"We're in, we're in!"

The camera rattled on Josh's shoulder as he quickly made his way past the back door, following the short, pudgy minx holding the microphone. Heather turned around, facing the camera, and the lanky pitbull stopped in his tracks, straightening his view as his colleague brought the microphone close to her face, after adjusting her purple blouse.

"This is Heather Simms for FMZ, and we have just snuck in the back of the Palace Hall, where everyone's favorite new act, The Fluffspring, have just performed. People are still clapping and we are hoping to get some good candid shots of the band right after their performance! Come on!"

The paparazzi and her cameraman quickly scampered down the hallways, as the loud, thunderous applause got louder and louder. The stage was getting close. Heather's heart was thumping. She was very eager to record the images that would likely propel her into virality. The Fluffspring had rocketed onto the music scene like an atomic bomb, leaving no one indifferent. 4 members, classic rock instruments, with a mix of styles that carried their songs from the punk charts all the way to the top 40. 5 singles had been dropped overnight, all with self-produced music videos, and the crowd had gone wild for every single one of them. 6 months after, they were touring the world and selling out arenas. They weren't just stars, they were SUNS, burning their mark at the forefront of the public's mind.

The backstage area was oddly devoid of staff, despite this being a huge show. The band did most of their setup themselves, did their own soundcheck, and only employed a couple of roadies. Despite making a killing financially, they still mostly acted like a garage band... another reason people warmed up to them so fast.

As the FMZ employees were progressing through the hallway, thankfully crossing no one, the band had started playing again, for what seemed like their 4th encore. Heather was biting her nails. if they were found out before the band left the stage, she could say goodbye to her juicy clips, and she'd be ridiculed by her colleagues.

After what seemed like the longest 4 minutes of Heather's life, the music finally stopped. The crowd echoed their previous roaring outbursts, but there was no stopping the band this time. They were done. The reporter and her cameraman heard the band's frontwoman Toki wishing everyone a goodnight (in very vulgar terms) and they braced themselves for when the band would walk off. Hiding themselves in a corner, they let them pass first - shots of a band getting off stage was boring; what was interesting was what happened 10 minutes after

The bassist was out first, trotting quickly on his hooves. His name was Stripes but he was trying to make everyone call him GT - and despite the band's popularity, it was not catching up. Burden of being "just" the bassist.

The guitarist was out next. The oldest of the group, as well as the tallest and fittest, Ian was known for both his incredible skill, as well as for being the only band member with a twitter feed coherent enough to get some actual band news. Toki's twitter feed was long dead, and the other two were mostly a long series of offensive memes.

Cleave was out next, the drummer holding his sticks in one paw and a can of Red Bull in the other - obviously he had no plans about going to bed any time soon. The red-furred bat was a self-professed "drum retard", and the other band members often joked about having found him in a dumpster.

Toki was the last one out, and she was closely followed by a bespectacled young mouse girl holding a tablet, likely her assistant. Heather made her first mistake by assuming nothing interesting happened before the changing cabins. The punk-looking bunny suddenly turned her assistant around, pressing her into the wall and kissing her deeply, both of them letting out sensual moans. "Oh shit! Josh, film this!" she whispered in a panic, but it was already over. Toki had broken the kiss and disappeared through the same door as her bandmates, leaving the mouse gasping softly, blushing and readjusting her glasses.

"Fuck!" the minx exclaimed as the door closed behind the mouse. Hurrying the cameraman in her wake, she moved close to the door, putting her paw on the handle, testing it. It was unlocked. "Get ready," she told the camera-holding pitbull, who silently nodded. Taking a deep breath, Heather pushed the door open, and the two papparazzo sneaked inside.

Walking around misplaced costume racks and abandoned sound equipment, Josh pushed his camera's objective between two long overcoats while Heather peeped from the side. Cleave was alone, sitting at a table with his legs extended over it, the red-furred bat holding a bottle of tequila in vertical position, the opening screwed through his lips. His throat went up and a down a few times before he pulled off with a loud sigh. He then bit right into a thick lemon slice before a thunderous burp sent the citrus flying several feet away on the floor. "My god," the minx whispered as the drummer lifted the bottle back up. "I cannot even watch this. Let's come back later to check if we can get some vomit action," she whispered, her cameraman wincing a little. "I can't believe you actually said that."

Sneaking past the drunken bat wasn't hard. Heather was mostly homing in on the thought of catching the lead singer in an intimate moment with another woman.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

The two FMZ employees froze in their tracks, slowly turning their pale faces around, noticing the band's bassist standing there. Stripes was still wearing his stage outfit, including the ridiculously large spiked collar he miraculously kept from destroying anything (or anyone) during the show. The vaguely goth, slim stallion's eyes moved back and forth, before he grinned, waving his finger at Josh, the pitbull carefully turning his camera towards the zebra. "Allright... The press is always gushing over Toki or Ian, now I get my private screening. You want me to show you around?" he said, grinning broadly, amused at how dumbfounded the minx and dog were. He took a few steps back, putting his paw on a door's handle, signaling to the cameraman to focus.

"There you go! Everyone's new idol!" the zebra exclaimed as he opened the door, revealing the next room, where the mouse assistant was laid down across a make-up counter, with Toki taking bodyshots off her naked chest. Turning around with a shotglass still in her muzzle, the bunnygirl furiously looked at the newcomers, spitting the glass on the floor as the mouse squeaked, wrapping her arms around her bare breasts. "Stripes! What the living FUCK are you doing??" Toki exclaimed.

"These nice journalists are here to document our glamorous life! Be thankful!" Stripes mused back, while the lead singer was already grabbing everything she could get her hands on, pelting it at her bandmate, as well as at the two unwelcomed guests. The zebra casually dodged them, looking used to it, but Heather received a half-open bottle of hair cream across herblouse, messing it up with a a white substance that would likely make her colleague crack lame sex jokes. As they ran right back the door, Toki on their heels, Stripes laughing outloud. Running through the first room, they elicted a strange "Bwuuhh?" sound from the sprawled out, intoxicated bat. The minx found the first unlocked door she could, forcing herself through it and almost tripping over as they ran into the last member of the band.

"Oh, classic. Make sure to take all the nasty shots you need," the zebra said as he struggled with Toki in the doorframe, trying to keep her from smashing her bottle of vodka on his head. Piled up on a bed that had been set up in a room otherwise used for costume changes were the band's guitarist, Ian, and three groupies, all of them fully naked and grinding together. The tall, fit skunk was busy swapping kisses with two young, attractive females (a panda and a vixen), while a third groupie, feline, slim and definitely male, was busy worshipping the skunk's big, hard...

"Jesus!" Heather exclaimed as she witnessed the scene, facing the biggest scoop of her career and being completely intimidated by how easy it had all been. She didn't need to tell Josh anything, the cameraman already filming every bit of the skunk caressing both females' arched backs, and rolling his hips against the catboy's face. Breaking the kiss, he glanced over at his public, arching an eyebrow and letting the corner of his mouth perk smugly. "You gotta take a number, you know... I can only handle so many at a time."

As the skunk got busy again with his fans, the zebra forced himself back in front of the camera, grinning as he pulled out the finger pistols. "There you have it, folks, the Fluffspring! It's good music, as well as sex, depravity, and a fuckton of swear words!"

Josh suddenly froze, his face flushing as he suddenly felt something wet hitting his leg. He heard Heather squeal, and slowly turned his head, soon facing Cleave, the highly inebriated bat wobbling left and right, eyes dazed, dick out and pissing all over the dog's pants. He smirked, keeping on liberally coating the cameraman's pants.

"So, you gonna party with us or what?... retardation is celebration, man."

The biggest band on the planet.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

ART BY  gnaw

STORY AND STRIPES THE BASS-ZEBRA:  stripes

CLEAVE THE DRUNK DRUMMER:  shadow_fanatic

IAN THE GOTH GUITARIST:  gothicskunk

TOKI THE PUNK-SIGNER: ME