Try to block the door!

Without thinking, PJs rushed the door, trying to slam it closed to see if he could buy himself some time, hopefully trying to figure out a good wish to get him out of this situation by the time he collided with it.

Unfortunately, the door was opened too fast, and he instead ended up shoulder barging an unsuspecting ponytailed demon. Both Kneesocks and PJs go tumbling back onto the hallway carpet.

Both were stunned as they tumbled on the ground, and it took a minute for PJs to shake himself back to reality, one where it looks like he is pinning Kneesocks on the floor, his hands conveniently at her wrists on either side of her torso, and his legs kneeling between her own, but in a way his feet hooked over her shins, pinning her there too.

PJs was stunned in a different way now, feeling the close proximity of the position that he’s in with her, face almost meeting hers, the scent of mint rushing into his facsimile of a nose, no doubt from whatever hair product she uses, the closeness of her lithe feminine form just centimeters away from his, her cute face even closer than that. PJs felt a shiver of tension from being so close.

Kneesocks herself finally managed to process the situation now, and also stopped a beat, not recognizing the ghost on top of her, but looking at his expression of wide-eyed blushing made her uncomfortably aware of the position the ghost had pinned her in such an…intimate stance. Her own face couldn’t help to also flush a bright red, though more out of the embarrassment of being in such a situation, and how humiliated she felt.

PJs seems to have caught on to this feeling, and stuttered as he saw her brow furrow in anger.

“Ahh!” PJs said, stumbling over and releasing her from his impromptu pin, trying to recover his composure as he said almost in reflex, “I wish you’d act like I wasn’t here!”

All of a sudden, just as Kneesocks was about to reach down for her namesake, she suddenly stopped, visibly confused as she stared down at her hand. She was about to look back up at the now green-radiating ghost, putting two and two together that maybe this intruder was in fact the cause for the earlier mess, until she saw Scanty approach her and ask, “Are you okay? It looked like you just flopped over there.”

Kneesocks was about to point and call out the ghost that was braced against the wall next to the door, but all that came out was, “It’s fine, I think the door just got jammed on the carpet and sprung back into me or something.” As her body went on autopilot to stand back up and brush herself down as if there was nothing wrong.

That is, until she saw the state of her sister. “Hell’s teeth! Scanty, what happened to you?!” Kneesocks shouted, surprised at the now ridiculously sized tits her sister was now flaunting around, bouncing up and down for a few seconds as she went from leaning forward to standing back upright, a wobbling sound lightly hitting her ears as they jiggled.

Following her sister’s line of sight, Scanty was puzzled why she was looking at her chest as if they were the most unusual thing in the world right now. And unfortunately, having someone looking at them was getting her really hot under the collar.

“Kneesocks, you know how much I’m…self-conscious about my breasts…” She said, while a whisper of a wish from next to her sounded out with, “I wish you could only call your boobs a humiliating nickname.”

“And besides, you’re not one to look at my jumblejugs often, why now?” She said, not even flinching at her own words.

Kneesocks pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking hard on how she could possibly communicate about what’s going on without actually saying that the guy’s here. She sighed and appeared to give up, and walked into the room to approach the desk, Scanty following along as she sat back in the chair, chest juggling itself around as she did.

“Look, Scanty, something weird is going on, and it seems to be messing with perceptions, not just actions.”

“What do you mean?” Her chesty sister asked.

“Well for one thing, I know for a fact that you weren’t as chestily gifted, nor having them make such ludicrous noises.”

Scanty sneered, looking down at the crimson masses burgeoning from their fabric prison. She slapped them around for a little while as she responded, “Psh, I wish! I remember my jumblejugs have always humiliated me with their incessant sound effects. Still though, I love how giant my jumblejugs are~”

Kneesocks’ eye twitched, knowing that it wasn’t her natural behaviour, and also seeing the glint of lime green of the ghost slipping behind her. Her face immediately flushed as she felt the hands of said ghost wrap under her arms and grope at her own chest, feeling her up. She heard the bastard whisper behind her as he fondled her chest, “It’s unfortunate you’re not equally as gifted, eh? You think I should give you a big rack like your sister? Or should I go bigger on this decent handful?”

Kneesocks was fuming, but couldn’t act in any way to stop him, lest she’d be acting like he was there. But then, looking at the cameras, she had a clever thought.

She leaned over the desk, as if spotting something on one of the screens. “Hey, did you see that?” She said, relieved that she felt his gropings were no longer jumbling her boobs as her rear bumped his waist, and moving him out of reach.

“What? See what?” Scanty responding, looking over the cameras, not finding anything unusual.

“Oh I see, you’re more proud of that booty of yours, right? Wanna show how tight and toned it is compared to your sisters~ I dig it!” PJs said, squeezing her asscheecks in each of his hands. Kneesocks figured that might happen, and was struggling not to let it get to her as she proceeded to the next stage of her idea.

“There, over by the camera room we’re in, I thought I saw some kind of flicker.” She said, leaning more over, and in turn lifting up one leg to get better balance. She raised her leg up pretty fast, and had the desired effect of hearing a satisfying crunch.

“ARGH! Fuck! Dammit! Right in the boingloings!” She heard the now much higher pitch ghost complain behind her, now at least some steps away.

“Hey, what the hell?” Scanty said, as Kneesocks noticed what she was looking at, “There’s something in-!” But stopped herself, and instead was subtly glancing from the screen to the rest of the room as subtly as she can. “I don’t really see anything, I think there was a lens flare from the light.”

Luckily it seems that PJs didn’t notice, as Kneesocks heard him recover and say, “Agh…Weirdly that…healed up faster than I thought it would. Alright, you know what? Just for that, I wish you had a huge bubblebutt!”

Bwomp! The sound of Kneesocks’ rear end expands, tearing open the skirt in the middle from the mass, easily as big as a couple of bowling balls with widened hips to accommodate.

Kneesocks went bright red in the face, as she felt the thing expand outwards in an instant.

“And I wish that you could only wear tiny pleated skirts and thongs!” He continued to ramble, almost as if in a manic flurry.

And just like that, the torn skirt was no longer an issue, as her ass was now mostly hanging out of the black cheerleader-esque miniskirt with pink pleats, and feeling her former underwear jamming up her ass as it became a black thong, riding high on her hips above the skirt.

“And I wish that…y-you would only be able to speak when shaking a-and sh-shimmying your hips…for the puh-person you’re talking to!” He sputtered, almost sounding raspy and barely able to get the wish out.

That one wasn’t as evident, but Kneesocks felt a weird knot in her throat now, and a sort of weird twisting feeling in her tailbone. No doubt it was to remind her that they’re now connected.

Just as Scanty was about to wheel around after subtly shirking off her undergarments underneath the desk so that she could draw her guns, suddenly…

“And! And, and! And…I…I…Aye aye, Captain slumberville…oop, there I go-” THUMP! Scanty saw from the camera PJs fall to the floor as he stumbled back and into a filing cabinet, and practically radiating a neon green. Kneesocks was allowed to look over to see him collapse, the thumping giving her plausible deniability to see what had fallen over. She saw him again, and was confused. Was he always looking this muscled? She swore he was more lanky in proportions before.

Scanty sighed, and took out a black glass bottle from her jacket pocket, the stopper having a miniature skull design on the top. “Well, time to deal with this mess.” She said, as she popped off the top, and took a big whiff from the eerie black-purple fumes wafting out from it.

–––

As this was happening, in another part of town, down a familiar alleyway…

Stiletto stepped out of the limo, glancing down at the scrap of paper in her hand and back up at the alley. The dirty broken street was relatively empty itself, save for one or two shady people knowing that they should just walk by and not acknowledge the presence of a limo and a rich-looking red-skinned beauty in stylish attire.

Looking down the alley, she saw a shadow drop from above, shuffling furiously around in the darkness. Stiletto was only mildly surprised at this, clicking her tongue as she slipped off her shoes, holding them by the heels in one hand as she walked the rest of the way.

Though one skeevy-looking person in a trenchcoat tried stopping her, a stout runt of a man, asking her, “Eyy, mademoiselle, care to look at what I got under my c-” But the would-be flasher didn’t get to finish before his head was grabbed and smashed into the brickwork of the alley, Stiletto brushing her hand off like she touched something disgusting as she kept walking, leaving the man bleeding on the sidewalk.

The audible crunch was enough to make the shadow in the dark stop its rummaging, and stand up at full height.

“Well now, I expected you to get here eventually, but unfortunately, I was hoping you’d be too late.” Said the shadow, turning around to show the blowing portions of his face, revealing himself as a ghost.

Stiletto flicked her wrist, one of the shoes in that hand flung into the other swiftly, as they both took the form of a pair of silver and black tommy guns, both aimed at the ghost’s direction.

“I could say the same, Gabardine, you had practically a day’s head start on me before I could accept my transfer papers. What delayed you, I wonder?” She asked, clearly not really all that caring for the excuse.

Gabardine merely scowled back as her raked a giant hand from under his coatlike body against the ground. Not threateningly, more of like he was sifting through the concrete and trash, seeing if he could find what he lost.

“If you must know,” He started, “I had to waste another ticket for the Hell Train. I had been rudely interrupted by a pair of angels. I assume you know of them?”

Stiletto slightly lowered her guns a little, nodding as she kept a sharp eye on her target, but also making sure to spot any telltale signs for what he; and in turn she, was looking for. “Yeah, Panty and Stocking. Anarchy Sisters that hang around Daten City like flies on excrement. How they decided to get a hit on you makes me impressed. They must be smarter than my intel said they were.”

“Which would be a shame,” Gabardine replied, tapping the ground with a clawed finger, “Because we both would be out of luck if they happened to find the Stone of Job. No doubt the prize would be in the Big Man in the Sky’s hands already.”

Stiletto actually fully lowered her tommy guns now, wide-eyed as if she just realized something. “Those bitches. They never handed it over, they kept them to themselves!”

Gabardine cocked an eyebrow, or at least made the motion of what could be called an eye.

Stiletto continued, “We had a welcome party for me early in the day, it felt like everything went wrong. Supernaturally wrong, like someone was playing with us from a distance. And the only ones that could possibly mess with Demons directly is…”

The specter also went-wide-eyed, realizing the same thing. “Now wait a second. This is the Stone of Job we’re talking about. The Stone that can warp the world to the holders’ wishes given to Job as an apology of **** and gift for his faith! Such a sacred item wouldn’t be abused like that by a couple of angels, surely!”

“I read their reports, Gab. They’re selfish and rude, I highly doubt it wasn’t them.” Stiletto says, turning her back on the ghost to make her way to the car, “And besides, we were going to, anyway.”

Gabardine pondered a minute as he followed her from a distance, and watched as she stepped into the limo, rolled down the window, and said, “So now it’s a matter of whoever beats the angels and gets the Stone, wins.”

He nods, “So until one of us actually holds it, our contract remains in effect, none of us can hurt each other until it is obtained. However-”

With a sudden swipe of a hand, a black needle shoots out of a finger on the sharp hand, flung into the back tire of the limo. “Sabotage is still on the table. See you at the finish line!”

Gabardine grabs the nearby wall, sinking his mighty claw in it with a mighty crunch, then flings himself away on his arm, flying through the air from his self-toss, and laughing with glee at the aghast demon rival of his.

“Ugh! What cheek!” Stiletto complained, and snapped her fingers, urging the driver to continue regardless as she rolled up the window, the limo now limping along, still at considerable speeds, but not as fast as before.

Meanwhile, down the alley, a portly ghost in a trenchcoat manifests, just as the man in the trenchcoat on the street finally gives up the ghost, hearing every word of just went down.

“Warp the world to the holder’s wishes, eh?” He says, snatching up the keys to his jalopy from his corpse, giving a brief shudder at the realization. But the thought of getting everything he wants excites the newly minted pervert ghost as he walks to his car.

“Let’s hope I can get it before they can! Look out world! Trent Checotay is on his way!” He says, vehicle puttering along pathetically compared to his competition, as the narrator questions why this ghost is even important to mention in the first place.