Bad Beetle Bashing

Your trek through the dense forest is stopped when something almost incomprehensible happens, something that shakes you your very core. There's a buzzing sound just ahead. [if (istaur) {One of your [feet] stamps nervously|Your [if (singleleg) {body freezes|legs lock up}]}]. [if (isgoo) {Your fluids churn nervously|Sweat [if (isfluffy) {prickles your [skinfurscales]|runs down your [neck]}]}]. [if (cor > 50) {[if (hasclaws) {You flare your [claws] in preparation|[if (hashorns) {You ready your [horns] for a charge|A deep loathing starts to bubble up inside of you}]}]|[if (ispregnant) {Your thoughts turn to the vulnerable new life inside you|[if (hp < 100) {[if (canfly) {You consider escaping through the air, given your current condition|[if (haswings) {You really wish your wings worked right about now|You're not in much of a state to resist anything}]}]|[if (tallness > 90) {You crane your neck to see if you can catch a glimpse|[if (isnaked) {You feel more exposed than ever before|[if (thickness > 90) {Your incredible body mass would make it difficult to get out of here quickly|[if (fatigue > 90) {You're a bit too tired to deal with this garbage|A passing breeze ruffles your [hair] and makes your [skinshort] shiver}]}]}]}]}]}]}]. [if (hasknot) {You are a faggot|Something is wrong}].

It's the beetle again.

Your mind races. If you acknowledge her presence, she wins automatically, but if you ignore her, the buzzing will just grow louder. You'll need something to properly shame her, something to make her never show her face around here again. A bingo board? No, something better. Your eyes light up as you alight on an idea that will surely put her in her place.

With steeled resolve, you press on, pushing stray branches out of the way with confidence until you appear in a wide clearing, free of any inhabitants save for the irritant. She sits there in the middle, facing away from you, as brown as mud or something worse. Almost lazily, her head cranes over her shoulder, revealing a disdainful expression.

[say:Oh, Deepwoods, huh? Very original.]

You're not letting her distract you; you grab her by the shoulder, and before she can get out more than a shocked cry, raise a bottle of blue fluid to her lips. Liddellium pours straight down her throat as she struggles in your grasp, and you only let her go when it's been drained to the last drop. The dung beetle staggers away, sputtering, hacking, and sending you nasty glares while she recovers her voice. She hasn't noticed yet, but you can see the first changes in her body.

[say:Fucking Christ, and I thought being forcefed your austistic fetishes was bad,] she gets out in between coughs. When you explain the full extent of her predicament, all four hands find her face. [say:Of course.]

But it gets better. As her body starts to shrink and contort, you tell her how cute she'll be now, how much more suited she is to a childish appearance. Her pretty little body will get her all the attention she wants now; she'd even fit into one of those porno mags, whatever they call them. You know that this is what she really wanted all along. Maybe she'd even like you to pat—

[say:Oh, such tough talk coming from someone who couldn't even finish this for the rat! Or was that coming after the factory? What a fucking failure,] she spouts, her skin almost red with rage. The effect is somewhat lessened by how squeaky her voice has grown. She seems to realize the same thing, her tiny arms crossing over her now flat chest. Her mouth opens as if to follow up, but she just scowls instead.

You're not quite sure what all that meant, but it's clear that her attitude hasn't improved any. Still, you're reasonably satisfied with shaming her like this, and you'd be willing to call things even, if she's still fairly unpleasant. You give her your offer and reach your hand out in the hopes that she'll shake it.

The beetle's eyes narrow. [say:You won't get me, fucker.] With blinding speed, the insect-girl shoots up, the buzzing of her wings causing a cacophony that nearly deafens you. You're far to agonized by the sound to stop her flight, and she races off, right behind the nearest tree, where she plops down and makes an attempt to hide. You wait a few moments, but her repeated glances make it clear that she's just going to sit there and look at you, or something. Weird.

In any case, you leave back towards your camp and the productive ventures ahead of you.