodgman, the stars of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Rifftrax, and others. He is currently the managing editor of io9.com. Despite decades as both an amateur and professional nerd, he continues to be completely unprepared for either the zombie apocalypse or the robot uprising.