F.or O.pen O.riginal L.aughter

John sat in his living room, sipping on some orange juice. “Aclysia… what was I doing again?” he asked, setting the glass down. “I feel like I was doing something. Then I just… kind of walked home.”

“That is no wonder, Master,” Aclysia’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “I planned for you to come home, just like I planned everything else today.”

“Since when do you plan my day for me?” John asked, wondering what kind of lewdness awaited him.

“Since always,” the weaponized maid answered in an ominous tone. “Perhaps you should watch some TV? I will need another minute.”

“Sure?” John was somewhat confused, but did as suggested. The TV switched on and immediately showed him a press conference, Romulus speaking at the head of it. ‘How the hell did I miss news of this?’ he asked himself.

“Dear humans, I have a very important message for you,” Romulus spoke, thunder crackling behind him. “I am the Horned Rat.” A lightning strike descended on his position and, indeed, the massive emperor was replaced the dark-furred, skull-headed god. He still wore Romulus’ toga. “Waddup?”

“Wow!” “Stunning and brave!” “I can’t believe he just came out as the Horned Rat!” John heard the crowd roar. Confused, to put it mildly, John watched as the camera switched over to the onlookers. They were all smaller versions of the Horned Rat. All of them, every single one, was the Horned Rat.

“You heard it here first folks,” the squeaky sounds under the deep voice of the reporter clued John in before the camera focused back on them. The Horned Rat, wearing the red dress of female news anchor, held a microphone and said. “It turns out that, indeed, everyone in Europe is the Horned Rat. We now switch over to a press conference by Lydia Augusta on this matter.”

The screen flared and, a moment later, showed the Horned Rat sitting in Lydia’s typical outfit, a long coat, shirt and militaristic pants, behind a table. “It is indeed true that I, too, am the Horned Rat.”

“What is going on?” John wanted to know.

“Didn’t you figure out my scheme yet?” the Horned Rat asked from the kitchen, stepping out. Seeing Aclysia’s main uniform on the monstrous, male body was weird beyond description. “It was me, John, it was always me! I, the Horned Rat, have always been everyone!”

“Ya heard him, tiger,” Rave said, suddenly appearing in the room. Rave, who was, in truth, the Horned Rat with cat ears. “Everyone is the Horned Rat. I am the Horned Rat.”

“And I am the Horned Rat,” the grey-armoured Horned Rat added.

““And we are the Horned Rat!”” various elemental Horned Rats squaked.

“Rat, rat!” the air one, in particular echoed.

John wondered why he wasn’t completely taken aback by this. Somehow, this felt merely surprising. “Didn’t you get the memo?” the white-dressed, odd Horned Rat asking, tilting his head quizzically. “We are all the Horned Rat.”

John looked down on his clawed hands. “Oooooh, right!” the Gamer Rat declared. “I need to legally change my name later.”

The TV flickered again, switching to a picture of the genuine Horned Rat. However, there was no picture feed.

“Hello, my dear mes… I am the Horned Rat,” the Horned Rat horned ratted in his horned ratting tone, “is my scheme not fantastic and grand? Humanities time is up, my time is now. You can’t see me right now, but my time is now. Being Richard is franchise, boys I’m shining now. The screen is still hiding me, but my time is now.”

The image was ripped away and revealed and incredibly muscular wrestler, posing with the champion’s belt.

“AND MY NAME IS JOHN CEEEENAAAAAAAA!”

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John shot up in his bed and looked around. “What the actual…” he mumbled and massaged the bridge of his nose. He looked around his bedroom. His computer was right across the room, separated from him by all of the clutter his daily masturbations and gaming lifestyle left behind. “…Does everyone dream so much bullshit when they turn 18?” he asked himself.

It was all a dream.