Make It Rein...Deer

Rudy stretched his arms and shoulders, uttering a relaxed sigh as he stomped into the room. The laptop was unlocked (that idiot must not have bothered to set up a proper password, he reckoned) and lay there, inviting his interference.

He grabbed the wheeled chair from the far side of the room and plopped down in front of the desk the computer sat upon. His weight strained the small seat — the hiss of its pneumatic core coming apart at the seams told him he hadn't long if he wanted to remain upright. Humming a merry theme to himself, he poked his stubby tail between the gaps in the chair's back and leaned over the device.

Checking for icons, he noticed a cloud sync program in a corner of the screen. Opening it, he saw the image of the phone he had destroyed, and its user ID. Lucky, he thought as he navigated further. His great bulk shifted in anticipation as he typed away — tough fingertips clacking loudly on the plastic keys.

Delving deeper into the software, he checked recent uploads. To his growing sense of dismay, Rudy saw no videos added in at least two days. Two days! And this looked like the right place to check for recordings — he was sure of it! Hell, he knew the folks who built these things — they were a little short (much like their stature) on time to give any lectures, but he had experience enough with technology and he couldn't find any evidence that the punk had been recording at all throughout the entire night!

He double-checked. But the timestamps didn't lie. He'd been duped.

The room filled with a deep growl. Rudy balled his hands into fists, daring himself to smash this god-damned laptop into a million pieces just like that asshole's phone.

"Son of a..."

Storming downstairs, Rudy found his thong and harness where he'd left them. After a moment steaming with rage, he dressed himself in what scant costume he had.

Fucker didn't record me at all! That lying prick...

Opening the door and walking into the backyard, Rudy glanced over his shoulder — taking one last look at the condo.

What a waste of an hour!

His anger was soothed by another thought. "Well..."he said, and smiled, running his hand over the bulge between his legs, his monster sated (for now), "...not entirely wasted."

Crouching, and looking into the night sky, Rudy launched into a rapid ascent — his magical flight a welcome distraction from the events that had just taken place. The wind rushed past him — his fur matting down as he put his arms by his sides and kept his legs straight. His nose began to glow again as he surged into the darkness and the starlight.