Art by  leontickles

Characters belong to Naught Dog

Story by me


——

Crash stared at the photo bewildered. He couldn’t believe it was real, and yet it stood there, mocking him relentlessly. The bandicoot was taking his beauty sleep at the shore, as he usually did every day, when he suddenly heard the sound of a drone. The hero instantly stood up, knowing it couldn’t be good. Was Cortex up to something, again? He couldn’t know, so Crash got ready for anything to come his way. As the drone approached, the marsupial raised his fists, ready to spin attack the machine if needed. Yet, it stopped two meters away from the bandicoot. Beneath it, a little hole opened up, and from it fell what looked like an envelope. Then the drone quickly flew away, disappearing into the ocean horizon.

The hero carefully approached the envelope, fearing a trap, but also knowing it was impossible to ignore whatever the hell it was. He kicks some sand at it, knowing it could be rigged with explosives, but nothing happens. He grabs the envelope and opens it facing away from his face, as it could release a toxic gas when unsealed. But it appeared to be what it was: an envelope. Crash takes out the content within: a Polaroid. What it pictured puzzled the bandicoot: it showed a grey brick wall, with 6 metal pieces attached to it. The way they were arranged was weird: 4 of them, smaller formed a lozenge, and inside the diamond shape were two larger metal panels side-by-side. But it was what was inside those panels that made the bandicoot start panicking.

With the exception of the lone piece on the third row, which only had two holes in it, all the other panels had what appeared to be… feet sticking out of them. And not human feet, mind you, they clearly belonged to animals. But the most alarming part was what was being done to those paws: as if it wasn’t weird enough that the panels just had feet seemingly detached from the rest of their bodies coming out of them, it seemed that they were being targeted by… random objects. Hairbrushes, electric toothbrushes, some fluffy cylinders that Crash thought were smaller versions of those car-washing giant rotating brushes, and what looked like lasers coming out of holes in the wall. The bandicoot had no idea why the feet were being subjected to these random tools, or what their effects were on the soles, but he sure didn’t want to find out.

However, the feet’s treatment became secondary the moment Crash stared harder and began to see the details of those paws. On the first row, from the single panel, were the only pair of paws that didn’t look furred. The limbs instead certainly came from a reptilian of sorts, noticeable from the pink leathery soles and brown tops. It didn’t take long for the bandicoot to recognize their owners: Dingodile. But there was no way that powerful, unbreakable man could have been captured. Defeated, maybe, Crash himself had done that before, but the bandicoot doubted heavily anything could hold him down, Dingodile’s strength was incredible. And the hero had just visited him last week… but those feet were unmistakably his; big and meaty, and both currently being attacked by one of the spinning brushes, as well as a hairbrush in his right sole, and a pretty orange-yellow feather between his left fat toes.

Crash gulped and looked at the second row, which had 4 metal plates and 4 pair of paws. The rightmost and leftmost were both instantly recognized by the bandicoot: the former was Koala Kong’s and the leftmost Ripper Roo’s. Both men went barefoot all the time, and thus the hero could easily tell the owners of those paws. Koala’s paws were 3-toed, clawless, fluffy, padless, with the sole fur being an off-white color in contrast with the grey tops. Despite his immense size, his paws were only average sized. And yet, the tools on his feet certainly found enough place to do their job: a single spinning brush on his right foot, over his arches, a hairbrush targeting the ball of his left paw, and an electric toothbrush targeting the toes of the same foot.

On the opposite end, Ripper’s paws were the smallest of all the ones in the picture. Yet, they were huge for someone as short as him, the opposite of Koala. His slim paws were similarly 3-toed, padless and fluffy, but had black claws, and were blue instead of grey, though the soles were lighter than the tops. Ripper’s right foot had a hairbrush over its arch and ball, and a toothbrush between his toes. And his left foot had one of the lasers pointing at it. Crash began to question how these tools were seemingly floating in midair, but that wasn’t important right now. He hadn’t spoken to those two in a while, both had stopped working for Neo Cortex a long time ago, but hadn’t become buddies with Crash either, both just went on their own paths. The bandicoot wondered for how long they have been in captivity.

Then, Crash’s eyes are drawn to the two planes in the center, containing the largest and widest feet of the picture (which one was the champion was up to anyone). In the left, was a pair that was unrecognizable to the bandicoot at first. The feet were very large, muscular, with three toes, claws, and gigantic black paw pads on the heels, toes and in the balls of the feet. The fur, which Crash could barely see, was an yellowish orange. A wide spinning brush was attacking both of this person’s arches, while a hairbrush was dragged through the center paw pad of his left foot, and two lasers were aimed at his right one.

Crash thought deep and hard at who this pair could belong to (and getting a little embarrassed at having to think about other people’s feet so much), and a lightbulb lit up his head as he hypothesized the soles could belong to Tiny Tiger. The thylacine was large enough that the pair of feet would fit him, and considering his species, the characteristics of the paws would fit the marsupial. But since he wore shoes, like Crash, it was only a theory. Tiny was still working for Cortex after all this time, so he, like Ripper and Koala, could’ve been captured a long time ago and Crash wouldn’t know.

In the right, though, was a pair that made the bandicoot’s heart skip a beat when he recognized: his former-enemy-turned-foster-older-brother Crunch. The hero almost fell to his knees when he realized that such an important person to him had been made victim to whoever this fiend was. Crunch, like Crash and Tiny, wore hefty boots almost all the time, but owing to him living together with Crash for some time now, the smaller bandicoot had gotten a few glances at how Crunch’s feet looked on the rare occasion he took his boots off. So the hero knew that the large soles in the center right, with a light maroon coloring, 3 toed and clawed, with black paw pads on the toes and balls of the feet belonged to his bro. His chest ached at the tools working on Crunch: a spinning brush across his bigger paw pads, a hairbrush on his right foot’s arch and heel, a toothbrush on his left foot’s heel, and two lasers on both paws. His feet were easily the most tortured of the 5.

Crash started to panic. If that photo was true, he was in big trouble. Whoever this foe was, had managed to capture some incredibly strong men, and somehow trap them in whatever thing this wall was, their vulnerable feet being displayed like trophies and seemingly tortured somehow. The bandicoot also had no idea of who the fiend could be. The captured victims had 2 of his allies, sure, but also had two neutral parties and Cortex’s most loyal henchman. All of this smelled fishy as hell, and it wasn’t just the shore. Crash almost started sprinting back to the shore, to contact Tawna, Coco or Aku Aku, as all 3 were currently out traveling. But before he can even do that, he suddenly noticed the back of the Polaroid had something written on it.

“You have 5 hours to get to this location, with no one else. Attempt anything, and you’ll never see Crunch again. 65°54'43"S 134°45'46"E”

———

According to his GPS, the place was to the very south of the Wumpa Islands, on the Antarctica shore. He borrows one of Coco’s boats and headed off there as fast as he could. When Crash got close to the final location, almost freezing with the polar climate, he hops off the vehicle and starts to search. And then… nothing. Just endless white as far as the eye could see. But when he stood on the exact spot that the coordinates pointed to… he heard the sound of metal beneath. Pushing away the snow, the bandicoot sees a hatch hidden beneath the surface. Carefully opening it, Crash sees nothing but darkness and some ladders going down into the abyss. His danger senses were tingling hard, and he knew it was all but a trap… but there was nothing he could do but move forward at this point. The hero starts descending.

The darkness spread for ages, it seemed. This hole was deep, and Crash wondered how this foe had managed to drill so much without being noticed. Eventually, however, he hits the ground. As soon as he touches the floor, lights start turning on, temporarily blinding the marsupial. When his eyes adjust to the bright, he sees a wide glass panel in front of him, and behind it, the wall of feet from the Polaroid. In person, it was even more frightening than captured on a paper: the men’s poor feet wiggled around all over, while the tools were indeed floating in midair, as if being held by a ghost. The spinning brushes rolled with terrible speed, while the lasers kept moving all over the soles. And it only got worse when the glass panel suddenly shot up, ending the barrier between Crash and the wall. Now the bandicoot could actually hear what was happening in the room.

A horrific, desperate laughter bounced off the grey walls, decidedly drowning the sound of the tools. Deep, resonant cackles and screams, along with a higher pitched crazed one which Crash assumed came from Ripper. And now, it was all to horribly clear what those tools were doing to the men. They were tickling them. Crash actually had never been tickled before. He didn’t even know if he was ticklish himself. He didn’t even know it was possible for anthros to feel it, the bandicoot assumed it was exclusive to humans. But he knew what it was, and how people usually reacted to it. But he never expected it to be used… like this, to what looked like torture against the anthros. Why that, of all things? This was weird, and Crash had to get those men out of their captivity as soon as possible.

He runs to Crunch’s panel, the older bandicoot’s paws attacked by all kinds of tools. The marsupial tries to pull the plate back, to no avail, and then tries to swat off the tools tickling Crunch. It was in this moment of panic that he felt a jab at his back. Turning around, Crash sees a hole had opened on the wall behind him, which was quickly closing. Reaching for his back, the bandicoot pulls out a thing. A dart. Probably filled with tranquilizer. The next thing he sees is the ground nearing his face, before passing out entirely.

---

It turned out the bottom panel was meant for Crash. He knew this because the feed above his face was showing the wall of feet, and where there were holes in the Polaroid, now had Crash’s own plump paws poking out of. 3-toed, cream colored soles, and brownish red paw pads on the same places as the other bandicoot (though Crash’s pads covered more of his toes than Crunch’s did). He also knew what the inside of the wall looked like: a sort of pod, not too dissimilar from the ones back in Cortex’s lab, but with a technology clearly more advance. The bandicoot’s wrists were cuffed above his head on the floor of the pod. The cuffs weren’t metal, instead they were made of some weird rubbery substance that allowed some stretching. This was good, since it wouldn’t hurt Crash’s wrists when he started struggling.

Because oh boy was he struggling, twisting and turning. A 3rd thing the bandicoot learned was that he, indeed, was ticklish. He had previously had some trouble imagining how a sensation by itself could make you laugh, and now the marsupial wished more than anything he never got to find that out. On his soles, the spinning brushes were rolling on his left paw arch while the floating hairbrush dragged its bristles on the main paw pad of his right foot. He had less tools than anyone else in the wall so far and yet Crash couldn’t imagine laughing even harder than he was now. It was like nothing he had ever felt, as if the tools were stimulating the nerves directly. It wasn’t pain, but analogous to it, a sensation so agonizing it could only be described as torture. His laughter reverberated on the pod, but he couldn’t hear the others now, weirdly enough.

After a while, the bandicoot began to tire of struggling so much. It was more of his body’s natural instincts than himself at this point, since Crash knew that if Tiny Tiger and Crunch couldn’t break free, he stood no chance himself. His only hope was that his remaining allies somehow found his location and rescued him. Yet he despaired at the unlikely possibility of that. But for now, he was just another pair of tortured paws on that wall, a twisted decoration for a villain he didn’t know and couldn’t possibly comprehend. And yet, Crash was cursing someone else even harder than his captor.

Why the hell did Neo Cortex make his creations ticklish?