Blue Changelings, The Great Tickle War

Blue Changelings, The Great Tickle War
>Music plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sW2cc1Z6tZs
>"Alright you buncha hatchlings, FORM UP!" Commander Daddy shouts.
>You and the other changelings of your battle group, all of them odd numbers, form up in columns.
>Warrior bugs in front, followed by drones, then honeybugs, and caretakers in back.
>You nervously take your spot in the ranks, trembling a bit at the awe-inspiring sight of Daddy in full combat gear.
>Everyone's been awaiting this day...
>You knew it would come.
>The other buggies, the older ones who've lived near a decade with daddy, told you he would transform like this.
>From eternal caregiver to taskmaster in an instance.
>You feel a frozen shiver crawl it's way up your shell.
>Soon everyone is in formation, and Supreme Commander Daddy begins to slowly walk in front of the column.
>Inspecting uniforms, speaking with officer bugs...
>Rubbing smudges off of your cheeks in front of everybuggy STOPITDADDYYOUREMBARRASSINGME~~~~!
>Finally, he comes to a stand still.
>The assembled bugs are hushed.
>"Changelings..." he begins, eyes towards the ground. "Are no strangers to struggle."
>You hear the bug next to you gulp audibly.
>"P-please Daddy, don't make us go out there...!" you hear her murmur.
>She's as afraid as you are.
>"Before there was the hive, there was struggle..." Commander Daddy continues, as he begins to pace through the ranks.
>"Everybuggy was forced to go out into a hostile world..." he stops, clenching his grabber into a fist. "to do what was BEST for their leader."
>He turns around suddenly, making a dramatic, sweeping gesture. "Are you willing to struggle for your leader?!" he shouts.
>"YESSIR, DADDY SIR!" Everyone chants in unison.
>Except for you, anyways.
>His gaze meets yours, just for a moment, and you hide your face in shame.
>"SOME OF YOU--" you hear him begin walking towards you.
>Peeking up for a moment, you can see his eyes boring a hole through your shell.
>"ARE NOT AS COMMITTED AS OTHERS!" He shouts, lording his tall, imposing body over your own.
>Though the buggies standing around you do not move, you can feel all eyes on you.
>"But ALL have a reason to struggle!" Commander Daddy gets down on one knee.
>Even then, his eyes still rest at a level higher than your own.
>"So I ask you, 2286, WHY ARE YOU HERE!?"
>Oh buck...
"I...I wanna...I-I---" you sputter.
>"WHY ARE YOU HERE SOLDIER?!?" He shouts, spittle flying every which way.
"I'M HERE BECAUSE MOMMY IS A SORE WINNER~!" You wail, covering your face with your hooves in terror.
>"DAMN RIGHT!" He shouts, standing tall, raising a fist into the air.
>The other bugs around you begin to cheer as Daddy makes his way to the front ranks.
>"Every year, on my birthday, bugwife asks me, 'Honey, do you want to do something special for your birthday?'"
>"And every year, I say 'let's play a family game of tickle war!'" Daddy continues, as the chatter amongst the ranks gets louder.
>You can see Daddy shaking his head as he raises his fist again.
>"And every FUCKING YEAR--!" He slams his fist down hard on the table, the sound resounding through the assembly hall.
>There's utter silence amongst the ranks now.
>"...your mother totally smokes our asses."
>Many of the older buggies bow their heads in remorse.
>Pointing towards the far wall, you can see a lone, solitary decoration.
>A chalkboard.
>Inscriped upon its face are many, many tallies.
>All of them on MOMMY'S side.
>Daddy's side of the board, however, is completely barren.
>A grim reminder of Team D's countless defeats.
>Daddy takes a several deep breathes, gripping the war table tight to steady himself.
>"But not this year." He says. Sincerely, authoritatively...
>Strongly.
>"THIS is the year, where we correct the course of the family game nights!" he says, shaking his fist in the air.
>The ranks begin to cheer, chanting Daddy's name as the hall begins to echo.
>"THIS IS the year, where Team D actually wins for once!"
>You can feel your heart swelling with pride.
>"THIS IS THE YEAR, where we get to RUB OUT VICTORY INTO MOMMY'S FACE!"
>"Buggies of Team D, go forth! AND BRING BACK THE HOPE OF THE HIVE!"
>The halls roars with enthusiasm as Team D, YOUR team, begins making preparations...
>For war.
>TICKLE WAR!
--------
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>All is quiet during the ceremonial coin toss.
>On the other side of the dividing line stands Mommy, in her long coat and "Commisar's Hat," surrounded by her finest honor guards.
>Each of whom is armed with only the softest, comfiest of pillows.
>You've got your extra-special blanket tied around your neck.
>Daddy held you above your head and made superhero noises during the walk across the battlefield.
>Feels good, yo.
>Majestic.
>Made you feel like Supermare and everything!
>But this wasn't the time for make believe.
>"Lookin' good, babe. Nice uniform." Mommy says, smirking arrogantly as she hovers a war-pillow up towards her cheek.
>"Gonna look even better on the floor tonight when you're done getting FUCKED."
>"Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" All her changelings mock in unison.
>Daddy, for his part, maintains his grim facade.
>Betraying nothing.
>A neutral buggy comes between the two of them, this year's chosen referee.
>"Alright you two, shake appendages! I want a good, clean, and safe game of tickle war!" she says, all the while giving Mommy the stink eye.
>Mommy lazily offers her hoof, which Daddy proceeds to shake firmly.
>"But of course!" she starts, not arrogantly avoiding eye contact with Daddy. "After all, winning isn't important, is it dearest~?"
>Daddy says nothing. He breaks the handshake, as both sides move to their respective ends of the Great Hall.
>Looking around, it seems as if the entire hive is either taking part, or spectating.
>Are...are those bleechers? Is that COTTON CANDY?
>You want some...
>Mommy does likewise, as the referee, sweat trailing down her shell, nervously raises a flag.
>"T-three, two, o-one...!"
>She looks like she's about to spew honey everywhere.
>Daddy, for his part, looks as stonefaced as ever.
>"TICKLE WAR~~!" She screams, dropping the flag as she bolts for the out-of-bounds zone.
>Immediately, it begins.
>Daddy silently raises his right hand, then, striking a fantasticly awesome pose, points his finger at the opposing team.
>Your assault begins with a ranged barrage, just as you all practiced.
>Hundreds of throw pillows are launched towards the enemy lines, as a roar from your lines heralds the beginning of the game.
>The sheer might, the awesome display of comfiness leaves you breathless for a moment.
>However, Mommy had prepared for this.
>Her front rank raises a shield of quilts and blankeys, deflecting much of your initial assault.
>On the other side, you can see Mommy's smug face, her tongue stuck out at Daddy in defiance.
>This causes him to bristle, fis facade of control breaking.
>"2286, give the command." he says.
>You knod solemnly.
>You turn towards the buggy next to you.
"886, give the command."
>"GET EM!" She shouts.
>And all heck breaks loose.
>A screen of pillows and stuffed animals covers their advance.
>Several dozen of Mommy's front line are overcome by sleepiness, and lie down to take naps.
>Such is the horror of tickle war.
>Soon the air is filled with the sounds of pillow-battle, as an all out floof-brawl breaks out in the center lines.
>Changeling against changeling, many of them broodmates, pitted against one another in am epic struggle to not-have-to-hear-the-other-team-brag-for-the-rest-of-the-FUCKING-year.
>Though your vanguard fight bravely, the line begins to waver.
>Buggies are getting sleepy.
>"886, committ the first column of reserves to the left flank. 2286..." Daddy looks down at you, your eyes meeting.
>"Call in the airstrike."
>"Yessir Commander Daddy!" You say, giving him a salute. "Lemme call them on the hivemi--"
>Daddy cuts you off right there.
>"Baby, please, PLEASE just do the thing." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Just...okay? It'll make Daddy super happy."
>You shrug, and proceed to grab the tin-can tied to a string before you.
"*CRRR!* Strike Force One, this is Motherbase. You are cleared for takeoff!"
>Daddy groans, his shoulders slumping as he facepalms. "Do it right, please."
>You roll your eyes.
"...over. *CRRR!*"
>You give Daddy a look. "What's the point of making the sound agai--"
>"*CRRR!* Motherbase, this is Strike Force One! Carpet bombing is a go! *CRRR!*" Your "radio" responds.
>A wing of flyers soon buzzes overhead, flying in perfect formation as they carry their shared payload towards the enemy ranks.
>A single, massive, cotton sheet.
>For the first time today, Daddy cracks a grin as he places his hands on triumphantly on his hip. He takes inhales deeply.
>"I love the smell of COTTON in the morning!"
"It's 8 at night!" Your subordinate pipes in.
>"OH MY GOD 886, lemme have my fun, please!" Daddy retorts irritably.
>"If you're gonna be mean like last year, I'm not playing anymore!" 886 responds with a huff, wandering off.
>At this, Daddy's face twists in indignation. "And where do you think YOU are going soldier?!"
>"TO GET COTTON CANDY!"
>*CRRR!* Motherbase, come in! This is Strike Force One!"
>You grab your radio-thingy and hold it up to your ear.
>You're still getting reception? That's a really long string.
>"Squad leader is hit, and she didn't let go of the sheet! WE ARE GOING DOWN! REPEAT, THE WHOLE WING IS GOING DOWN!"
>"...*CRRR!*"
>You and Daddy watch in horror as your own sheet descends right on top of your reserves.
>"They've got cushions and blankets! BRACE FOR NAPPIES!!" is that last thing you hear.
>And then...
>Snoring.
>Supreme Commander Daddy, a broken husk of a Hugh-Mahn, collapses onto his knees as Team D begins to break.