“Ugh, it’s too hot in the Sohori Desert today! I’m sooo hungry too…Wait, is that a mirage, or…? …No, it’s a delicious bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs! I gotta get over there before-” “Fell right for my trap, hyena!” “I should’ve known, it’s Patrick the Poacher!” “All it takes is putting down a bowl of Cinnamon Puffs and you come runnin’ just like kiddies for an ice cream truck!” “Argghh, I can’t resist the delicious cinnamon explosion in every bite…” “And NOW you’re my prisoner, gonna take you in my…hey, what are you doing to my truck? Stop!” *BOOM* “Huh, I guess trucks don’t like Cinnamon Corn Puffs in their gas tanks, heh!” “CINNAMON CORN PUFFS, ONLY PART OF THIS COMPLETE BREAKFAST.” “donotpourintoyourdadscarsgastank.” ------ Who is Howie Hyena? Most younger adults can remember growing up seeing this silly guy’s face on their TV screens every Saturday morning. “I can recite all the commercials by heart. My friends got a kick out of my imitation of Patrick the Poacher.” “I got a stomach ache after eating so much Cinnamon Puffs. But I never wanted any other cereal. I still eat only that for breakfast today. I had some just before this interview!” “Howie Hyena! I loved him, he was so funny. He just couldn’t catch a break with that stupid poacher!” So much love was had for Howie. The hyena had been thwarting Patrick’s attempts at poaching him for two generations. For Patrick, it seemed simple. Throw down a bowl of the sugary spicy cereal, and voila, there he was. However, Howie wasn’t *that* stupid, he’d always find a way out of the sticky situation. “The writers found a way to keep everything fresh. They’d have me in all sorts of places, the city, the mountains, the jungles…the beach…” -------- “I made it to the best beach this side of Sohori! Time to work on this tan…after a bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs!” “Relaxing afternoon by the shores, hyena?” “Patrick the Poacher? What are you doing here?” “I’m here to take you to my island prison! Loooook~, the boat’s filled with tons, and tons of Cinnamon Puffs~” “Ooooh, no, a whole boat filled with a delicious cinnamon explosion in every bite?” “Now, if you’ll come with me, we’ll- HEY! My boat!” *CHOMP* “Huh, I guess sharks also love the taste of Cinnamon Corn Puffs! Heh.” “CINNAMON CORN PUFFS, ONLY PART OF THIS COMPLETE BREAKFAST.” -------- Howie Hyena, or Howard Hymowitz, was born in 1963, to a welder named Herbert, and a teacher named Veronica. The two of them shared a love for theatre, and would often take their son to see stage productions. Little Howie loved watching them too, and wanted to take part in them. Both Herbert and Veronica were more than happy to let him join in. Eventually, he got noticed by his first agent, and began to do TV advertisements. His bit roles in commercials paid off, and by his 20th birthday, he became the TV mascot for Cinnamon Corn Puffs cereal. “One moment, I was standing on the stage where others were taking the spotlight, the next, I’m running around on camera with a bowl of cereal in my hand. The fact that I looked different from everyone else on that stage MAY have helped,” Howie told us. -------- “Are we sure wardrobe doesn’t have anything bigger? This speedo is kind of reve-” “ACTION!” “I made it to the best beach this side of Sohori! Time to work on this tan…after a bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs!” “Relaxing afternoon by the shores, hyena?” “Patrick the Poacher? What are you-” *RIIIP* “Oh no!” “AAAAAAHHH!!” “Hahahaha! Nice cinnamon puffs, Howie!” “CUT! CUT!” -------- “My next guest has been the mascot for Cinnamon Corn Puffs cereal for the past 11 years. Kids have grown up watching him thwarting Patrick the Poacher, and he has no intention to stop anytime soon. Howie Hyena, everyone.” *Uproarious applause; upbeat, jazzy music* “Good to meet you, Howie.” “You too, good to be here.” “WE LOVE YOU, HOWIE~” “Always the men shouting that, never the ladies.” *Delighted squeals from the audience* “There’s your love from the ladies, Howie.” “Haha! You never know.” *Laughter* “So tell me your story, Howie. You’ve been on TV since the mid-to-late seventies, and then in ‘83 you became the mascot for a cereal giving children cavities the world over.” *Laughter* “That’s why we say at the end of every commercial it’s only a part of a complete breakfast. Uhh, yeah I was doing stage shows and then one guy in the audience said ‘I WANT THAT HYENA ON TV.’” *Laughter* “Is it weird being called a hyena?” “Uhh…no?” *Laughter* “I’ve been called one all my life, so it’s pretty normal.” “So you’ve been doing these commercials for over a decade now.” “Yup.” “Any other roles you’d like to pursue?” “I did an off-Broadway production just to return to my roots for a short bit. Nothing big, I don’t want to distract myself from my current job too much.” “Tell me about a day on set. What’s it like?” “I go to wardrobe, go over the script while getting fitted for any new clothing I’ll wear in the commercials, keep it with me in makeup until I get on set. By now I’m pretty much set in character so I know how to act as the character and how to ad-lib, especially if Pat starts to improvise his own lines.” “Any mishaps on set?” “Uhhh…that doesn’t happen too often, the crew are ready for most things. I can only remember one specific instance I don’t think they want me sharing, even on late night TV.” “Can’t share with us?” *Disappointed sounds in audience* “Sorry.” “Well, what do you like to do in your free time?” “Well I’d been teaching myself piano. My mom doubled as a substitute music teacher so I knew a thing or two to begin with. I was playing a loungy tune to myself at home earlier today.” “Wanna show us? We do have a piano here. Gio, you wanna give Howie the spotlight over there?” *Applause* “Alright, well…” *Smooth, jazzy intro* “I fell for you…” *Surprised applause* “…And got concussed, I asked you for your name, and got the bust, I wanted to share my loooove…” *Swooning in the audience* “…but it was…not…juuuuust.” *Other instruments joining in* “Maybe you thought it was silly lust, maybe you saw me but could not adjust, maybe past guys made you lose your trust…I fell for you and got concussed. Maybe you saw my car had some rust, maybe my looks just weren’t robust, maybe my gaze left you in disgust…I fell for you and got concussed.” *Improvised jazz, uproarious applause from the audience* “Howie Hyena, everyone! Our musical guest when we come back! Don’t go away!” -------- Howie’s antics against Patrick the Poacher were seen during commercial breaks in every family’s living room. A box of Cinnamon Corn Puffs with the hyena’s silly grin printed on it had been in every mother’s kitchen cupboard. Children no doubt screamed at their parents to grab one whenever they passed by the boxes in their grocer’s breakfast aisle. The cereal was also popular with college students and even grown adults, some enthusiastic about the mascot. “My classes start late in the afternoon, so I have a bowl of it in the morning and watch cartoons as I practice my drawing. I’ve drawn tons of sketches of him. He’s so adorable.” But, one fateful day in 2003, this commercial aired. -------- “CINNAMON~” “Yeah!” “CINNAMON CORN PUFFS” “Oooh!” “CINN-A-MON!” “A delicious cinnamon explosion in every bite!” “Cinnamon Corn Puffs cereal. Part of this complete breakfast.” -------- No Howie. No Patrick. Just a lot of shouting at a bowl of cereal. In fact, no one’s heard from Howie Hyena since then. The man who played Patrick the Poacher, Pat Derbow, had a recurring role in the canceled sitcom “Raking Coal,” which ran only for 16 episodes. “Huh. Yeah, never heard from Howard after the manufacturer wanted to rebrand. Cereal mascots just stopped being popular, I guess.” -------- “Fresh powder on the slopes today! Can’t wait to get to the bottom, a bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs is waiting for me down there!” “Enjoying your ski vacation, hyena?” “Patrick the Poacher, you cut it out right now! I’m on my vacation *away* from your poaching attempts!” “But if you want me to go away, you won’t be able to enjoy *this* bowl of Cinnamon Puffs! Why wait to get to the bottom?” “Oh no! You already have a bowl containing a cinnamon explosion in every bi- There’s a tree there.” “Wha-” *BOOM* “Huh, I guess he didn’t finish skiing lessons! Gotta look forward, kids! Heh.” “CINNAMON CORN PUFFS, ONLY A PART OF THIS COMPLETE BREAKFAST.” -------- “So, my buddy and I are at this bar in Burbank.” “You recording, bro?” “Yeah. We’re sitting down and having drinks, and who do we see at the bar, other than fucking HOWIE HYENA.” “Shit bro, he’s my childhood!” “Don’t ignore us, bro! We’re shouting loud enough for you to hear!” “Oh no, guys, you’re recording? Please turn that off. I’ll happily autograph your stuff if you stop recording me.” “What’s wrong? You’ve been on camera a million times!” “Hey, can you get the bouncer over here? I’m just not in the mood to have people putting their phones in my face tonight.” “PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY, SIR.” “What? No! This is America, bro!” “No, this is private property, ‘bro.’ PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY BEFORE YOU’RE ASKED TO LEAVE WITH IT IN PIECES.” “Go fuck yourself!” “THAT’S IT.” “Shit!” *Punch punch* *Shatter* *Thud* -------- Where is Howie Hyena now? People claim to spot him on the streets of SoCal every so often. Everyone who has tried to get his attention is usually ignored. More likely, he’s decided to seclude himself in his private abode, gated, where no guest is allowed uninvited. His job being the cereal mascot seems to have set him for life, each airing of any of the commercials in every station in the United States and Canada resulting in handsome residuals. His ads are known to still air in some countries despite no new ones having been made. Some rumored that he continued to be the mascot in overseas markets, but if the Scourers of the Internet have anything to say, those were just rumors. Theoretically, he never has to leave home, he may have hired people to buy whatever groceries he needs, he surely has a private accountant managing his current funds, and if he needs to travel, there are plenty of methods of private transportation at the ready for him. While he may want to be left alone now to enjoy his Golden Years, one fact remains: Howie Hyena has left a mark in Americana that will surely be felt by people young and old for generations. The bowl of cereal he left in our hearts will never be poached. -------- “Phew! It’s certainly a workout, traversing through the Sohori Jungle. Maybe I should stop and have a bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs!” “Sounds like a great idea, hyena!” “Patrick the Poacher. What are you doing following me around again?” “Can’t a poacher enjoy the lovely jungle too? Hey, look, I’ve left a bowl of Cinnamon Puffs lying over there on top of that weaving of rope.” “You sure? I can’t see it. What rope?” “You near-sighted, hyena?” *Stomp stomp* “The bowl is right over-” *SNAP* “Huh, he walked right into that one! Literally! Heh.” “CINNAMON CORN PUFFS, ONLY A PART OF THIS COMPLETE BREAKFAST.” “Now in travel size! Take it to school, take it to work, take it anywhere! Wherever you go, just don’t get poached!” -------- -------- Martin closed his browser. He’d been up all night searching the web for his favorite cereal mascot. Commercials, news stories, interviews, outtake reels, social media, he’d searched everywhere. There’d been plenty of nostalgia conventions that would have celebrities from times gone by come and be loved by fans, but Howie Hyena never made an appearance at any of them. Nope. Gone. Disappeared. Like he just vanished into thin air back in 2003. Aside from the one video made by two drunk college students some years back, Howie had not been found in any official capacity. After that video, no one at that bar ever saw Howie. Martin himself lived in the same area that the hyena supposedly did. It was a big city, surely someone must have bumped into him at some point. The fan headed to bed. He’d start his search fresh the next day. -------- Martin drove to what was rumored to be the hyena’s current place of residence. As the news article read, he lived in a gated home. There were a lot of gated homes here though, it was a fairly affluent neighborhood. This one stood out to Martin, however. The mailbox said “Hymowitz” on it. How common a name could it be? Martin pressed the doorbell button on the intercom next to the mailbox. “Hello? Mr. Hyena?” Martin paused. “Mr. Hymowitz? Forgive me for intruding, I’m sure you may have had other people come to your door and do this. I’m a huge fan, I’ve watched ALL of the commercials you were in, even BEFORE you were the Cinnamon Corn Puffs mascot. Like that BBQ restaurant commercial you were in in the late 70s!” No response was heard from the speaker. “Sorry, I’m sure that doesn’t give me any brownie points with you. I assure you though, I don’t have any cameras with me or anything. I’m not like those drunk college guys who harassed you in the bar that one time.” Still no response. “Well, just know you do have fans that care about you. I’m sorry. I’ll go now.” Martin walked back to his car and drove off. -------- Martin walked into the bar where the social media video had been recorded. The bartender looked familiar. Martin identified him as the man who called over the bouncer in the video. “Hello, may I sit at the bar for a bit?” The bartender gestured towards the seat. “Sure thing.” “I’m not much of a drinker. Got any soft drinks?” “Yeah. What’cha like?” “Cola’ll be fine.” “There you are.” The bartender dispensed some soda into a glass for Martin, and then continued to prepare for the afternoon service before he was interrupted. “I’m sorry, I’m sure people may have asked you this a bunch of times in the past. You know anything about Howard Hymowitz?” “Mmm, no. Name doesn’t ring a bell.” “Really, you don’t know Howie Hyena?” “Ahhhh, yes. The cereal guy.” Martin smiled. “Haven’t seen him in ages.” “I see…” “Yeah, this was a secret spot for him back in the day until two scumbags put their smartphones in his face. After the bouncer threw them out we kindly suggested he find somewhere else to go, as he might get more unwanted attention here.” Martin nodded. “As for where, we don’t know, and if we did, it would not be great of us to share with some random guy.” “Alright, well, thanks anyway.” Martin finished his soda, paid and tipped, and left. -------- Martin knew deep down inside that his search for his favorite cereal mascot would be futile. Who tries to track down a celebrity who has actively avoided the public eye? Martin drove to the nearby shopping mall. Some knick-knacks from the novelty shops would make him feel better, surely. As he continued to browse in all the shops, he began to hear a nearby piano. Someone trying to show off, he thought, and continued looking through useless material items for something that interested him to buy. Martin zig-zagged through the shops in the corridor, skipping ones he knew wouldn’t interest him, spending extended time in the ones he knew would have something he liked. What caught Martin’s eye other than a Boom! figure of who else, Howie Hyena, among other cereal mascots Martin was less inclined to learn more about. After leaving the store with his brand new shelf figure, Martin continued over to the piano, where someone was still playing around on it. Despite the music being played, not one person looked on. Everyone was engrossed in their phones, scrolling as they walked. The person playing was wearing khakis and a jacket, with their hood on. Their hands looked…fuzzy. Martin decided to stay and listen. As the mysterious person finished the piece they were playing, they sat there in silence for a moment, as if to wait for applause that would not come. The person then began to play some jazzy chords and melodies that sounded somewhat familiar to Martin. He could not put his finger on where he knew it. Martin then began to hear some humming coming from the hooded person, in tune and harmony with the music. The humming became mumbling, and the mumbling became decipherable words. “It might have been my wanderlust, perhaps you heard me when I cussed, or else you didn’t find me august?” It all clicked in Martin’s brain when the next line matched up with the talk show clip he’d watched a million times. “I fell for you and got concussed.” Martin ran up to the piano, his shopping bag awkwardly shaking around as he did so. “Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to be-” “I’m nobody, sir,” the bundled-up piano player responded, somewhat coldly. From this point of view, Martin had a better look at the person from their side. A snout protruded from the hood, with a wet black nose at the end of it. Martin grinned. “You are! Howie Hyena!” The person stopped playing. Their fuzzy fingers reached into their hood, rubbing his snout, going inward. The hood fell backwards. “I shouldn’t have sung aloud,” he said quietly, to himself. He sighed heavily. “Well, what would you like? An autograph?” “Hm?” “An autograph? My signature? A picture? A shout out on your phone? Sex in the men’s room stall?” “Oh, I would lov- wait, WHAT?” “Something that would satisfy a fan who may have too much time on their hands, so I can go back to playing the piano here in peace.” “Well, don’t you have a piano at home?” “No one to listen when I play.” Martin looked at all the passersby, all on their phones. “I don’t think most of the people here are interested in hearing.” “Oh, whether they stop and watch or not, they listen. Their brains certainly take it in as they walk by,” the hyena said, pointing to his head. The hyena’s stomach started to rumble. “Er…how about lunch in the food court? My treat?” Martin suggested. -------- “I stayed cooped up in my home for years. I was getting tired of seeing the place. That’s why I like to come here and play on the piano,” Howie said, between bites of his burger. “You couldn’t do other roles?” “No one was interested in hiring me. By then I was typecast.” “You said in that talk show you played a small part in a theatre production.” “Which was fine, and I did a bunch after that, but I’d end up with a crazed fan or two in the casts of these shows wanting to be buddy-buddy just because we worked together.” “You didn’t want to be friends with them?” “No. I also hate confrontation and yelling at people. It was hard for me to tell them: ‘thanks, but I’m not interested in being friends.’” “What about Pat?” “Who, Derbow? No, we never spoke on or off set. He knew how to keep things professional. We weren’t friends.” “Were you typecast for being a hyena?” Howie looked up from his plate, giving his fan a puzzled look. “No, I was typecast for being a cereal mascot.” “Oh.” Martin paused. “Heh, what you said before was pretty funny. I didn’t immediately realize you were joking when you suggested we have sex.” “Oh, I wasn’t.” “Uhh…?” “Some fans I’ve met have wanted me to have sex with them. I’ve obliged for a few of them.” Martin blushed. “Well…it certainly never came to mind today, but there’ve been some evenings…” Howie laughed. “You do the naughty when thinking of your FAVORITE cereal mascot?” He asked, with a coy grin and a raised eyebrow. The round-faced fan turned even more red. “I, uh…saw the speedo outtake.” “Ah, you saw my pixelated shame that somehow made its way out of the archive!” Martin grinned, sheepishly. “That’s usually a topic with some fans like you. I seem to be the sexual awakening for some more unusual folks. Not to insult you, of course, but not too many fans track me down to the correct house and pour their hearts out over the intercom.” Martin’s eyes widened. “You heard all of that?” “Of course!” Howie paused. “Listen. The offer is still on the table. You’ve got your car, drive us back to my house once we’re done eating.” Martin was surprised to have been pegged so well by the hyena. “Well…” -------- The two got out of Martin’s car, once again parked by the gate of Howie’s house. The hyena took out a small device with a button on it, and pressed it, opening the gate. “Welcome to Chez Hymowitz.” “It’s nice.” “It’s definitely much more modest than my previous place. Once the campaign ended, I downsized, the residuals wouldn’t have been able to cover the bigger house I had.” Howie opened the door. Martin was surprised to see how normal a house it was. The super fan expected something more like a house dedicated to the cereal he was the star of. Pictures of the hyena rubbing elbows with other celebrities. Custom-made furniture shaped like the cereal puffs. A color scheme matching the box design. Nope, none of that. Just a very generic-looking house. “You can sit in the living room if you want. I want to freshen up, sitting in a well-heated mall with a hooded jacket made this fuzzball very sweaty. And not the sexy kind.” Martin sat on the couch, looking at the remote controls for the impressive-looking entertainment system the hyena had. The round fan took one, and accidentally hit the “Play” button on it with one of his fat fingers. The TV turned on. Immediately, a bunch of text appeared on the screen. “Cinnamon Corn Puffs 30-second TV Spot #A1-0001 “Sohori Desert, Exploding Truck “Recording Date: 1/18/83, 11:14:30 AM, Take 8” The text disappeared, and on came a familiar sight. “Ugh, it’s too hot in the Sohori Desert today! I’m sooo hungry too…Wait, is that a mirage, or…? …No, it’s a delicious bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs! I gotta get over there before-” Martin began to repeat the lines out loud, as he’d seen this commercial almost daily as a kid and even more frequently as an adult. Once the commercial ended, one he had never seen before began. “Cinnamon Corn Puffs 30-second TV Spot #A2-0001 “Sohori City, Giant Bus “Recording Date: 2/4/83, 3:42:10 PM, Take 12” “Sohori City’s bustling today! But I’m not too busy to enjoy a bowl of Cinnamon Corn Puffs as I wait for the bus!” *Doors open* “Welcome to the Sohori City Transit, hyena!” “Patrick the Poacher! What are you doing driving the bus?” “I’m moving people around the metropolis until I find the perfect victim! Looook~, the bus is filled to the brim with Cinnamon Puffs~” “Oh no, a bus-ful of a cinnamon explosion in every bite?” “That’s right, now get o-OOF” *BANG-SCREECH* “Sohori City Transit Route A2” *Doors open* “Huh, I guess there were two buses on this route! Heh.” “CINNAMON CORN PUFFS, ONLY PART OF THIS COMPLETE BREAKFAST.” It had not occurred to Martin that the Scourers of the Internet would not be able to find EVERY commercial. The video Martin was watching seemed to be all the completed spots, including the ones that didn’t make it to TV. Martin continued watching through the old ad spots. He didn’t realize that Howie had re-entered the room, donning a robe. “Huh, I guess he didn’t finish skiing lessons! Gotta look forward, kids! Heh.” All of a sudden, Martin heard the hyena’s voice in duplicate, a youthful one on the TV, and a more aged one over his shoulder. “Bethcha hadn’t seen some of these commercials before,” Howie grinned. “Yeah, there were some of them I don’t remember at all.” “Mm-hmm. Not every ad made it to TV even though they were written, shot, and post-produced.” Silence filled the room as the next production card got displayed on screen: “Cinnamon Corn Puffs 30-second TV Spot #A23-0001 “Sohori Beach, Shark “Recording date: 8/3/94, 1:45:20 PM, Take #25” “Take 25?” Martin asked. “Yeah, that one was particularly tough to get right.” Howie and Martin watched the spot play out, without a hitch. Martin seemed a little sad. “Aww, no speedo rip.” “Haha, no, this tape only has the takes that made it to air. The outtake reel’s on another tape somewhere.” “Let’s watch that next!” Martin exclaimed. “Oh, but why go through the trouble of searching my little archive here for a video tape containing a brief shot of my nudity…” Martin untied his robe. “…when all I need to do is open my robe for you?” The round, excited fan gasped. It wasn’t every day you got to see your idol’s dick. “There it is, bud, in all its unpixelated glory.” In a vacuum, the hyena’s flaccid penis was unremarkable. It was of average length, a visibly circumcised pink glans with some foreskin at the base of it, the shaft a light pink color, and his balls, covered in cinnamon-colored fur. To Martin, though, it was a divine sight. All these years of loving this tall, lanky hyena he’d seen on his TV all through his childhood and adolescence, as an adult he finally got the chance to do what he’d only fantasized about. “My bed would be more comfortable for us than the couch. C’mon.” The breakfast mascot gestured to the round super fan to follow him. Just like the living room, Howie’s bedroom was just as normal-looking. Only a handful of photos of him with family, his parents, and him at various landmarks. “I have a question,” Martin said while removing his own clothes. “Hm?” “I don’t think you ever implied you were into men. In your talk show interview you were sad that the ladies didn’t say they loved you.” “Heh. The things you had to keep to yourself when you were on TV in the 80s and 90s. It’s surely different now, but yeah, letting people know that would have ended my career as mascot even sooner than it actually did.” Howie slipped out of his robe completely. “Most of my fans wishing to have sex with me were men, so, it all worked out.” Martin removed his briefs, leaving him standing there in just a pair of socks. He felt somewhat vulnerable and embarrassed. “Heh, most of them also were big guys just like you. I lucked out in another category,” the naked hyena winked. Howie hopped onto his bed, rubbing it, inviting Martin to get on. The round superfan rested his shin on the mattress, the mattress giving an audible creak as he did so. Martin’s added weight definitely made the mattress go lower to the floor. “First, some cuddling. Get over here~” Howie said, singsong. As Martin got closer, the long, fuzzy arms of his idol wrapped around him. The feeling of the hyena’s paw pads on his back was an odd, yet somehow familiar feeling. The superfan felt a cold, wet nose rub his chin for a second. The hyena pressed his face against Martin’s, moving it around like a happy dog would when greeting his owner. “Mmmm,” Howie rumbled. The hyena’s hold on Martin’s round body tightened. Both men had been deprived of this kind of touch for some time. Martin followed suit and started to rub the hyena’s back. The feel of soft fur moving through his fingers made the scene all too real. This was no daydream. He was cuddling and getting intimate with a walking and talking hyena. Martin felt something poking him under his belly. “Heh, knock-knock. Can my dick come in?” Martin looked down to find the hyena’s boner pressing between his pubic mound and belly. The sight of this roused his own penis. “Yes he may~” Martin jokingly held his hand up to his mouth, as if speaking behind a door. The hyena’s dick began to enter the loose fold of belly covering the top of Martin’s fupa. Howie began to thrust himself against Martin. The superfan was taken aback. Just a few hours ago he was about to give up finding the mascot, and was getting fupa-fucked by him now. “Your belly fold reminds me of when I fucked pillows back in high school. Very soft.” Howie smiled. Martin laughed. “Didn’t think I’d ever hear a cereal mascot use that kind of language!” “Oh, cussing’s no stranger to this hyena’s mouth. The blooper reels were filled with it.” “Oh?” “Mm-hmm. But only when I’m angry…or horny.” Howie smiled. “Betcha wanna taste?” Martin nodded. The two exited their embrace. “Get on down there!” Howie instructed in the voice he spoke with in the commercials. The round superfan shimmied lower down the hyena’s mattress, finding his idol’s dick staring right back at him. He touched it with his hands for a moment, feeling its warmth and stiffness. The texture of the hyena’s circumcision scar against his finger and thumb once again reminded him of the reality of what was happening. “I love it~” “You can’t say that without popping it in your mouth, bud.” Within seconds, Martin stuffed Howie’s dick into his face. Howie began to thrust inward again, fucking Martin’s mouth. The hyena’s furry balls slapped against Martin’s chin. The fan was in absolute bliss. He tried not to smile as he held his lips over his teeth while the hyena’s dick entered and exited his mouth. He let his tongue massage the underside of Howie’s shaft and head. As Howie rested for a moment in Martin’s mouth, Martin grabbed hold of the extremely fuzzy nutsack that had been slapping him. He made a contented sound with a mouthful of hyena dick. “The forbidden Cinnamon Puffs,” Howie joked. After a bit of relief, Howie continued to fuck Martin’s mouth. After some time, the hyena felt he was getting close. “Oh no, you just might be getting a mouthful of Howie milk in a moment~” Howie’s thrusting slowed to a pause. Martin then immediately felt the forbidden Cinnamon Puffs slapping much harder against his chin, while slowly receiving a good mouthful of hyena jizz. The super fan took delight in savoring it, swallowing small amounts at a time. After a minute of resting in Martin’s mouth, Howie pulled his softening dick out. “Hahh…gotta rest a bit before round two,” Howie sighed. After swallowing the last bit of Howie’s milk, Martin laid to Howie’s side, admiring his idol’s nude form. “You didn’t get a full 360° yet, did you?” Howie turned his back to Martin. After a moment, the hyena raised his tail, revealing his rear end. “Some fans seem to like my butt, but it’s just like every other guy butt.” Martin felt the soft furry cheeks of Howie’s ass, rubbing through the fur just like he had other parts of Howie’s body. The flat sides of each cheek told Martin that the aging hyena kept in shape. With less fat on his butt than anywhere on Martin, the fan found it difficult to play with the cheeks. Some effort with rubbing the bottom of the cheeks revealed Howie’s pink, furless hole. Howie didn’t expect a rogue finger to start poking his anus. “Oof!” The hyena repositioned himself, closing his legs, bending his knees, and placing his feet paws between the back of his thighs and Martin. The super fan immediately noticed something more interesting than what he’d been poking at. Something he’d only seen in the infamous Sohori Beach commercial for all of two seconds. He was happy to announce it. “Hey, I found toe beans!” Martin began to play with the round pads of Howie’s toes, as well as the metatarsal pads under them. “H-hey, what are you doing, stop, hahaha stop touching those.” “Nuh-uh they’re adorable.” Martin responded, squishing the giant beans around in his hands. “Hahaha stop, I think I liked you poking my butthole better. Do that instead.” Howie straightened out again, giving Martin access to the hyena’s rear. Martin rubbed the cheeks. “You let all your fans do this?” “No,” Howie explained, “I usually just let fans give me a blowie in a public bathroom stall. That satisfies them enough and I don’t see them again.” “Why’d you invite me into your house?” Howie paused before answering. “You seem to see what others haven’t. This isn’t a silly suit I’m wearing. I’m an actual hyena. Fans who get the bathroom blowie treatment don’t seem to get that either…at least, I don’t think they do.” “It wasn’t my heartfelt speech over the intercom, then?” Martin joked. Howie rolled over and pulled Martin up to him by the arm. “The speech may have helped you somewhat,” Howie said, booping Martin’s nose with one of his fingers. Martin felt a light swipe of the claw on his nose. “Anyway, it’s time for round two. Roll over.” Martin turned over on the bed, his round squishy butt making contact with the tip of Howie’s dick. “You’ll have to guide me in, there’s a lot of you down there.” Martin grabbed the penis behind him and positioned himself so his idol could properly insert himself. “There’s the hole,” Martin said. With some effort, the hyena dick, still slick with Martin’s saliva and some of Howie’s leftover jizz, went into the human anus. Howie began to thrust inward, slapping his thighs against the back of his superfan. “Ooooh…” Martin shuddered. “Mmmph, a very nice tight hole here.” Howie’s nutsack plapped against Martin with each thrust. The two of them were once again in bliss. “Fuck me,” Martin said. “Oh, you’ll be getting a second serving soon enough,” Howie responded. “Fuuuuuuuck…” Martin sighed. Howie’s lower torso kept bouncing off Martin’s lower back as he rammed into him repeatedly. The impact rippled slightly on Martin’s flesh. “For a big guy you’ve got an extremely tight hole,” Howie said while continuing to rail his superfan. While fucking Martin, the hyena reached around his superfan to find his small dick, the head flopping about with each impact of Howie’s thighs. He started to rub it. “This little guy needs attention too.” The hyena stroked Martin’s dick some more, matching the rhythm with his thrusts. Within seconds, Howie felt a slickness in his hand. Martin’s dick lubricated Howie’s hand with copious amounts of precum. “Ohh, I think I’m gonna…” Martin warned. “Already?” Not one full second after Howie uttered his single-word question, Martin began to cum onto the hyena’s blankets, and in the hyena’s hand. He’d been pent up and had been lightly stroking himself since putting Howie’s dick in his mouth. “Hahah, aren’t you a potent pistol?” Howie asked, continuing to lazily stroke Martin’s penis. It didn’t take much longer for Howie to finish up, himself. “Here it comes, unf, your second helping~” Howie thrusted one final time, pushing hard into Martin’s back. Martin could feel four distinct heavy loads of jizz in his butt, along with one or two light shots after that. “Ahhh, that felt good,” the hyena sighed. Howie exited Martin’s rear and laid back on his bed. Martin turned over and faced the hyena again. “So, forgive me for sounding like a weirdo, but, why did you stop being the mascot all of a sudden?” Martin placed his hand on the hyena’s fuzzy chest. “Well…this,” Howie gestured at their lower bodies. “My employers found out that I’d been having tons of anonymous sex with fans, all men, and prior to that, I was keeping from them a private relationship with one of their photographers.” “So that DID end your career.” “Yep.” “Who told them?” “No one told them. I’d long since broken up with the photographer, but on good terms. I asked him about it when it happened and he said he had no clue how they found out. Someone must have slipped up somewhere, a found picture, a heard voice message on my phone when it wasn’t in my hands…I don’t know. They just said they had proof, and that was the end of my employment with them.” “That’s sad…but, like you said, it’s different now. Think they’d give you your job back?” Howie shrugged. “There’d have to be a lot of different people there. I’d rather get an invitation than going to them and asking.” Howie sat up. “Well, that was a good bit of fun. I don’t know if it’d be appropriate to keep you here much longer.” Martin nodded. “I see. Just, one more thing before I go?” “Hm?” The round naked fan reached into the bag by his discarded clothes. “Think you can sign my Boom! figure of you?” Howie took a look at the small box, seeing an odd cartoony figure of a hyena in safari clothes looking back at him through its plastic window. “Huh, I sure hope my accountant knows what he’s doing with these…” Martin grabbed a marker from his discarded pants pocket to give to Howie. “Okay… ‘To,’ uhh…” “Martin.” “Yes. ‘To Martin. You have a great ass. Hope you enjoyed sexy times with your favorite cereal mascot. -Howie Hyena’” ------------- FIVE MONTHS LATER Martin turned on his TV. To his surprise, a new commercial came on for his favorite cereal. *Creaaak, slam* *Vrrrrr, click* “Honey, is there anything quick I can have for breakfast? My big meeting’s in an hour!” *Silence* “Honey!” *Rustle, crack, crack, sizzle* “Guess it’ll have to be some quick eggs for break-WHOOP” *Snap* “Honey, who put this hanging net in the kitchen?” *Munch munch munch* “Uhhh, what are you doing in my kitchen?” *Munch* “Huh, I guess you didn’t see the box of Cinnamon Corn Puffs in your cupboard, heh.” “Cinnamon Corn Puffs.” #HowieIsBack