Tune in This Time Next Week for Another Exciting Episode of WHEEL-OF-FAAAAAAAATES! (Various Inanimate TFs, Various Cameos)

“--so if nyou don’t want to die, buy CUMZAC. BUY CUMZAC! BUY CUMZAC! BUY IT TODAY OR DIE! BUY–”

With a brief crackle of static, the TV snaps to a new image: a short, blonde-haired Bakeneko in a tight suit, her arm draped over the side of her convertible saucer as she flies across a dusty desert planet. “Hmm, I wonder what Princess Yuri is going to wear in Wheel of Fates! tonight…?”

She cocks her head in thought, and the image fades, replaced by a shifting montage of Princess Yuri as she twirls across the stage in one outfit after another: tight green dresses, tight pink dresses, tight lilac dress, a maid outfit–

With a crackle, the image changes again:

WE’RE WITH NYOU, declares the disgustingly bold text filling the screen. FOR THE NYEWEST SEASON OF: WHEEL. OF. FAAAAAAAAATES!

The text vanishes, and boobs jiggling, the blonde catgirl in the suit marches towards the camera, waving at the crowd, who appear in intermittent flashes and cuts: their grins wide and full of fangs, their tails flexing in amusement. 

“WHEEL OF FATES IS THE GAME SHOW OF THE SEASON,” booms the announcer, her voice temporarily drowning out the cheers from the crowd (or possibly the SFX artist). On the screen, the blonde in the suit pulls a lever, and with a fresh cheer from the audience, the titular wheel starts to spin, slamming to a stop on ‘VACUUM’. 

The camera snaps to a giant pointer as it fires, then to a dark-haired girl in a tight white top as the beam stretches her neck into a hose and her mouth into a nozzle. With a clunk, she drops, and no sooner has she struck the floor than the camera flicks to the other contestants, standing there and squealing in shock.

Finally, it leaps back to the blonde in the suit as she laughs in amusement. 

“WITH NYOUR HOST: PACHINKO, AND HER BEAUTIFUL ASSISTANT… PRINCESS YURI…!”

The camera jumps to Princess Yuri, standing there and looking slightly baffled by it all. She mutters something to someone offscreen, and with a sudden jerk of energy starts showing off a washing machine. It’s dark gray with a green top. TORNADO-STRENGTH SPIN!

“WATCH YOUR FAVORITE PREY AS THEY BATTLE IT OUT IN A DESPERATE BID TO KEEP THEIR BODIES AND MINDS INTACT!”

A blonde in a pink dress squeals as she fattens into a plump stuffed pig. 

“ONLY ONE THING IS GUARANTEED: THE WHEEL IS GOING TO SPIN!”

A pink-haired girl twists into a lewd pose and freezes on the spot, her skin hardening into stone. A girl with a dragon’s horns and tail moans as she swirls into an ice cream sundae.

“AND SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET ZAPPED!”

A girl with twintails and a red sweater bloats into a particularly cushy armchair.

“NVM, THAT’S TWO THINGS. TWO THINGS ARE GUARANTEED: THE WHEEL, THE ZAPPING, AND THE INCREDIBLE PRIZES.”

Princess Yuri helps Pachinko fit a tight red condom.

“AND THE COOL TRAPS, I GUESS. THEY’RE FUN TOO, NYA.”

Yuri gives the camera a nervous thumbs-up.

“WHEEL-OF-FATES! STREAMING LIVE, NYOW, ON HBO!  

“DO NYOU WANT TO SEE NYOUR FAVORITE PREY FACE THE WHEEL? CALL 555-767-3543 TO SUBMIT NYOUR CANDIDATES. (VOTING ENDS AT MIDNIGHT, PLANET PACHINKO. CALLS ARE NYOT FREE. PLEASE USE A LANDLINE. WHEEL-OF-FATE LTD. NYOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY INJURIES OCCURRING DURING SUBMISSION.) 

The TV snaps off with a final crackle of static. 

***

“Spin the Wheel! Spin the Wheel! Spin the Wheel! Spin the Wheel!” 

As the crowd’s chant rolled down from the stands, Zentreya shivered behind her podium, wondering what the hell they were planning to do to her. 

“Here we go!” cried the blonde with the mic who’d introduced herself as Pachinko. “Let’s Spin! The! Wheel!” 

With a final cheer from the crowd, the giant yellow rod on the ceiling snapped to face her, and the strange roulette wheel underneath it started to spin with an irritating clickclickclick…

As it picked up speed, Zentreya gripped her stand and bit her lip. Should she run? Fight? Try to dodge? Or…?

Clickclickclick… clickclick… click. “BAD END: STAPLER,” boomed the speakers.

Zentreya blinked. “E-eh?” What did it mean? What were they planning to do to her? 

“A stapler, huh? That’s one of our more mundane results, nya. Well, I’m sure we’ll find a use for it. There’s always more paperwork, after all!” The crowd laughed at this incredibly lame joke–Zentreya could only stare, wondering what the hell was even happening. 

High above, the giant rod started to glow, throwing off sparks of bright pink light as it took aim at her. She bit her lip, still unsure what to do, and at last, just before it fired, decided she had to make a break for it. Screaming, she ran from the stage. 

It made no difference. With a crack, the rod fired, and into her back slammed a bolt of pink lightning, like the wrath of femboy Zeus. Zentreya screamed as it slammed into her, wrenching her off the ground and incinerating her clothing in a flash of bubbly fire. 

Exposing and glinting, her nude body promptly folded in half, her teeth stretching from her mouth and hardening into two harsh metal points as they slammed into the flat wedge of plastic that had formerly been her feet. As she screamed and squirmed, fighting to resist the change, her arms melded into her sides and her legs fused together, while her head formed a cuboid with her neck and the rest of her upper half as her skin hardened into dark, blood-red plastic. 

Finally, with a zzzip, the lights snapped off. Falling from the air, Zentreya struck the ground with a clunk and lay there silent and unmoving, struggling to rise or make a sound or, indeed, do anything. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t move. 

Skipping over, Pachinko snapped her up and clicked her, making her scream as her mouth wrapped around what had formerly been her toes. When they pulled back, she spat something out: it looked a lot like an ordinary staple. 

“Nyou know, I’ve always said vtubers nyeed to get a real job,” said the catgirl, smugly.