Steam hissed in the air and coiled around the locker room's dull fluorescent lights and gave the entire place the ambiance of a sauna. The sound of showers running endlessly in the distance only added to the dreamy haze. It wasn’t exactly what Donovan the Raccoon had in mind when he agreed to this side gig, but rent was due and the ad said “quick cash, no full nudity.”
So there he was, standing awkwardly in the corner of a high-end studio locker room, in nothing but a pair of bright white Power Rangers briefs and their adorable red elastic. He tugged a bit at the waistband to clear out a minor wedgie.
"Ugh… why did I say yes to this?" he grumbled, crouching behind a bench and fumbling with a coil of rope. "Modeling in my underwear? Embarrassing, sure. Humiliating even. But modeling next to that guy?"
The locker room echoed with a soft metallic clink.
That guy was Axel.
Axel the dragon boy.
The dommy bully himself.
Donovan glanced across the misty room, and sure enough, there he was, lounging against a set of lockers like he owned the building. Axel's lean, black-and-red-scaled body was relaxed and coated with a smug presentation. His punkish jeans hung nearby, draped over a hook, but he didn’t seem remotely ashamed of standing around in a pair of baby-pink Dora the Explorer briefs. Not yet at least. He stretched dramatically, wings flexing, claws clicking together, the Dora logo peeking out from behind his waistband with every motion.
"Yo, raccoon-boy," Axel called across the room, voice syrupy with sarcasm. "You done hiding behind that bench like you’re in a cartoon about shy kids who get picked last in dodgeball?" Donovan glared, face flush. “I’m prepping. Unlike you, I don’t just show up looking like an anime punk who wandered into a preschool aisle.”
Axel smirked and cracked his knuckles. “You say that like it’s not working for me…” It was something he seemed to mutter a bit. Kind of like he was embarrassed which yeah he should be. The photo shoot was supposed to be a fun, quirky, “playful youth” campaign. It was a mix of edgy and nostalgic. Cartoon briefs, bright lighting, exaggerated poses. Something for a new brand aimed at teen and young adult audiences. “UndyWorld.” Gross name. Good paycheck.
Both Axel and Donovan had auditioned separately. But fate, cruel as can be, decided to pair them up for the first promotional shoot.
From the moment Donovan stepped into the prep room, he knew it was going to be trouble. Axel had been there first, shirt off, boots lazily kicked aside, chatting with the stylist like he owned the place. And from the first minute, the teasing started.
“Nice briefs, raccoon. Power Rangers, huh? Which one are you supposed to be? The one who cries when someone takes his crayons?”
Donovan bit his tongue. He needed the job. He needed the cash.
But now, as Axel hummed tunelessly in the foggy locker room, Donovan’s patience had evaporated. He was feeling the steam rising in his head the more Axel talked and now it was very much like the steam clouding up the space. Overwhelming.
This was his moment. His revenge.
The rope trap was simple. An old-school snare across the misted floor, meant to snag Axel by the ankles and hang him upside down, cartoon-style. All he needed to do here, really, was keep the shower going at its highest and hottest setting. It wouldn’t obscure the vision of the entire place, just enough for you not to really see him while he’s slunk so low to the ground.
He was setting up a trap right before Axel’s eyes and he couldn’t see it. It was so funny.
“Let’s see you flex your Dora undies while dangling like a dork,” Donovan whispered, eyes gleaming. He imagined it now: Axel, helplessly flailing, pink briefs riding up as he dangled like a dragon-shaped fish on a line, the photographers cackling, Donovan standing triumphant…
Donovan’s turn for the shoot was almost here. He was dressed for it now. Obviously, the shoot didn’t call for much in terms of clothes so it was pretty easy.
He walked his way towards the edge of the locker room and waited for Axel to come walking by. After all, that guy was going on shortly after him so he’d have to make his way through here eventually.
He didn’t notice the trap had gone silent.
Snap.
The rope went slack.
Donovan peeked around the corner. Axel stood in the fog, completely upright, one foot resting on the now-limp snare line which had been cleanly sliced.
Donovan blinked. “What…?”
The dragon boy’s claws twitched as he smirked, stepping forward. “You know, it’s cute that you thought I’d fall for that.”
The raccoon took a shaky step back. “That… that rope was thick! How did—?”
Axel lifted one foot. A sharp black claw extended from the toe, gleaming. “Dragon talons, genius. These babies slice rope like warm cheese.”
Donovan blinked as Axel posed triumphantly with his hands on his hips.
Axel was walking towards the rope and got lucky because his dragon talons cut it. That’s what happened.
Donovan’s expression flattened into panic. “Well, it’s not like I—uh—I mean, you weren’t supposed to—this was all theoretical, see—"
From the hallway: “Donovan? You’re up next for the shoot!”
Donovan froze. “O-oh. Right. My… my big debut.”
He tried to straighten himself, walk with dignity, but his confidence was crumbling. The rope was ruined. The prank failed.
Now the dragon boy had that gleam in his eye.
“Y’know,” Axel murmured, stepping closer, “you really shouldn’t leave yourself open when you’re about to be the star of the show.”
“What are you—AHH—!”
With a single yank, Axel grabbed the waistband of Donovan’s Power Rangers briefs and yanked. High. So high, the elastic screamed right as he did. So high, the red helmet of the Red Ranger peeked out from Donovan’s forehead.
“YOU’RE MIGHTY MORPHIN’ MY UNDERWEAR! KNOCK IT OFF!” Donovan cried as his eyes bulged.
“Gotta complete the look,” Axel said with a grin.
Then came the punches.
First, A right hook to the cheek! Donovan’s eyes wobbled, his mouth blew a raspberry.
“BAP!”
Second, A left jab to the chin. His head spun in a circle. “I ATE UH DUH TUNA!,” he slurred.
Third, An uppercut that popped him into the air slightly, stars and tweetie birds circling his head.
“WHEEEE… DORA, WHY HAVE YOU BETRAYED MEEEE!” Donovan sounded like he was losing his mind. “SEEING STARS! EYES SPARKLY!”
Axel cackled. “Oh, you’re seeing stars alright, Donnie-boy.”
He spun Donovan around by the waistband like a wind-up toy and WHAM—slugged him square in the face with a cartoonishly oversized haymaker.
Donovan’s cheeks puffed. His eyes crossed. His knees wobbled.
“Uhh… pickles… marshmallow… duck police…” he mumbled, eyes spinning as he staggered sideways. Axel grabbed him by the shoulders, cocked his fist again, and POW! right in the kisser. Donovan’s entire body wobbled like gelatin as his jaw bounced open, tongue flopping out.
“Whuh-buh-duhhh…” he muttered. A couple chirping birdies began circling his head in a perfect ring. One even bonked into a star, and both fell with a ping before flapping back up.
Another punch. BOING! Donovan’s legs splayed in midair and he landed flat on his back, limbs twitching. His tail curled up like a scared cat, and his tongue hung out like a silly dog in the summer heat.
“Goo-goo… why’s my spleen singing karaoke…?” he slurred, one eye twitching independently.
Not done yet, Axel hauled the dazed raccoon up again and delivered a rapid combo. A left jab to the cheek, right jab to the forehead, uppercut to the chin. Donovan’s entire body lifted off the ground, spinning like a slow propeller before falling back with a whump onto a bench.
“Get up, champ!” Axel teased, grabbing Donovan’s limp wrist and puppeting him upright.
Donovan blinked slowly, eyes barely aligned. “Hurp… I think I left my brain in my other undiepants! Hurr-duuur…”
“Good to know!” Axel said gleefully, spinning him around and giving the wedgied waistband a final, devastating yank so hard it lifted Donovan off the floor again and practically turned him into a raccoon yo-yo. The briefs, now a monument to overextension, had formed a comical cotton halo around his horns, flapping like a tiny flag of surrender.
Donovan was wheezing, tongue out, little pink hearts dancing around his head now. His head lolled with each breath, arms limp at his sides. Finally, with one big wind-up, Axel shoved the helpless raccoon toward an open locker.
“GOING UP!” he shouted, launching Donovan with a final punch to the backside.
THUD!
Axel snorted, caught the dazed raccoon mid-fall, and shoved him backward into an open locker.
Donovan crumpled inside the locker like a sack of laundry, one foot sticking out, eyes rolling in different directions. His mouth hung open in a big goofy smile. The wedgied Power Rangers briefs remained stretched taut over his head like a cotton crown of defeat.
Only the sound of stars, birds, and maybe a single cartoon ding remained.
Axel flexed his fingers and then gave Donovan a few more rapid punches to the face. Donovan made weird OMMF sounds like a squeaky toy.
SLAM.
The locker door shut with a rattling clang.
In the hallway…
“Where’s Donovan?” the lead producer asked, clipboard in hand.
“Can’t find him,” the assistant replied, looking down the hallway.
The producer shrugged. “Oh well. We’ll just use the other guy.”
Camera lights blazed in the studio. Bright, over-saturated backgrounds filled the set. There were stars, clouds, and a few cartoon logos. A voice behind the lens called out to all those around, “Alright, cue the music! Spotlight on!”
Axel strutted confidently into the center, one hand on his hip, the other raised with a mocking wave. His pink Dora the Explorer briefs clung snugly to his hips, proudly on display. He struck a dramatic pose, chin raised high.
“More sass!” shouted the photographer.
Axel smirked and pointed at the camera like a Saturday morning cartoon villain.
“Perfect!”
He was clearly enjoying himself, though, you could tell by the heavy blush on his face that doing a photo shoot in his Dora briefs didn’t feel the most dignified in the world.
It was a tough call. Was his confidence winning out in the end because he just thought he was so much cooler than he ought to? Or maybe he was just on the high of winning against Donovan.
Theoretically, he did outsmart him after all. Right? Who could have predicted his talons would cut that rope. Yeah. It was a move so ingenious that even he was unable to see his brilliant plan before it even happened.
Yeah, he really was the best. So smart. —
Back in the locker…
Donovan groaned. The Power Rangers briefs were still over his head, stretched beyond recognition. His tongue lolled out, his legs twitched.
“I’m a burrito made of squirrels…” he mumbled. “Wrapped in salsa… but I dun’t know that too much pink energy is dangerous…”
A droplet of drool slipped from his tongue and plopped against the locker’s side. He devolved into linguistic babbling and eventually drool poured out of his mouth as the shiner in his eyes helped them squint completely closed.
Axel was a dommy bully. He was the kind of guy that was a bully you could bully. It should have been easy to pull one over on him. However, Donovan didn’t foresee his downfall coming at the hands of the universe today.
He really should have though. If there was one universal truth in Donovan the Raccoon’s life it was that the boy just can’t catch a break for trying.
Donovan ended up sleeping the rest of that shoot. He was stuck in there and the longer he remains, oddly, the more derped out he became. Probably just the stink of failure making his mind go even more cuckoo.
Axel ended up on the front of that magazine. Good for him. Maybe he could give Donovan a job next time.
---
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