[attr="class","oznitop"][attr="class","ozni"]

[attr="class","oznimain"]Ozni loved his company’s new tech branch. They were working on some real mad scientist stuff down there. A Pokemon translator with a higher-than-average success rate was just the start. In honor of their hard work, the Adebayo Holdings CEO went so far as to give them their own mascot and business division. But, now, he didn’t think it’d been a good idea to make it Glitch-626.

Suddenly, one Porygon-Z multiplied into twelve. It appeared that bad code attracted bad luck. And they became a lot less cute when one got into the mainframe. Then, one of the interns had left the backdoor open during a smoke break. Now, the little glitches were out wreaking havoc across the business district. Though content to let peons deal with it, Ozni couldn’t ignore something right in front of his face.

Or, at least, his Eeleketross wasn’t about to let him. Especially when he’d made the mess. “Hey!” The CEO shouted as a sparking fin jabbed into his side. “Tross!” Princess murmured irritably as she stared pointedly out the window.

With its cutesy keycard still hanging from its left flipper, a company-owned Porygon-Z zoomed past the cafe window. It stopped to lock eyes with Ozni for a minute. The man winched but quickly turned back to his laptop. “That stuff’s below my paygrade, babe. You know that.” Claws scraped across carbon fiber as the ground type slammed the lid shut. His phone went next. It gestured again to the little nuisance. “Can I have my—” The Eelektross shook her head.

“Fiiiiine.” The man pushed himself away from the table and stomped outside. “After everything, I’ve done for you.” As he did, the normal type zoomed off down the street. Missing his gadgets already, the CEO sped up.

When he found it, the duck-faced bastard was trying to suck the data off someone’s phone.”Oof.” Ozni murmured from behind them. His hand disappeared into a now empty pocket. “I hope you’ve got a backup.”

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[attr="class","oznitop"][attr="class","ozni"]

[attr="class","oznimain"]To go where no man had gone before! Outer space! That saying was way less cool when you were one of a dozen passengers on the shuttle. It made him miss The Border. That stuff came with body switching, ghoulish mysteries, and Big Daddy Benoit. This place, meanwhile, was all hospital sanitation, seat belts, and safety announcements. It felt like riding an expensive school bus at this point. With a sigh, Oz let his head fall back against the window. For a while now,

And, worst of all, he had zero signal out here. The wi-fi was also slower than molasses. So, no Candy Crush or high-stakes solitaire. Ozni had gone so far as to try reading an actual book, but sci-fi didn’t hold a lot of appeal right now. He was literally about to be surrounded by space.

Enchanted, his Arctozolt wriggled in her restraints. Tiny flippers beat excitedly at her legs as her neck strained to press her face against the window. A snot trail followed her movements. “Icee, babe, come on.” Ozni waved airily at the fossil Pokemon. It looked almost disappointed. Get down.” Long, pianist's fingers gestured vaguely to the person in front of him. “Nobody wants to look at your boogers.” A glance at his watch revealed show time neared.

Hopefully, that poor people's space lottery would get him some major views.

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[attr="class","oznitop"][attr="class","ozni"]

[attr="class","oznimain"]The Adebayo family’s idea of roughing it was booking a 5-star resort without a spa. Ozni did not even know what a motel was until he met one of Dad’s girlfriends. Losing the internet for more than an hour or two turned him into a jonesing addict. So, when he announced he was going camping, his assistant’s head about exploded. “Are you sure, Mister Adebayo?” The responding grin is blinding. “As a mountain goat. Set tasers to stun, Sulu.”

It was for a good cause. One of his buddies agreed to donate $10k for every hour he spent on the island. This money would go into some BS fund for environmental causes. This kind of stuff was what his audience would eat right up. And, most of them wouldn’t question why he didn’t just spot the bill himself. After a few weeks of planning, Ozni set out for his little slice of paradise.

One solar generator and a custom-built yurt later, he kicked his feet back on a bespoke coffee table. The sand below his feet was replaced by a high-end mat. A projector turned one wall of the structure into an oversized TV screen. Of course, when on screen, he appeared to be roughing it. A windblown tent rested at one corner of the screen. Currently, he stood over a pile of conveniently placed brush. An axe rested on his arm. A text was sent over wi-fi as he turned to his Porygon-Z. “Ready, set, film!”

With a grunt, Ozni brought the axe down in a wide arc. It parted like butter. His techno music grew in volume, sending birds flying from their nests.

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[attr="class","oznitop"][attr="class","ozni"]

[attr="class","oznimain"]As it all crashed down around him, Ozni struggled to find words. That typical bravado left with the hiss of a deflated balloon. This guy didn’t play the role very well if that’s what he was doing. At this point, there should be a hidden camera reveal and his stupid friend laughing at him. But Ozni knew now. This was real.

Fuck. Fuuuuuuck. Holy shit! What do I do?

When he speaks again, his voice is tiny. “I—I thought it was a prank.” He swallowed. The way this guy said it made it sound so stupid. As if it was more normal to get actual kidnapped than it was to fake it. “Like Abductors R Us or something?” If anyone bothered, they’d find a service under that name. A group of people who would pretend to take you hostage so that you could get out of work or a family dinner.

The next jab made him wince. The sting on his cheek is highlighted by a blush. Even if it was a good thing, this guy made it seem perverse. Like he’d been caught pleasuring himself to some weird hentai stuff. The stammer punctuates the lack of bravado. “I’m pretty sure that says more about you than me.” He murmured to the floor beneath him.


At the raised glove, Ozni sinks deeper into his hoody. He tries to meet the other guy’s mask eyes first, but Baby Blues keeps shifting to the unspoken threat. For a second, it seems like he’ll tough it out. That he’ll handle this like the guy from Taken. But, then, it cracks. “Of course,” That grin is one of cowardice. The same thing you get from a belly-up dog.


“Consider it a gift.” He takes a deep desperate breath. "From one bro to another."

“Just send the account numbers to—” Oh, god, who was in charge of accounting now? He canned Jerry and his poindexters eons ago. What the heck was her name? “Miriam. Wheeler.”


He takes a calming breath. “Or we can just Cashapp it."

[attr="class","oznipoke"]