Your Favorite Healslut: The Western Grind

Do hope you guys are liking these half as much as I am. More on the sexy side this time as an event map rolls around. I always loved doing these in Overwatch and TF2 more than any other part of the game. Weird little teamups and co-op play in the usually PVP games is real fun to me. I’ve got a few more ideas for the setting in mind, but not enough put together where I’m ready to write some more, so DO look forward to the other top-voted stories showing up soon as well as another bonus or few. 

The Wild West was a strange and dangerous place. The surge of superstition and technology led to tall tales of all sorts. Promises of gold and land mingled with stories of monsters and spirits until the desperate or adventurous were called out West. In a frontier town's only saloon, the fate of four would-be heroes was sealed…

Patcher trotted down the stairs like it was Christmas morning. Technically it was the 4th of July out in the real world, but that didn't matter. "Happy new event, y'all!" The blonde cheered, looking around the remodeled base. The computers and holograms were gone, replaced by a simple old timey tavern. A robotic piano played itself jaunty background music while the crew was lounging around, drinking and chatting amongst themselves. Ghost waved her over to her table where she was playing cards with Anarchy, Pocket Rocket and Gladiator. They were variously dressed for their parts, everyone assigned a default Western Skin for the event's story mode. Ghost herself had a denim vest over a partly unbuttoned shirt, a cowboy hat and a gold star pinned to her chest. Patcher liked how the short shirt showed a hint of her abs while the sleeves were rolled up to show Ghost's spiraling arm tattoo.

"Morning, chica," Ghost said, leaning up and kissing her on the cheek. "How you like the new Skin?"

"Oh it's right purdy, huh? I got me some fancy new duds!" Patcher lifted her skirt a little to show it off. She twirled as the lacey dress with the high skirt followed her, flashing some fishnets and new red high heels. A corset pushed her big boobs up even higher and she was dolled up with some more makeup and thick red lipstick. A wide, feathered hat topped off her pinned up blonde hair, completing her dancing girl look.

"What are you doing?" Anarchy asked as she swapped out some cards.

"Ah'm just showin' off a little. T'aint nothin' wrong with that."

"No, with your voice roight now. Why are you Southern?" Patcher stared at her blankly. Anarchy was dressed in some dusty pants and a broad jacket with nothing underneath, some sticks of dynamite tucked into her various belts and pockets. Her usual dark mohawk now hung long and slick over one eye. "See how I'm talking with my fuckin' normal voice right now? Like a smae person? Why aren’t ya doin’ that?"

Patcher blinked at her quietly. "I think I mighta been the only one who got me a new accent," Patcher muttered meekly. "I do declare..."

"Well I think it's adorable," Ghost insisted. She hooked an arm around Patcher's waist and pulled her into her lap, giving her another kiss as she looked through her cards discreetly. "At least the programmers were smart enough to realize there were some South Americans out in the wild west."

"Yea. 'Smart," Pocket scoffed. She was looked especially... wispy today. She had what looked like half a totem pole resting beside her, and her appearance billowed and rippled like she was barely there and blowing in the wind. Some wisps of flame and smoke poured off her skin and her body was lined with chalky body paint. "Just like how they had alien native spirits and robots? My species isn't even real and I knew that. Let's face it: you were a lucky guess when they were translating people over. And here comes the living proof herself!"

Bitchbot wandered by, giving their game a passing glance before she kept going when she realized they were having fun. The sultry fembot was wrapped up in a poncho and a wide sombrero. Nothing on beneath it.

"All I can say," Gladiator huffed as he squared his massive shoulders. He was dressed what looked like cheap dress clothes, a sledgehammer on the floor beside him. He had a few more scars than Patcher remembered, though she didn't see him outside of his armor that often. A few extra bandages were around his knuckles and one marked his cheek. "Is that I'm not sure I 'preciate being tha only Irish character here and bein' called 'The Laborer."

"Let's put it this way," Ghost said more quietly. "Nobody tell Shade why she's called 'The Runaway' in this setting. She doesn't know much about American history and I think we're all better off this way." Everyone at the table hissed through their teeth as the saloon doors flew open. A stereotypically scruffy prospector burst in, clutching his straw hat.

"Halp! Hallllp! Outlaws is attackin' the bank! Who'll save us!"

Patcher gasped and jumped to her feet. "Oh ma stars! Errybody get ready!" She smoothed out her dress and adjusted her corset as a smokey man's voice spoke overhead.

"Choose yourselves wisely. Each member of your posse has their own specialties and keeping the wrong company could spell certain doom out in the desert."

"What was that?" Patcher asked, pointing up at the ceiling.

"The Bouncer..." the deep voice mused. Big Bolt got up from his chair (which gave one last creak of relief). The lumbering robot wore suspenders, dress clothes and a little bowler cap  as he cracked his knuckles and stepped up to the door. He stood there patiently and waited.

"We don't all go on this one. It's different from when we did Halloween," Ghost explained. "Players choose us in groups of four and they run through the event. Some of the girls made a run earlier."

"Wow. Sounds fun."

"The Avenging. The Prospector."

"Is me," Skullfucker said. The black-clad zombie cowgirl had a blue fire for her hair that trailed behind her apathetic face. Anarchy slapped down her cards.

"Fuck me, I soddin' fold. I'll be back, ye bloody cheaters."

"The Sheriff!" The colors on Ghost's outfit lit up a little as she lifted Patcher off her lap.

"Oops. Sorry, babe. Duty calls. Order a drink for me and I'll meet you in a few." She pulled a pair of six-shooters off her belt, twirling them as she stepped up to the door. Once she arrived the four of them charged out of the building. Patcher giggled as she leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs as daintily as she could.

"Did y'all hear that? I'm datin' the sheriff," Patcher said with a smile.

"I like the accent too," Pocket admitted. "It makes you sound extra... um... what's a good word for skanky?"

"Bonnie?" Gladiator offered.

"No, like an ENGLISH word."

"That's right proper English, it is, ye half-pint," Glad grumbled. "Seductive?"

"Yea! That one! Southern charm and shit," Pocket agreed, snapping her fingers. "Hey, we're two players short. You want in, Patches?"

"Oh ah'd love to, Pockets!" Patcher said brightly.

"Yea? You any good?"

"Oh, not at all! I ain't even looked at a deck in mah life. Just lemme get those drinks first!" She trotted off to the bar, just happy to be invited in the first place. Most of the squad had grown to tolerate her. A few pitied her or even liked her. Ghost loved her about as much as the fan artists and the forums did, and she was even getting some decent playtime in matches. Things were going great for her. She reached the bar and found it unmanned, though Dr Dragon was leaning on the counter. She wore a simple white coat with some small medical tools in her pocket, wore semicircular spectacles, and had her hair grown out longer than usual. She sipped something amber-colored out a thick glass as she gave Patcher a quick once over before ignoring her again.

"Howdy, doctor!"

"Oh good lord-that-doesn't-exist." Dragon visibly cringed. "What one earth did they do to your voice?"

"They just gave it some Southern charm, is all."

"Well ask if they'll take it back," the apathetic doctor sneered as she sipped her drink. "Sorry about that. I'm a bit on edge. I'm not used to being away from my dragons for this long."

"I'm awful sorry. Have y'all tried pettin' Bork?"

"I don't want to say yes," Dragon replied dryly. "What do you want?"

"Well I was just checkin' up on ya. But... do you know how a girl can get a drink around here?"

Dragon reached her hand behind her, hovering her drink over the counter. "Refill." The cup filled up again and she went back to work on its contents.

"Two beers, onegai." Oni-San dropped from the ceiling, getting Patcher to jump and shriek before resting a hand on her open cleavage. Two large mugs of beer appeared on the counter top and he passed them off to Patcher.

"Oh howdy, Oni. Thanks a bunch." The dark-skinned ninja had his usual bandana over his face, but this one was checkered and he had some more rough and basic work clothes than he did his usual ninja gi. It gave him a look to match his Outlaw theme with some minimal changes. Patcher sipped one of the beers before gesturing back towards the bar with it. "How's the new place been treating you?"

"It's fine. Thank you, sensei," Oni said with a curt nod. "I was waiting in the rafters until you'd arrived."

"Aww, so you're shy!" Patcher chimed. "Ain't that cute."

"No. I'm a ninja," Oni said plainly. "I'm a master of self-awareness and stealth."

"Huh. That does make more sense, I guess." She waved a beer towards the table, nearly spilling it before Oni's speedy hand reached out and caught it. "Woops. Thank ya kindly. So did y'all wanna come sit with me? Play some cards, have some drinks?"

"...can I do it from the ceiling?"

"I... don't think so." Oni furrowed his brow at that. "But maybe? I can talk to the guys..."

"Nevermind. I'll play a few hands." Patcher smiled brightly and focused over his head. There was no sign of his player ID or anything, but he just had The Outlaw hanging over his head. "That's a right fancy name ya got there. What's everyone been callin' me these days?"

"Harlot," Dragon replied dryly from her perch leaning on the bar.

"Well yeah. But what's my skin called for this event?" Dragon gave her a weary stare until it sank in. "Oh. Right. Sorry. Just The Harlot then..."

"Mommy misses you, my little dragons," the doctor sighed, taking a long gulp and going back to ignoring the rest of her teammates.

Oni and Patcher went back to the card table, getting dealt in when Oni spoke up. "So what is going on exactly? With this cowboy thing, that is."

"Oh right! You weren't around for Halloween so this is your first event!" Patcher chimed when she was done making pleased little noises at her cards. "So there's the usual battle mode, but most folks skedaddle over to the new modes cuz they're only up for a week or two. It's like a story game instead of a random battle, where we fight some NPC bad guys. Every couple of wins, you get a loot box and a special skin. Everybody's got their special one..." Patcher gestured around the saloon. "But I read there's even some dang Mythic Rare ones floatin' around."

"Don't be surprised if ye'r abilities are a wee bit different," Gladiator added as he raised a few chips. He nodded towards the large sledgehammer resting beside him. "But ye'll figure it out." They went through a few hands before the original party came back down the stairs.

"No luck," Ghost reported as she took her beer from Patcher. "We got killed on the train section by some more bandits. Fun though! The bank robbers had a treasure map and-"

"Ooh, no! I wanna be surprised!" Patcher insisted. “I read the summary but I don’t want any actual spoilers.” She tapped her booted foot eagerly until the prospector burst in a few seconds later.

"Halp! Hallllp! Outlaws is attackin' the bank! Who'll save us!" he repeated in the exact same panic as before. Patcher didn't get picked until the third round.

"The Harlot."

"Yeehaw! Let's do this, sugar!" Patcher jumped up and pumped her fist She ran up and waited for her team to gather: Bitchbot (The Bandita), Chainslash (The Lumberjack) and Anarchy (The Prospector). Not the friendliest crew, but they were some powerful fighters in the main game. She imagined they could make some good progress. They stepped out into the blinding sunlight of high noon as some gunfire and shouting came from the bank across the street of the desert western town.

"Bad guys," Chainslash snarled. "Let's rip 'em up. Keep up standin', Healslut." The chubby and lumbering killer was now in some overalls, a checkered flannel shirt, and a plaid cap casting a shadow over his eyes. With a bushy brown beard grown in, it made his face almost as indistinguishable as he would with his usual hood on. Patcher didn't get along great with Chainslash, but she had admit he was aggressive enough to pass for a squad leader in a tight spot.

The team made pretty quick work of the outlaws. Anarchy pulled a smoke bomb from her cleavage and chucked it through the window, giving Bitchbot plenty of cover to cloak in and assassinate a few of them. Chainslash barged through the doors and started punching and chainsawing them down while Patcher hung out by Ann, letting her pump huck bombs in through the windows. Patcher looked more like a lady of the evening than ever as she leaned against the front wall of the bank, eyes darting around her HUD to check her abilities.

"Well, my Rocket Heels are gone, but I got whatever this is," her Southern-twang observed. She nudged the icon and her hand whipped out with a tiny pistol sliding out of her sleeve. It pumped off a quick shot into the door, leaving Patcher gawking at it. "Oh wow! Check it out, y'all! I got a gun! I never did have one of these li'l things!" She stuck out her tongue as she poked her head in the door, pumping off a few curious shots. Two knocked one in the back, taking him out while the rest went wild into the window behind him.

"Nice shooting. How much is in your reload?" Ann asked as she lit another stick of dynamite.

"My what?"

"On your hud. Little number on the right side."

"I, uh...." Patcher squinted as she focused on the data outside her basic vision. "I don't got any reload. I have... zero. Ah might only have six bullets total..."

"Well grand." Anarchy rolled her eyes as she chucked the explosive over her shoulder and into the window. "Made 'em count, did ya?"

"Ah mean, ah did get that one feller..." A sharp whistle came from inside the bank.

"We're all clear inside, cowards," Bitchbot The Bandita said dryly, pushing her sombrero back into her eyes. Patcher hurried inside and pulled on Chainslash's arm, peppering kisses on his cheeks to start refilling his health.

"Heehee! Your new beard tickles somethin' powerful," Patcher giggled. Anarchy rolled her eyes as she entered after her and scanned the room.

"It's a fuckin' short level, no i'nit?" the bomber asked as she kicked one of the bandit bodies.

Patcher let herself drop to her feet again as Chain got filled up. "Ghost said there was a map somewhere in here when she came back," she offered. Bitchbot glared over the room before stepping up to one of the bodies of the generic-looking cowboys. She extended her wrist spike, jamming it into his side and flipping him over. "Got it," she replied, holding up the simple map that was glowing orange. The glow faded as Bitchbot shuddered briefly, her eyes changing to the same orange color as she blinked vacantly.

"New checkpoint," she droned lazily. She casually lifted her poncho to keep talking while Patcher ducked under it and started to kiss and suck on her smooth robotic breasts to top her off. "It says there's something important over at Thunder Creek, and there's a train heading there in a few minutes."

"Maybe it's a hideout for more of 'em," Chain grunted as he flicked a blade on his chainsaw, letting its chain spin slowly.

"Or treasure," Patcher chimed as she pulled her head out of the poncho. "Treasure's on a lot of maps, ain't it?"

"Doesn't matter anyway. Checkpoint's a checkpoint," Anarchy dismissed. "Let's get on this train and go blow up some walking piles o' points so we can win this bloody match."

The world itself was incredible shallow and simple. The whole town was maybe twenty houses and buildings for them to walk past and a handful of barely-moving civilians didn't even turn to look at them let alone talk. A conductor called for "all aboard" and never interacted with them beyond Bitchbot emitting another beep when they got on the train, sitting in the big and cushy seats. Patcher at least got to sit with Anarchy, the only one who could offer any meaningful conversation. She sorted through her bombs while grumbling about the team's layout while Patcher listened politely. She suddenly stared into space.

"Wait a sec. Ghost said they died on the train." Anarchy glanced up at her, realizing she had been right about the map. "Get ready."

"Ready for what?"

"I dunno." Patcher got to her knees in front of her, pulling off Anarchy's pants. "Bad guys. Or maybe a timed crash or something. Either way, this shouldn't take long. I've been practicing on Ghost a lot lately."

"It better be," Anarchy grumbled as she looked over her shoulder. She prepped a few sticks of TNT while Patcher buried her face in between the pale Brit's thighs. She pushed her face in with a soft, wet sound as Ann grunted, gripping her hand with one hand while the other squeezed her stick of dynamite. She moaned softly as Patcher's tongue worked around inside her, spreading or swallowing her saliva and Anarchy's pussy juices. The talented blonde curled her tongue to lightly brush the tip against the bottom of Anarchy's clitoris, getting her to grit her teeth and thrust her legs out. "That's the fuckin' ticket," Anarchy grunted as she humped her face. Her boots kicked into the kneeling Healer's thighs but she shut her eyes and focused on putting her tongue where it belonged. Anarchy gave out a husky moan and squirted over her face when there came a loud thud from the other side of the train car.

"Alright! Where's the map?!" a gruff voice demanded. It belonged to one of another dozen or so bandits wielding rifles and shotguns instead of the knives and pistols of the first batch.

"Good fuckin' call," Anarchy told Patcher, shoving her head under the seat and leaning out into the aisle. She pitched a sizzling stick of dynamite down the row. The random passengers didn't seem to react while a few of the bandits yelped before the explosive went off in their faces. Chainslash shoved his way into the aisle and went barreling towards the stunned survivors while Bitchbot leapt up and clung to the ceiling, creeping like a spider after them while dodging and firing metallic spikes from her wrist. Chain brutally (but bloodlessly) impaled one attacker on his chainsaw before he stomped on a downed one's neck. Bitchbot dropped back down to sling her legs around a standing shotgunner's neck. She twisted to drag him to the train floor and squeezed until she heard a crack.

"Was it good for you too, dead boy?" Bot scoffed as she pumped another spike shot into the last one's gut. She sniffed and gestured towards Patcher as she got back up. "Quick. Fix me up while I can still feel the warmth leaving his body." Patcher ran obediently up to the robot assassin, holding her face and kissing her firmly.

"So what now?" Chainslash grunted. "Pretty shitty level if the rest of it's waiting on a train."

Patcher suddenly stumbled as the train bucked, knocking her face into Bitchbot and feeling like she'd chipped a tooth as it hit her endoskeleton. Bot shoved her away angrily as she looked at the others, knowing the speechless and mumbling passengers in the seats were useless. "What was that?"

"Definitely a big bloody bomb," Anarchy confirmed. "Front of the train. Someone doesn't want us gettin' where we're goin'."

Bitchbot beeped and the orange shade returned to her eyes. "Definitely. We've got 15 seconds to bail, people."

"Shite'n a half," Anarchy growled as she gestured behind the boxcar, Patcher already fleeing towards the door. Bitchbot went back to the ceiling to avoid the crowds as Patcher reached and flung open the door. She went paler than ever as she looked down at the speeding track below and the grassy hill beside it.

"Uh... guys? Jumping sounds like a really bad idea right now," she said warily. She squeaked as Anarchy shoved her in the back, sending her flying off.

"Too bad! It's the only fuckin' idea right now!" the bomber barked. She leapt out after her, followed by the neatly flipping Bitchbot. They tumbled down the hill, Patcher wincing and grunting as branches and bumps flew past her whirling vision. She came tumbling to a stop on a patch of grass, a little banged up but her HP already starting to fix itself. She heard the others land in thumping, cursing spots nearby as she brushed dirt and grass off herself off.

"Ah shoot. I only just got these new duds," Patcher complained. "Where'd Chain get to?" The train screeched in a mix of explosions and metal on the path above them, followed by a long bellow. With a meaty thud, Chainslash's smoking corpse landed a few feet away from her.  "Oh... well at least we kept the body," she said brightly. "I'll get 'em back on his feet in a jiff."

Patcher climbed over one of his beefy legs and started grinding her butt on his leg before hopping back and bouncing it against his groin. She leaned over to brace her back against his gut and wiggle her booty when a loud gunshot sounded nearby. Patcher froze as she saw a few more armed outlaws step out of the woods. One especially tall and decked out man (pistols, knives, a whip, and a long rifle in particular) wearing a gas mask stepped forward. "Looks like the good doctor's boys failed again... but Mahunt don't fail..." He cocked his gun and Patcher winced as her view suddenly zoomed in on him, "Manhunt the bounty hunter!" flashing across the screen.

"Ow! I hate it when cinematic intros do that," she hissed, rubbing between her eyes.

"We've got him. Keep up your slutting," Bitchbot ordered. Her and Anarchy rushed the mob, Patcher hurrying to revive their tank as she climbed onto his stomach and broke into a split. She winced as a few men with heavy coach guns blew Anarchy off her feet, dropping her in mid-throw. Bitchbot got a few good shots on the troops before they mowed her down, leaving Patcher on her own. Chainslash had barely started to stir when the gas masked hunter cocked his rifle.

"Better luck next time, gorgeous," he grunted before there was a loud bang.

Patcher yawned and stretched as she got out of her bed back at the inn. Dying was never actually painful in Merc Squad, it was just jarring. Smart players knew to target her to take out the team's healing, so she had gotten used to it after a couple times. She trotted downstairs, passing by Anarchy on her way down with a beer bottle already in hand.

"How'd it go?" Ghost asked as she returned to the saloon, sitting back at her card table.

"Oh it was so dang exciting! I'm not used to games with a story in 'em!" Patcher gushed, brushing back some of her hair. "Oh, and I got a gun this time! Ain't that neat?"

"So what'd I miss? I don't mind spoilers," Rocket insisted, leaning over the table and her rack almost knocking over her pile of chips. "I heard there's a map and a train."

"Right, so..."

"Halp! Hallllp! Outlaws is attackin' the bank! Who'll save us!"

"Ooh, who's it this time?" Patcher asked herself, sitting back down.

"The Spirit," the narration declared grimly.

"Hells yea! Let me at it!" Pocket Rocket grabbed her totem pole and scurried over in her animal furs.

"The Outlaw... The Harlot... and The Sheriff."

"Yeehaw! All my bust buds is comin' along!" Patcher cheered as Ghost and Oni got up from their seats. Bork gave a quick bark and she ruffled the bandana-clad husky. "And you too, Borky, but I gotta go git this here mission done. I'm sure we'll play together." Patcher walked over to the rest of her posse as she checked her wristband. It remained its neutral white, but she beamed and tapped it knowingly. Her favorite player was back in the event, sure as clockwork: Healslutfan42069 was directing her once again.

Things were essentially identical to last time, if done with different teammates. She was surprised to find Pocket and Oni made a great pair; Pocket mounted yanked out his cock and herself on top, nuzzled up against his chest and firing off balls of spectral blue fire at the targets. Patcher made sure to save her shots this time as Ghost just tore through the early bandits with her double pistols before grabbing Patcher around the waist, kissing her passionately to top off her health.

"Got the map! It's spirit guide time!" Pocket reported, changing her wispy smoke to a shade of sunset orange that drifted down the road towards the train station. They got themselves on the train and waiting the short ride out, Pockets in Oni's lap while Patcher and Ghost made out and fingered her into a quickie buff.

"Outlaws on the train," Ghost muttered when she finally tugged her jeans back up.

"Shotguns and rifles," Patcher said with a nod. Ghost stood up preemptively and whistled to the others, nodding her head at the  door as she pulled out her guns. Patcher just leaned out and smacked her girlfriend on the butt. "Go get 'em, hotshot." Ghost chuckled and opened fire when the door had barely opened, blowing one assailant right off his feet with a headshot. Oni darted down the aisle with a few precise cuts of his sword and Pocket bombarded the last of them with her spirit blasts. Patcher ran past everyone with some quick kisses to their cheeks, picking up Pocket as she passed her by.

"Train's about to crash. Back door, y'all!" she ordered. "You'll take a little damage but we'll be fine!" This time the team were all quick enough that they reached the door quickly enough. "Oh, and there's this feller Manhunt down there. He'll have more fellas with more guns and a big ol' rifle. We probably oughta take out his boys before we get to him."

"Sounds like a plan," Ghost said with a shrug. They all leapt off together, bouncing their way down and Patcher immediately crawling up to kiss Pocket on the mouth. She tossed the shortstack over to Oni, who let her mount up on his dick once again. Patcher got behind Ghost and started kissing her cheek, which seemed to break the mood when Manhunt and his boys burst out of the woods.

"Looks like the good doc owwwwww." Manhunt cut off his intro as Patcher reached over Ghost's shoulder and shot him in the arm. "Alright! Fine! No cutscene intro then! It was gonna be a good one this time!" he snapped through his gas mask.

"Oh, you can actually talk! Cool!" Patcher noted, but Ghost shoved her aside and ran the other direction, firing with her free hand. Oni was a strange sight, dodging and slashing through the crowd while Pocket stayed impaled on his dick.

"I gotta say, ninja boy, you got the nicest fit I've ever felt. Don't even have to stretch it out to to get you inside me," the alien/spirit complimented.

"That's not exactly high praise where I come from," Oni muttered as he chopped a shotgun in half and then cut down its owner.

Manhunt took some shots at Patcher and Ghost, but they had split up and moved fast enough that Ghost finally mowed him down with her bombarding six-shooters.

She dumped out the empty shells and started reloading as she looked around. "What now, spirit guide?" she asked, looking to Pocket.

"Next..." Pocket reached into her loincloth and pulled out the map. "There's a checkpoint deeper in the woods. That way, down the obvious path." She pointed out to a spot in the trees that did, in fact, suddenly have a smooth path going in. They knocked out a few more random ambushes without any trouble, but a voice came crackling from a speaker overhead.

"You all couldn't take a hint... leave well enough alone," said an old man's voice. Or maybe it sounded old because of the crackly audio. It was hard to tel. "Well now you'll see what Professor Steamengine has been up to in these lonely woods..."

"Is his name seriously Professor Steamengine?" Pocket scoffed.

"Gee, I dunno, 'Pocket Rocket," Ghost scoffed while giving air quotes around her guns. "I think realism has been tossed out the window. Just stay alert. Those anachronistic speakers might mean it’s time for a boss fight." The gang readied their weapons as they reached a clearing at the end of the path. It looked something like an old lumber mill or a large base camp. A tall wooden structure was at the far side, looking like a small warehouse from their distance. A few more of the bandits from earlier came out of the tents and cabins as Ghost whistled sharply to get everyone’s attention. “I got four on stage left, three right,” she sniper called quickly. “Use your cover, don’t let them gang up on you, and take em out!”

It was a little more hectic than that, but everyone got away with little more than a few stray bullets in them. Patcher ran around healing for most of the skirmishing, but she did end up getting a jump on one of them and taking him out with one shot. It definitely seemed to be built for getting the jump on people, given how much damage her few but sudden pot shots were doing. By the time they regrouped in the middle of camp, Ghost was reloading while Pocket walked after her with her six-foot long frog tongue stuck down her pants. By the look on her face, it was uncomfortable but effective. “Bunch more scrubs, but no boss fight. We’re still in the level so it can’t be done yet. We might have another clue or map or something around.”

“Well ah’m gonna top him off with a lil ol’ boost just in case,” Patcher said as she dropped to her knees and tugged down enough of Oni’s pants to pop his cock out. She wrapped her lips around him and starting some soft, wet suckling as she rolled it around in her tongue. Oni took in a deep breath as he quickly started getting hard in her mouth. He tried to avoid the others’ eyes as she healed him and started towards her buff, but Patcher looked up at Ghost and winked. The sniper-turned-sheriff smirked back, and the sight of her girlfriend enjoying the show made Patcher push her face in deeper, moaning as she took the dark-skinned ninja’s cock in deeper. Oni let out a brief puff of air at her more intense blowjob, only to hear a loud hiss and a creaking noise behind them.

“Uh, gang,” Pocket warned as she slurped her tongue back into her mouth. A loud voice rang out from the larger building in the rear of the camp.

“Oh no! My creation! My Steam Beast! How can this-?” the old man’s voice from earlier shouted. It was cut off as the wall of the building was smashed to pieces by a two-story tall machine. It moved on four clawed legs with a vaguely dog-like face made of bear traps and pistons and two large valves for eyes. Huge pipes on its back pumped out steam and smoke like mad as it let out a mechanical roar. The group stared as Patcher suddenly pulled her mouth off of Oni’s wet cock.

“What in tarnation is that!?” Patcher exclaimed as she wiped off her mouth.

“Looks like a remodel on Bork’s framework with metal bits. Point being… unload on it!” Ghost ordered. Her and Pocket broke off in a firing retreat towards some of the shacks but the robotic monster ran after them, trampling the tents and logs that had acted as cover before. It let out a grinding bark as it gnashed its teeth, biting and flinging Pocket halfway across the camp. 

“Ah’m right sorry, but we’re kind of in a hurry, Oni!” Patcher took the ninja’s cock for some quick jerking before sheathing it into her mouth with one swift push. Oni shook and came down her throat as the blonde clenched her mouth and lips around him. His legs tensed until they hurt as she gulped him down and pulled back off of him, letting him pull up his pants and go sprinting after the beast. Ghost emptied her pistols into its face before she jumped around behind a cabin. The steampunk monster rammed into a wall instead of her, just for Oni to jump on its back and start slashing away with his sword.

Pocket Rocket was still flying through the air when she turned around and shot at the ground, boosting herself up a little higher. “That does it!!” the little alien snapped. She reached behind her and pulled out a massive rocket lined with several smaller devices and projectiles. She stuffed it into the open front of her totem and aimed it at the Steam Beast. “Happy Fourth of July, pipe dick! Now enjoy the fireworks!” She unleashed her Ultra Attack as a man-sized rocket that sprayed out smaller missiles and gouts of flame alongside it, peppering the Steam Beast with smaller explosions before hitting it with the main giant blast. Patcher touched down with a proud laugh. 

“That’ll show ya, rust nuts!” she gloated at the massive smoke cloud. She squinted towards it with a puzzled frown. “Hey, that thing IS dead, right? OH SHIT!” Pocket went scrambling away on all fours as the Steam Beast did the same, snarling and blasting steam from its pipes. Pocket tried to make a jump for it but it swiped a metal claw that knocked her into a wall, dropping her unconscious on the ground. Patcher instinctively ran after her downed comrade, sitting on the stunned alien’s face to start her lapdance. She squatted to work her knees and thighs back and forth, rubbing her snatch on Pocket’s stubby little nose. 

“When does it die!?” Oni-San shouted as his sword sliced some important-looking mass of valves and gears off the Steam Beast.

“Who knows!? It’s the first time anybody’s seen this thing!” Ghost yelled back. She winced as it rammed into another log cabin and crushed Oni between them. He fell off holding his side as the robotic dog-thing turned back towards Ghost. It snarled a mouthful of oil and steam at her, but she scowled back and opened fire as she ran away. “You want some more metal in you, cabrone!? Come get it! Patch! Get them back up!”  

Oni dashed over to Patcher while she was still swirling her hips on top of the twitching Pocket Rocket. She turned and raised her hips towards Oni as she pushed her tits into Pocket's face. “Here! I’ve got a back door,” Patcher offered, popping a few buttons off her skirt and sliding her lacy underwear down with it. Oni didn’t have the time to hesitate as he thrust into her, getting a soft squeak from Patcher as she tried to cater to both teammates at once. He pumped her pussy a few times, but Steam Beast’s various pipes glowed and shot out a dense burst of steam in their direction. “Sensei! Incoming!” Oni shoved Patcher off his dick, trying to shield his face before he was blown off his feet by the scalding steam. He collapsed next to  one of the nearby tents. Steam Beast slashed its claws at Ghost, getting a shrill shout of her before she put her pistols to its metal skull and emptied both weapons. They clicked empty as the creature still snarled and turned to her, its leaking pipes squealing with overbearing steam.

Patcher winced as she looked down at the stirring Pocket Rocket. Her eyes were barely blinking back to life, meaning she had a few more seconds until she revived. Ghost probably wouldn't last that long, and odds were only slightly better for the two of them. "Y'all sit tight, Pocky!" Patcher advised, shifting her hips forward so that she was straddling her face again. She bumped her crotch on her face to no real rhythm as she reached under for her garter belt and pulled out her tiny pistol. "Let her go, ya yellow bellied tin can!" she yelled as she blasted it in the back a few times with her puny weapon. To her surprise, it let out a shrill, metallic howl and collapsed with an engine-like hiss.

"Patch?" Ghost panted as she poked her head out from behind the defeated steampunk monstrocity. "Did you just kill a boss?"

"Did ah just kill a boss?" Patcher repeated, asking herself as she looked at her gun. She squinted and brought up her statistics, scrolling past her skills and checking on her deringer. "Well bless mah Aunt Fannie! This li'l firecracker does triple damage when I catch 'em in the back!"

A muffled noise came from beneath her, vibrating her crotch until Patcher jumped back off. The alien girl took a deep breath of fresh air as she blinked at the sky. "I was saying, way to make 'em count, Patchy! First boss kill in the history of the dang game! My girl's setting records over here!"

"Oh mah stars, I really did it!?" Patcher squealed, jumping and jiggling up and down.

"You got a good start," Ghost assured her. She put her hands on Patcher's shoulders and settled her down (even if her eyes kept watching her jugs bouncing well after she stopped). "But wake up Oni. We haven't beat the level yet."

A quick twerking dance got the ninja back on his feet and they went to the remains of the larger building. The rubble was conveniently cleared from one distinct path, leading them right into a half-open trap door in the damaged floor. Ghost kept one gun ready as she opened the door, but they were blinded by a bright, golden light. By the time Patcher blinked the spots out of her eyes, Ghost tossed a shiny golden crate the size of a beach ball at Oni. It was the unmistakable look of a loot box!

"Looks like we found treasure after all, gang," Ghost said with a smirk. There was the familiar tingling as they all vanished from the map and Patcher and Ghost reappeared in their room at the tavern, boxes still in hand.

"Nice work out there, Bambi." Ghost patted her on the thigh and kissed her on the cheek. She held out her box and let it vanish from her hands, sending it off to the player's profile. Patcher gave hers a quick kiss for good luck before passing it off into the ether. Ghost sat up and nodded towards the door. "I'm going to spread the news so the troops have a heads up on the map. I wouldn't go dragging your feet either. You Healers are gonna be in high demand for this event."

Ghost was certainly right. Patcher found herself called on again when their quest-giver showed up a few minutes later. Her, Big Bolt, Bitchbot, and Duct Tape (dressed in old timey dress shirt, slacks and spectacles, entitled "The Teller!") were called upon for the third run. Duct shared a radar with his teammates, detecting the outlaws in the bank and pinpointing their location. Big Bolt let out an alarm-like beep as he cracked his knuckles and kicked in the door.

"I love it when you talk dirty, Biggy," Bitchbot purred as she leapt onto his shoulder and started skewering thugs on her projectile spikes. With their knowledge of the stage and a capable Tank, they made much smoother work out of this run. Patcher called out to Manhunt and waved to him, which distracted him from as Bitchbot happily leapt out of the trees and impaled his head on her wrist spike. The Steam Beast went down more easily with a dedicated Tank, Duct throwing lightning grenades and Big Bolt letting the Steam Beast rip off his unnecessary limbs while he punched the crap out of it. Patcher happily delivered another crate to her player, just to find herself called on again for the next round.

"Well dang!" Patcher said as she stepped up once again. "Guess I'm right lucky this stage is so gosh darn fun!"

Through the fragile veil of realities that seperated people from players, Healslutfan42069 groaned as she slumped into her seat. "Another fucking dud," she reported over her headset. "This is some bullshit."

"It's only your second try," Magnum_Dong replied more casually. "Just stick with it."

"I can't wait, man," Healslutfan huffed as she picked Patcher again. "Have you SEEN her Legend Skin? Cowgirl outfit! ACTUAL cowgirl! Like moomoo suck my tits cowgirl! How sexy is that?"

"Pretty sexy, mommy," UniBear PartII replied.

"You can stop calling me that, you know."

"What?! Since when!?"

"Since like a week ago! I just thought it was hot! Now come on. I've got to be up at ten in the morning and I'm not letting this thing get away from me!"

As much as the players went grinding, the skin didn't show. Patcher caught bits and pieces in the text chat that confused her until some chat came through.

Healslutfan42069: fuck this shit. again? where's my damn cow skin?!

"Aww, is that what this was about?" Patcher asked, knowing the players couldn't hear her. She sat on the bed and frowned. Healslutfan42069 was always special to her. She was the only player to give her a chance before she got popular. Patcher felt like she owed her a lot. "Poor thing..."

GrumpyGamerD: dude, didn't you say you have work tomorrow?

Healslutfan42069: today. I have a new job tody. It's 3 am here.

GrumpyGamerD: wut

SocknBopr84: what? get some sleep!

Healslutfan42069: but my skin!

GrumpyGamerD: you can't afford the wifi if you don't have a job! go to bed!

Healslutfan42069: ...

Healslutfan42069: fuckin fine

Patcher frowned as she saw her favorite player sign off. She'd been playing as her all night and still hadn't earned her Legend Skin. She chewed her lip, wishing she could do something to help. An idea came to her at last and she went running down the stairs. "Ghost! Hey, Ghost! Can ah volunteer for one of these here missions?!" Ghost was wearing a bowler hat and some suspenders slung across her shoulder, sitting at the card table from the half-dressed Big Bolt. She set down her drink and looked at her.

"What? No. You have to get picked by a player, same as always."

"There's gotta be something though, right? We played all them there Randomizer games with no players involved."

"I mean... we can be bots, but that's special occasions." She saw the hopeful look in her girlfriend's eyes and sighed, nodding towards Duct Tape. He was sitting in the corner, looking over a pile of books by himself. "I have no idea, but hacker boy might."

Patcher gave her another quick kiss and pulled up a chair across from Duct Tape. The scrawny hacker looked up from his books, closing one of them and folded his arms. "Howdy there, Ducky. How's it goin'?"

"Er... fine," he said uneasily. "Why?"

"I wanted to know if there's a way I could play the game."

"What? Like... Merc Wars? Cuz I used to mod Fort Fite on my laptop, but that got confiscated for-"

"Yea! Could I be Healslut42069 for her and grind to get more loot boxes?"

"I mean... maybe? If we could hack her profile, it's theoretically possible to spoof her info and simulate an online player. But like I said, I don't have my laptop. I couldn't hack a cash register like this." He gestured out to his dull pile of books. Patcher bit her lip and looked him up and down.

"But... if you did. Then wouldja do it for little ol' me?"

Duct Tape grimaced. "Patch, you're talking about hijacking the game we live in. I'd need a pretty good reason to risk getting caught by the mods."

"Well then," Patcher purred, sliding her curvy rump onto the table near his books. His eyes went towards them as she booty bumped a couple of them off the table, and she started to see him sweat. "How about this for an offer, sugar? You help me play the game... and I don't tell them you hacked the game so you could sneak your precious laptop in under that there pile of books."

DT froze for a moment and stopped breathing. He finally sighed and cleaned his glasses off as she called his bluff. "Fine!" he grumbled, pushing a few books aside to reveal his slim computer and started typing. "What was the name again?"

Patcher giggled and jumped to her feet. "Healslutfan42069!"

"I can't believe that's real," Duct muttered, but he clicked a few things and swapped some code. "There. You're registered. You have her full login access, as far as playing the game goes."

"Yessss! Thank you, Duct!" She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek before running off towards the front of the bar. The prospector threw open the doors and got in a "Halp!" before Patcher jumped in his way.

"The Harlot!" the narrator grumbled as Patcher checked her wristband, confirming she had the ID in place.

"Alright! Time to pull an allnighter, y'all!"

It wasn't easy making the runs herself. She felt a little more hesitant and unsure without player input to guide her, so she stumbled through her first run and she died during the final bandit campground. Fortunately, the rest of her team beat the boss by themselves and that still technically counted as a win and another box. She ran another and this time she refused to let anyone down! She stayed glued to Gladiator's side, and as he mowed down men with his massive sledgehammer, she was kneeling between his legs almost choking on his giant shaft to keep him healed and buffed. Her jaw was starting to hurt by her fifth run of the night, and she'd resorted to using her pussy or ass to keep her teammates standing.

"You know you can sit one out, princesa," Ghost offered as Patcher ran back down the stairs.

"Can't now, sugar!" she urged quickly. "Mah last box was just an icon, some Merc Gold and a Big Bolt emote! Gotta run! Love ya, darlin'!"

Her seventh run was one of her sloppier ones. She had joined up with Bork, Roadblock and Shade, apparently players looking to try out some of the lesser used characters. Bork (The Scout) was dressed in a cute little bandana and cowboy hat as well as a doggy-sized leather jacket. Roadblocker played The Railroad Baron, a well-dressed man in a stovepipe hat and monocle with a well-used wrench in hand. Nobody had still had the heart to tell Shade that she was The Runaway because of the slavery issues of the time, but the burly black woman in simple clothes was still a force of nature with her blunderbuss and shovel in hand.

They were going strong until Bork was caught off guard by a shotgun blast while they were on the forest path. Patcher ran to revive him as Shade blew up a few of them with a musket blast, wading into the enemies with her shovel swinging away to cover her. Roadblocker threw down some scrap metal that folded into a barricade for them to use, just to eat a musket ball to the face and go down on the wrong side of it.

"Oh gosh, oh gosh!" Patcher fretted, peering over at the cornered Shade. She cringed as she looked down at the motionless Bork. She knew the tactical choice. She knew what she needed to turn the tide around, and her handful of gunshots weren't going to cut it. "Okay... okay, this is just between us, okay?" Patcher said quietly to the KOed dog. "Nobody's going to know. You have to promise not to tell. Say nothing if you promise."

Bork laid still with his tongue out on the ground.

"Okay, deal." Patcher took a deep breath as she straddled his belly, resting her hands on his chest and scratching around the fluffy spot. She bit her lip and awkwardly started to grind up and down, wincing when she felt his bulge push between her thighs and recoiling back up. She winced and finally leaned in, kissing along the stunned dog's muzzle and flicking her tongue on his. He finally started to wriggle, making her thighs clamp around his middle to stay on top of him. The dog lazily opened his eyes as she let him stick his cold nose between her chest and lick at her cleavage. "Yea. Yea, good boy," she muttered quietly. She heard a brief cry as Shade went down to the gunfire, but the bandits grumbled and seemed to lose track of her.

Bork got up and licked her face, rolling to all fours. He opened his mouth to bark but Patcher clamped her hands around his muzzle. "No! Wait a sec there, cowpoke! We can't take 'em on like this!"

Bork tilted his head at her quizzically.

"I need to give you a buff first." He let out a confused whine. "I know! I know what that means! And I really don't want to, but I kinda need to win this mission!" Bork gave a low growl. "It's nothing against you! I just... what if I like it? Like, what if I give you a buff and you like it and I like it, and every time I go to get off one of the other teammates I'm like 'Gee, this doesn't feel as good as Bork's dick' every time I try?!"

Bork watched her with a blank stare until she sighed. "Or maybe I'm worried about nothing. It's just a line I never had to cross and you're such a good boy... so like, maybe don't look at me while I do it?" Bork stared again before rolling onto his back, legs arched over his belly. Patcher took a deep breath and turned away, feeling around blindly until she finally wrapped her hand around Bork's cock. It was warm and vaguely fuzzy, a weird new sensation as she started to rub it. Bork let out a low, happy whine as he let her do her work, refusing to look while biting her lip.

"Right? It's not so bad," Patcher told both Bork and herself as she went on jerking off the cyborg-husky mutt. She tried to keep quiet, but the musky smell of the excited canine hit her nose and she knew her way around pheromones. She chanced a glance over when curiosity got the best of her, right before she saw him unsheathed and leaking precum over her fingers. "I think that means you're almost done, so let's pick it up a little," she muttered, stroking firmer and faster over his wet shaft. Bork let out a few low grunts and growls until he let out a sharp howl, writhing in the dirt excitedly as his steaming hot seed spilled over her hand and his dick swelled larger than ever between her fingers.

"Ewwww ew ew I didn't know it did that!" Patcher whined, pulling her hand back and wiping it off on her dress.

"Hey, did you hear somethin'?" one of the bandits asked, cocking their weapons as they approached. A newly invigorated Bork broke into a snarl and pounced over the barrier, mauling one in a split second before turning and tackling the other.

"Atta boy, Bork! Remember it's our secret!" she insisted as she ran up and started to grind her ass on Shade's lap.

That was one more win down. The buffed Bork proved to be a decent Tank in his own right, seemingly the only character to run faster than the boss while keeping his attention. “Sorry! Gotta kill you again!” Patcher called to the metallic monster. “I’m starting to feel sorta bad about this!”

“SSSssssno problem,” the monster hissed through its vents. “Prrrrrrrt of the job…” It gave her a small nod of acknowledgement before Shade’s musket shot brought it down for another win. “Grrrrrood luck with your loot,” its engine growled briefly before it died out completely. They grabbed their loot boxes and returned to the tavern. Patcher went back downstairs as Ghost looked to her hopefully.

"Not this time," Patcher admitted. "I just really wanna wash my hands then I'll get back on it."

"O...kay. You do that," Ghost noted quietly. "I haven't been called on in a while so I was gonna wait for my turn back in bed. I'll catch you there next time."

"Thanks, Bork. I mean, dicks, Ghost. I mean, Bork's dick. I mean, thanks, Ghost!"

Ghost just blinked at her for a minute. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe later," Patcher admitted as she dipped her hands in the wash bin. "Don't worry your pretty li'l headover me. I can do at least one more."

"Halp! Hallllp! Outlaws is attackin'-"

"SHUT UP! The bank! We know!" Patcher erupted at him. Even the elderly NPC froze at that one. "Sorry," she added mousily. "Sorry, I've had a long day at work here. Thank you for telling us. You’re doing a very good job."

That turned out to be her toughest job yet. As friendly as Bork was in following her around the bar, she wasn't matched up with him again. Instead she had a team of nothing but the biggest Tanks in the game: Big Bolt, Gladiator, and Chainslash formed a squad of heavyweights and HP, with her stuck on healing duty for all three of them. When she wasn't hanging off Big Bolt and kissing all over his metallic face, she was slurping Chain's shaft or swallowing Glad's balls while working his shaft. Some reckless behavior before the final basecamp ended up in just what she was worried about as the three huge and hung Tanks all needed healing at once.

"Ye need us ta take a break there, lass?" Gladiator offered, resting his sledgehammer on the ground.

"No... no, I'm good," the sweating Patcher assured with a flimsy smile. "We can do this, guys. Plus if you go too slow in the forest area, more ambush parties show up to make it harder. So come on." She tugged the quick release on her skirt, dropping the back off while she ran a tongue over her lips to wet her mouth again. "Help yourselves, boys."

There was no easy way to do it. She cupped Gladiator's heavy, hairy balls as she gulped down what she could of his massive cock. She moaned and pumped her head slowly over it, pacing herself at first before deciding they couldn't bother with delays. She ran her head along faster, puckering her lips tighter and flicking her tongue all along his shaft. She was sitting in Big Bolt's lap, the robot's iron hands around her middle as his piston of a shaft pumped into her pussy. There was no soft and gentle when it came to him, however courteous he tried to be. His equivalent of a dick had one setting, and it was metal-hard piston. It kept her whole body bouncing until she was surprised she wasn't taking damage from the pounding sensation in her hips and belly. Chainslash helped himself to her asshole, stuffing himself between her cheeks and pushing her even harder into Glad. Patcher let out the occasional whine as his girth pushed deep inside her, forcing her to gag on the sweaty, spit-coated dick of the burly Irishman ahead of her.

Patcher drooled and moaned powerlessly between the biggest boys on the team until she let out a pathetic squeal. Her body finally gave in as she orgasmed all over Big Bolt's iron rod, swallowing noisily as Gladiator came into her mouth. The thick mess invaded her throat and overflowed past her lips as another dose went up her asshole, filling her with the slimey warmth as her eyes watered from the chain of sloppy orgasms. Even Big Bolt's piston quivered inside her (further teasing her aching clit) and spilled some thick black oil inside her.

"I feel better'n ever!" Gladiator boasted as he pulled back out of her. Bolt let out a triumphant series of beeps while Chain let out a hearty laugh.

"That really did the trick, Healslut! I could kill a hundred dudes like this!"

"No... no problem," Patcher mumbled. She was tired, high on her orgasm and coated in cum, but she was still smiling wearily. "Glad I could... help..." She wretched and spit out a wad of cum onto her lap, coughing as her eyes watered up again. Bolt made a few softer beeps as Gladiator knelt down and patted her on the shoulder.

"I appreciate it, lass, but take a rest this round." He lifted her up easily in one of his powerful arms, cradling her against his chest. "You just rest yer wee pretty head out by the edge of the camp and we'll come to ye if we need anythin'. We'll be fine for a wee bit."

"Okay, daddy," Patcher mumbled as she curled up to his chest and let herself doze off. It got the towering red headed man to blush as he carried her off, propping her up against one of the tents before the ambush started. Patcher vaguely remembered kissing something, but she was too tired to care and nodded off again.

"Hey. Hey, sleeping beauty." Patcher opened her eyes to see Ghost sitting on the bed next to her.

"Oh... when did I fall asleep?" she muttered.

"You didn't. We don't sleep. You just passed the fuck out." Ghost picked up a cup of water and passed it to her, letting Patcher gulp it down. "You've been running yourself ragged out there."

"But I didn't get Healslutfan her skin," Patcher muttered wearily. She tried to sit up but Ghost rested a hand on her forehead and eased her back down.

"Take a breather, honey. At least open your last prize before you do anything else this stupid." Patcher looked at where another loot box rested on her legs. She sucked some air through her teeth and tapped on it, letting the box explode into confetti and glitter. The Gynoid skin for Bitchbot, the musician taunt for Dr Dragon, and... a quick flash as Patcher's clothes vanished and reappeared in a cow-patterned bikini, complete with a headband of plastic horns and ears. A felt tail dangled from the back of her swimsuit.

"I did it! Ghost! I got it! I got the skin!" she squealed, grabbing and hugging her girlfriend as she laughed wildly. "I can't believe it!"

"The number gods must love your skanky ass," Ghost chuckled as she hugged her back. "Now will you please, PLEASE log out and get some rest? You know I love you to death and you're always beautiful to me... but you look like absolute shit and I don't want that sweet coochie of yours to get used so much it falls off."

"Yea.. yea, ok. Tell the guys I'm sorry for bailing." She let herself collapse back into bed, Ghost just petting her hair for a while to make sure she stayed asleep after all her hard work.

Healslutfan42069 woke up and got dressed for her interview, grudgingly pulling on a dress shirt and slacks instead of her gamer shirt and skirt (even if she was used to playing games in her underwear). She logged into Merc Wars to check her messages, surprised to see some she didn't remember.

"wtf are you still doing awake?"

"I thought you were good at this game. what happened?"

"is this THE Healslutfan420?"

"nice save on that round!"

Healslutfan shook her head in disbelief. "Must be some kind of glitch..." she muttered. After a little thinking, she loaded up her inventory. Her suspicions were right: there was a model of Patcher, posing in her latest item: The Real Cowgirl. Somehow she looked... tired? Either way, Healslutfan broke into a grin. "Did I download a bot or something? Cuz this is some Christmas miracle bullshit right here." The player broke into a laugh, double checking herself in the mirror and fixing her hair. She kissed her hand and slapped it against the monitor.

"Whatever you did, bitch, thanks a million. I'll be back, my waifu! Wish me luck out there in boring-ass reality!"