The Pre-Med Student (Also, the Best Friend)

Kevin McCallister

Kevin is staring at the bathroom mirror, regretting his life choices. He joined the campus militia, purely due to peer pressure. The drill instructor for his pre-med militia squad, a MASH unit veteran with... opinions, insisted that the squad take Kevin out drinking for his 21st birthday. So, he’s at this honky-tonk bar, purely due to peer pressure. Then one of the “mag hag” squads, interested in snagging a future doctor for a husband, insisted on joining in with the fun. So, he just finished doing a line dance with a (frankly objectively unattractive) girl, purely due to peer pressure.

He just wanted to stay home tonight. Study for the MCAT a little. Maybe watch an episode or two of some anime. Chat with Mona over Strife to get her to try college for real again. Not… this.

“Hey, ‘Abode Solo,’ c’mon. We got birthday shots for ya!”

Kevin shudders. His parents really, really did not think through the implications of naming their son after the screaming kid from those Christmastide movies. Doesn’t help that he’s a short but lanky towheaded blonde guy. The dumb cowboy outfit Sarge insisted he wear does nothing to help either. He sighs, splashes some water on his face, then shouts back, “On my way, Drill Sergeant!”

Kevin marches himself back to the table. The barkeep here agrees with Sarge’s assessment that militia members should be allowed to drink, no matter how many citizenship points they have earned, so he turns a blind eye to the illegal drinking. The barkeep also agrees with Sarge that real men drink cheap whiskey and cheaper beer, so that is what awaits Kevin. The mag hag dancing partner pats the seat beside her; Kevin sighs and sidles up to the high top stool.

“To Kevin! May his shot glass never be empty and may his dick never be dry!”

The whole squad shouts, “Hooah!” Kevin’s shout is much less enthusiastic. He shoots the foul whiskey. It tastes like burning going down. When he coughs, the veterans in the squad all laugh. Kevin is at least allowed to nurse the cheap beer, which tastes like the whiskey, severely watered down. Frankly, it’s appreciated, comparatively.

“Ooh, Kev-ey, I looove this song! Let’s dance.”

Kevin feels himself yanked to the dance floor for another line dance with the hag. He goes through the motions. At least he’s behind Hugo in the dance; Hugo has a very fine ass. Not that he would pursue Hugo (or anyone really). The pressures of this world are just too great.

“You know, Kev-ey, that you’re supposed to be looking at me.” the hag nags.

Kevin sighs. What do the guys do when one of the mag hags is engaging in unwanted flirting? Brad, an infantry vet that is using the GI Bill to pay for his pre-med degree, pulls Kevin off the line dance before he could figure it out.

“Hey, bro, I get that this ain’t your scene. Sarge has passed out drunk and my wife has texted me a half dozen times wanting me home. You need a ride back to the dorms?”

“Gladly.”

Kevin gets in the passenger seat, ready for this night to be over. Brad drives and the lights of the bar streak in the reflection of the windows. The road is quieter. Darker. And Kevin starts to drift asleep.

The Broadcast (Kevin’s Dreamscape)

Kevin is sitting before the vanity, finalizing his make-up for his wedding. Sitting beside him is his best friend and future sister-wife, Mona, who has really recovered since her time in Canada. Tall, swarthy, and handsome, Chad Thundercock, the love of their lives, wooed them both. And now, they are about to be married to him.

Mona looks radiant, in a white dress that shows off her cleavage. Kevin’s dress is more sleek, highlighting his shaven legs more. While he wants to look pretty for his future husband, he wants to not hide behind fake breasts or anything like that. He’s comfortable in his skin.

Mona’s mom opens the dressing room door and prompts them to get ready. Mona happily takes her mother’s arm and starts to head to the chapel. Then, Kevin’s dream falls apart. A woman he has never seen before, would never have imagined, walks in to escort Kevin to the altar. Kevin’s eyes narrow. He wills the dream to stop. “Who are you?”

The woman smiles, giggling, “Oh, a lucid dreamer. Interesting. Well, Kevin, care to make the dream more comfortable for this conversation?”

Kevin tries to **** the woman out. His efforts fall flat. Whoever she is, however she is doing this, is beyond all of those dream manipulation techniques I have learned. “Answer my question. Who are you?”

“Tyalangan. At your service.”

That’s a stupid name. “How are you doing this?”

“Simple. Magic. I have a spell that lets me invade the dreams of another. I’m here to talk with you, Kevin.”

Kevin considers this. When the impossible is the only explanation that makes sense... Kevin manifests a couple of sitting room chairs into the dream. This Tyalangan saunters over to one of the chairs and takes a seat. Kevin takes the other, rigid, alert. He snaps, “Well, you’re here to talk. Talk.”

Tyalangan nods her head towards the frozen image of Mona. “You’re friend over there made a very, very dangerous decision. The fate of your world will be in her hands. I’m here to see if you want to help her out.”

“Wait. What?”

The tale this Tyalangan twirls is a terror. A Lovecraftian horror is about to claw its way out of the core of the Earth, consume the minds and souls of every living thing on Earth, then go forth and threaten more people out in the wider multiverse. The details makes his skin crawl. If Kevin wasn’t dreaming, he would have passed out.

“How long do we have?”

“By your world’s standards, about 3 weeks. So, the day you’ve signed up to take the MCAT.”

“How do you...”

“Simple. Research.”

“Not magic?”

“I mean, magic was definitely used during the research phase, but we could have gotten everything through mundane means if we were **** to.”

“And you are going to send Mona to fight a cataclysm in a couple of weeks?”

“I’m pulling her away to a dimension that moves a lot quicker than yours. I’m going to be training her in a circuitous way. She should be ready to win by the time she returns. The question is: will she be able to handle it without her reasonable best friend around?”

“Circuitous?”

“Training via interdimensional game show.”

“That’s a thing?”

This Tyalangan woman just smirks and stares. I am going to regret this, aren’t I? Kevin finally answers, “Assuming I can’t get her out of it, I want to help her. Let’s go.”

Kevin

Kevin finds himself at the entrance of a throne room. He quickly assesses the situation and doesn’t like what he sees. Mona, stunned and upset, is sitting on a throne in her sleepwear, with Tyalangan and some basically naked bunny-girl on one side and Tegan, the psycho-bitch, still recognizable after all those years, frozen stiff on the other.

Kevin storms the room and wraps his friend up in a hug.

Kevin: +1 XP (Hugs for Mistress!)

Ignoring the ding for now, he mutters, “You dummy, what did you sucker us into?”

Mona pleads, “Hey, Tyalangan, why did you bring Kevin, of all people, here? He’s not going to want to…”

Does Mona know?

The blue woman interjects, “I have taken Kevin’s preferences into account. Trust me when I say he could win the whole game while remaining platonic with you. I am not going to **** anyone to do anything like that. But I’d rather explain the rules to everyone at the same time. So, patience, young Mistress.”

Kevin starts to speak, only to find his voice…stop. The woman answers the objection that Kevin was about to make in his head. He feels her words sear into his brain, “Yes, Kevin, I am withholding information. I only gave out enough details to get some buy-in from everyone without turning them into a quivering mess. While true informed consent would be nice, it’s unreasonable, given both the cosmic scale time restraint and the sheer amount of information that I would have to divulge. So, none of you will get the full picture until you are ready. Finally, yes, as the most stable contestant so far, you got the closest to the full explanation. Some of what I shared with you will break Mona right now. And breaking the Mistress is ill-advised.”

Kevin chews on that, so he almost misses Mona’s mumbling retort, “But this is a smut show?”

What?

Tegan, seething in silence until now, also barks, “WHAT?”

The bunny-girl quips, “What?” Then, after a pause, adds, “I just wanted to feel included.”

The blue woman looks more than a little frustrated as she pinches the bridge of her nose and grits out, “Just because this is a smut show doesn’t necessarily mean that every relationship has to involve sex. We can talk about it during the rules. Can we just accept that I am going to accommodate Kevin’s desires and move on?”

Tegan just glares, but stays silent. Kevin keeps holding his friend, at least until the blue woman puts a hand on his shoulder. He reluctantly lets go and steps back. Mona at least looks less upset.

The woman looks at him, honestly a little bit apologetic, “Time to introduce yourself to the audience. You want me to **** it out or are you going to be strong enough to answer everything?”

Kevin feels the questions entering his mind. He starts to address them. “I’ll try. Hi, I’m Kevin. I’m a pre-med student at Arizona State University and I just turned 21. Mona is my best friend and I am here to support her through this nightmare she found herself in. I’m 5 foot 7 inches and, oh shit, I really don’t want to answer the rest of these questions. Can we skip them?”

“The embarrassing sex questions are a part of the process.”

“You going to answer them, skank?” Tegan snarls.

“Sure, if everyone likes. Kevin, I can compel the rest of the answers out of you, if you can’t bring yourself to…”

“I’ll do it. Just not happy about it. I’m around three inches erect, but I haven’t exactly pulled out a ruler to get an exact measurement. The closest thing to sex I have gotten to is some gooning sessions, a few in person, most over Strife. And I am gay. I really, really hope that this isn’t going to air back home, since I don’t want to exactly be out. Mona, you...”

This time, Mona, leaving her throne, wraps Kevin in a hug. “I am so proud of you, Kevin.”

“I guess you knew?”

“Some of your porn selections over Strife weren’t exactly subtle, bud.”

“Oh. Well, I feel dumb. I’m just going to go stand over there and rethink some life choices.” Breaking out of the hug, Kevin meekly stands by Tegan.

Tyalangan addresses empty air, “And there is Kevin! Two contestants down. Four more to go. So, puberty hit Mona hard, awakening feeling beyond mere playground romance. First crushes after those hormones hit are interesting and this one will hopefully be no exception. So, third up is the babysitter, Belinda Jorgensen!”

Why would that lunatic be brought into this mess?