ATannie-Life with Anon-Chapter 2/2

>Friday was range day
>this has always been hoe things have worked
>sadly, today was a case of having to work a cockload of overtime
>while it was a pretty high-paying job (otherwise, costs for 14.5 would have killed you) but neither the working hours and conditions were very good
>but you could get most of the funs you wanted, you could feed them (and the PTRS, actual food aswell, even if she made it all herself), and youwere even looking for a new car
>So, sometimes, you just couldn't go to the range on fridays
>so, at after 9PM on a friday you walk down to the the old little car, and listen as the engine purrs to life
>on the way home, you decide this is a good a day as any to get blackout drunk in front of the computer alone
>but as you approach home, there is some noises
>loud music, but it sounds like electronic rock
>strange, considering everyone here is either old as fuck or has small children
>hang on a second
>that's your house
>someone is having a party in your house
>You decide it's time to operate
>the only one who has keys to you house is Annie
>And she's not really the party type
>even if she does like to drink a little
>You park your car a few blocks down, shove the 1911 down the front of your pants and walk up to your house
>you enter through the garage, pistol drawn
>what you see is a scene of almost devastation and very strange things
>first of all, there is absolutely zero gun lube left in the garage
>all eight cans are gone
>The kitchen table is littered with ammo, all different sorts
>for about every chair there is, a heap of playing cards lies on the table
>there is also way to many shot glasses to make you feel comfortable, and... is that the dust cover for your WASR?
>alright, lets just assume someone played drinking poker, what the fuck are the chocolate cereal for?
>You make your way to the living room
>no one is here either, but...
>your entire coffe table is completely covered in oil
>there is a fuckload of gun parts on your table, and most of it seems to be from the AR. Handguard, stock, carry handle, even the fucking muzzle brake
>if someone has taken your AR...
>but it was locked in the safe?
>there is more small glasses on the table
>and two empty glass bottles
>that's definitely vodka
>you head over to the stereo, and turn it off
>just as you are about to leave your living room, something catches your eye
>those are two of your rifles
>and they don't have any stocks, either off them and they are drenched in oil
>you practically have to pour oil out of the SKS' magazine
>next to the SKS is your Kar 98
>just as disassembled, and just as covered in oil
>wtf is going on
>you leave the rifles there for the time being
>the glock 19 lies in the bathtub, and the slide looks like it was put there by a 5 year old. There are also a lot of 9mm rounds around it
>in your bedroom, you wasr and the AR lies in the middle of it, completely disassembled
>including the fucking trigger groups
>in the guest room, Your old mossberg (once again lacking stock, grip and handguard) lies on that bed, with the Mini-14s barrel as if it was trying to force it's way into the mossies tube mag. The furniture to any of the weapons is no where to be seen
>lastly, and with a heavy sigh of relief, you find your beloved PRTS, and the seemingly tiny 10/22 next to it
>the .22 and the big AT rifle is like most things here disassembled

>either, Annie has gotten very drunk, and taken a lot of time to just fuck your shit up
>she wouldn't do that, she is so careful with doing anything that may hurt me
>maybe the other guns are girls as well?
>actually, if they are, this very fucked up situation would make "sense"
>an idea forms in your head
>you get all the weapons, ever single one of them
>rifles, and all functioning parts of all weapons go in one big pile on your bed, fuck it if you have to rebuild the thing because of all oil, this is going to be fun
>furniture is removed from all rifles and placed in the living room, in boxes. You decide that if you are being fucked with, you can fuck back
>now, there is just the cleaning up part left
>just as the first rays of sunlight bathe your now clean floor, the rest of the little house is cleaned up aswell
>all nighter cleaning. living the high life
>but no sleep now, so you prepare you home made redbull-vodka drink
>now is the time for interrogation
>Now, the only thing you have to is wait
>You turn on your TV, sitting in your now-clean couch, resting your feet on your now-clean coffee table
>most of what I shown on a Saturday morning before 8AM is shit
>but you finally find a channel showing some rally cars. Fuck yes
>you spend at least an hour listening to modified French shitboxes tearing about in a forest
>and then, you hear voices
>many voices
>also a lot of pained moaning
>and much wondering where their clothes are
>you feel a little bad for enjoying this
>the bathroom is working overtime, toilet and sink used heavily
>dont make me clean it again...
>you have zoned out all rally car noises and are now focused entirely in their attempts to find suitable things to cover themselves up with
>they must have figured it out by now

>"if you guys need anything, I'm right here"

>the bait is set
>Annie comes out of your bedroom
>she is wearing what looks very much like a oil covered bed sheet
>damnit don't stare, she's ashamed of herself enough
>"good morning!"
A-anon... I am so sorry...
>shame radiates off her reddened face
>"don't say that. I mean, judging the the chocolate cereal I think you had fun"
>she looks around
Y-you have been c-cleaning?
>"I can take care of my house you know. I see you've made some friends, think you can introduce me to them sometime"
>you point at the boxes
>" I'm not quite sure how this works. Help each other out and get back here, okay?"
Y-yes anon
>she picks up the boxes from the table and returns to your room
>after just a few minutes they all return
>all 8 of them
>8...?
>huh, well, let's see where this is going
>they are all looking at the floor
>they are ashamed
>quickly, you realize you're not going to be able to do this for very long, since you feel really bad for them already
>one of them isn't wearing anything on her chest, but is rather hugging a pillow
>auburn-orange hair, car ears, tail?
>most likely the WASR
sorry, i could find my handguard
>"ehh, well, you could just borrow a shirt from me, no problem"
>smaller girl next to her, pretty much a carbon-copy of Annie, but scaled down to 75%. Same black hair, blue eyes and general body shape. Has to be SKS, right?

>"augh, i was gonna yell at you but that feels wrong now. Just tell me what happened, alright?"
>more shy faces looking towards the floor
well, we were not going to the range...
>SKS was the first to break the silence, followed by mossie
I suggested we could play cards, Annie wanted to have a drink, and you, YOU-
>she points at the girl you guess is your AR, who gets a bit scared
nonononono, please dont go there
>the very small girl with a very boyish figure is next
i wanted to listen to music
>annie steps in
so we kinda... did all of it
>"you know what, let's just stop there. How about we all forget what happened last night, as long as you invite me along for the next time you do something like this, because it sounds like a blast to me