Got Talent? - Part 1: Tag-Team Audition Edition (Pixiv Fanbox)

Based on an idea suggested by @dragonman.net with this chapter utilizing ideas from @worrizthewolff and @nekonekodiamata.

- Day 2 Day Donovan

Contains: Underwear, Knockouts, Wedgies, and Spankings

Toya belongs to Dragonman.net.

---

The bell above the door jingled as our boy, Donovan the Raccoon, stumbled into Brevity Brew, the local coffee shop that mostly served jittery artists and bored students. His eyes darted around until they locked onto a familiar tuft of fluffy white hair. Vergil the Koala was already there, seated at a booth near the window, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the table while sipping something iced and caramelized.

“Vergil!” Donovan called, nearly dropping his phone as he scurried over. “You’re not gonna believe this!”

Vergil raised an eyebrow and tilted his drink. “Morning to you too, Doofy.”

Donovan flopped into the booth across from him, panting dramatically like he’d just run a marathon despite the fact that Brevity Brew was just two blocks from his apartment. He fished around in the front pouch of his hoodie, pulled out a crumpled flyer, and slammed it on the table like he was presenting a treasure map.

“Boom. I got me a lead on a case.”

Vergil raised a brow.

Donovan snorted and shook his head. “Okay not really. That was a joke. Just–just read the thing.”

Vergil leaned forward, squinting. “Mobius’s Got Talent: Tag-Team Edition... auditions open this weekend? That some kind of prank show? I heard Mobius was the name some theory conspiracists thought that Earth was called or something. Why’d they name it after that? This has to be a prank.”

“No, dude, it’s the real deal!” Donovan grinned, his whole face lit up like a kid in a candy store. “If we win, aw hell, even if we just impress the right people, we could get our own show. Like, actual TV stardom. Lights. Cameras. Our names in the credits!”

Vergil blinked, unimpressed. “Ah. The TV stardom crusade again eh? Considering your luck, cameras would be the thing I’d want around me the least.”

Donovan lightly blushed and glanced to the side before shifting his meager gaze back at Vergil “Oh like your luck’s any better?”

Vergil sipped hastily from his caramel frappe, eyes closed in a distinguished manner. “Exactly. So now we BOTH have a reason not to take this risk.”

Donovan frowned. “You don’t want to?”

Vergil smiled and shrugged. “Sure. I’m game. It’s just… well you know. When we get embarrassed it tends to take a while for the sting to wear off. I’m cautious is all.”

“I’m cautious too! Just, you know, cautiously optimistic.” Donovan smirked, leaning forward with a cute gleam in his teeth.

“Heh. I guess one of us has to be,” Vergil smiled. “Oh. What about your boyfriend? Manic? Did you ask him or–?”

“Nah. He’s all over the place in terms of stuff he’s doing. When I met him and uh… courted him to my side I wasn’t aware that he uh… doubled life as a thief.” He whispered that part of course.

“Yeah, your life is already brimming with danger,” Vergil snickered. “I suppose if you become a TV bigshot, bailing him out of jail should he ever get caught would be a lot easier.”

Donovan sighs. “He gets caught every time he ends up competing with that Rouge the Bat girl you know? I understand he wants to win a rivalry but can he not try to push it with such a dangerous job. My wallet cries every time I get a call from the prison about bail…”

Vergil laughed. Before they knew it they had slunk into conversation about something else entirely. It was amazing how easy it was to talk to him. “... This really means a lot to you huh? Honestly, it still surprises me how much you need to be a big TV personality sometimes.”

“I don’t need to be one. But, y’know... I wouldn’t mind being ‘That funny guy from TV’ instead of ‘That raccoon who dropped a customer’s pizza and slipped in the sauce trying to pick it up.’” He gave a sheepish grin. “It’s like ‘Oh! Hey! It’s Donovan! What undies does he have on today? I bet he’ll show us soon!’ and then slip, fall, duuuh-ooi!” Donovan made a cross-eyed face with his tongue out that made Vergil giggle. “Besides, tell me you wouldn’t want a shot at making people laugh every day but like in the correct way where they laugh with you and not at you.”

Vergil opened his mouth to reply, but something else caught his eye. Or, more accurately, caught everyone’s eye.

With all the enthusiasm of a Saturday morning cartoon, Donovan had leapt to his feet and raised a triumphant fist. “We’re gonna blow their socks off!”

Unfortunately, his enthusiasm had outpaced his awareness. In his excitement, he hadn’t noticed the loose drawstring on his sweatpants, which sagged suddenly around his ankles with a soft fwump.

There was a full beat of silence.

Donovan froze in mid-celebration, now standing in the middle of Brevity Brew wearing nothing but his Transformers-themed briefs, white with blue trim, covered in little running proud Optimus Primes and the Megatrons on them.

A slow, rosy blush crept across his cheeks.

“Oh. Oh no.”

A barista giggled behind the counter. Someone near the espresso machine actually clapped.

Vergil sipped his drink, completely unfazed. “Yep. That’ll be great for TV.”

Donovan yanked his pants back up in a blur and plopped into the booth, burying his face in his arms. “Kill me. Just kill me.”

“Nah. I don’t feel like killing ya,” Vergil said. “But I might have to sign us up now. You’ve already got a brand: 'Underdog Embarrassment.'”

Donovan peeked up. “Wait… so you ARE in?”

Vergil leaned back and looked out the window, giving it a long, theatrical pause. Then he nodded. “Yes, for the second time, I’m in. Why not? Could be fun to try something new. And I’ve already got the guitar skills.”

Donovan perked up instantly. “Yes! Yes yes yes! I knew you’d say yes!”

But then–!

“Ahem.”

A new voice cut in.

They both looked up to see a tall black cat standing by their booth, arms crossed, bright yellow eyes focused like a laser. He wore a black hoodie with a glowing blue emblem, headphones resting against his neck. It was Hitbox the Bombay, local streamer and part-time annoyance.

“Are you two trying out for Mobius’s Got Talent?”

Donovan tilted his head. “Yeah. What’s it to you?”

Hitbox smirked. “Then you should know... I already signed up. And I’ve got a partner. We’re gonna dominate.”

He pulled out his phone and turned it to them. He showed them another animal, a striped tiger, a bit of a rough look with squinty eyes, like he wasn’t expecting his picture to be taken. “Me and Toya are unbeatable.”

Vergil raised a brow. “That’s adorable. Do you do birthday parties too?”

Hitbox narrowed his eyes. “Just don’t get your hopes up, Koala Rump. We’ve already got a fanbase. You two? Well, you’ve got an audience I guess but underwear typically isn’t supposed to be shown off.” He said, turning to leave.

“Yeah sure. Thanks for the advice Baby-box.” Vergil called back.

Hitbox froze and a shiver traveled down his spine. He blushed and growled, leering back at them.

Donovan waved the flyer in his hand. “Oh I’m sorry. Did I touch a nerve? Guess we’ll just have to outshine you with pure heart next time instead of cold, hard facts. Oh! Maybe we can wow them from the start by doing something insane! Like juggle fire!”

Vergil stared. “We are not juggling fire.”

“Okay, okay! Juggling rubber chickens! That counts as a talent, right?”

Hitbox rolled his eyes. “You clowns are gonna get laughed off the stage.”

Donovan grinned. “Perfect. That’s the plan.”

Hitbox scoffed and walked off but not before muttering something about “upgrading his memes” and “roasting these fools online later.”

Vergil watched him go, then turned back to Donovan. “You sure about this?”

Donovan’s expression softened. “Yeah. I mean, this could be it, y’know? Our big moment. Or just another mess. But either way, I’d rather screw up onstage with you than not try at all.”

Vergil smiled faintly. “Then we better start practicing.”

Donovan stood and posed dramatically. “To stardom, baby!”

And then he got up, tripped over his own feet, and fell face-first into a bundle of someone’s dropped apple pie. His butt wiggled as he moaned into it.

Vergil sighed. “Yep. TV. We’re so ready.”

—

MOBIUS' GOT TALENT STAGE – LIVE SHOW

—

The massive studio was ablaze with lights, glitter, cheering fans, and high-octane music. A giant golden “FINALISTS” banner shimmered overhead as the two remaining teams stood under twin spotlights.

On the left: Donovan and Vergil. They had nervous smiles, awkward matching jackets, and there was one slowly unraveling microphone cord hanging off Donovan’s belt.

On the right: Hitbox and Toya. They sat in cool poses, arms crossed, looking determined… though Toya’s tail seemed to flick nervously.

At center stage, stepping forward with confident, dramatic grace, was the host: a tall, fluffy white goat in a pinstripe suit. His eyes sparkled like a man who knew all the secrets of everyone on set.

Hermes Vermillion. Rich boy. Sometimes suave, sometimes not. Slightly airheaded. Dangerously oblivious to privacy.

He adjusted his tie, flashed a charming grin to the camera, and turned to the audience.

“Welcome, Mobians, to the FINAL ROUND of Mobius’s Got Talent: Tag-Team Edition! I’m your host, Hermes Vermillion – your guide on this elegant journey of style, grace…” He snapped his fingers, and confetti launched out behind him, followed by two pies smacking his own assistants in the face. “...and total televised humiliation.”

Donovan gulped. Vergil subtly slid a step behind him.

Hermes turned smoothly toward the finalists bouncing slightly on his chair and looking over at the couches they were sitting on. “Now, before we move on to the final competition, let’s hear from our fabulous final two duos! Gentlemen, what was your journey to the top like?”

The spotlight hit Donovan.

He grinned, pointing at the camera. “Well, it wasn’t easy, but Vergil and I just clicked. The chemistry was undeniable. We pulled off flawless acts and wowed the judges every round. One time I even juggled lit torches blindfolded!”

Vergil chimed in with a strum of his air-guitar. “I rewired a vending machine mid-performance and turned it into a fog machine. For the vibes.”

“Applause track plays.”

Hermes gave a polite nod, then turned to Team Hitbox.

Hitbox raised his chin. “No surprise we made it. I out-strategized every act before us. Crowd control, visual flow, power-pacing… I optimized our path to the top.”

Toya, trying to sound cool, added, “Yeah. We crushed it. We had a plan. We stuck to it. We weren’t just better, we were legendary.”

Hermes clapped once. “Wonderful. Truly inspirational.”

Then he turned to the audience with a smirk.

“…Except none of that happened.”

The lights dimmed. The giant LED screen behind them flickered on.

“Hermes’s Home Video Highlights – The Truth Behind the Talent”

Donovan’s ears shot up. Hitbox muttered “What the heck?” Toya started sweating. Vergil quietly turned pale.

“Here’s an exploit from our favorite raccoon boy!” Hermes said with his hand out.

FIRST CLIP: DONOVAN.

He’s running across the stage with flaming batons… and then trips on his own shoelace. The torches land safely but his pants don’t. They’re caught mid-air on a coat hook, yanked clean off, leaving him in a pair of Flash superhero briefs. He scrambles in panic before sliding face-first into a custard pie… then butt-first into another one.

Back in present time, the audience howled with laughter. Donovan turned cherry red.

“I told them to edit that out,” he muttered.

“You’re not in charge though,” Hermes giggled. “Next, your opponent.”

“Heh?” Hitbox perked up.

SECOND CLIP: HITBOX.

He’s on stage doing a VR rhythm game. Mid-performance, a kid in the audience throws a banana peel on stage and he slips, flips backwards, and lands crotch-up into a camera rig. The elastic of his gaming-themed briefs snaps into view. A slow-mo shot replays the exact moment the wedgie lands.

He got caught on the rig and was hanging upside down in a wedgie, screaming, crying, and waving his hands about. The more his undies stretched, the more of his butt got shown off. Eventually he slipped out of his pants and underwear and slammed on the stage, legs spread.

In real time, on the couch, Hitbox sat perfectly still, his expression deadpan.

“…I was never a fan of bananas.”

“Don’t worry,” Hermes said with a smile. “Your partner Toya also has a few foibles of his own. Here’s a favorite of ours.”

Toya bit his lip, clenching his wrists as he remained cross-armed.

THIRD CLIP: TOYA.

Toya was bravely trying to impress the crowd with a superhero monologue during a speech giving segment done to determine hosting skills. The theme was using superheroes as a backdrop for it so he had to dress appropriately for the occasion. He was doing alright when suddenly the wire holding his cape yanked too tight, catching his pants. They slip down as he’s in his mid “Justice will ALWAYS triumph!” reveal. His Wonder Under Pants (covered in red and gold stars) are framed perfectly as he fumbles off the rig and bounces off the judge’s table… and into a toddler’s lap.

They found his bouncy butt funny to look at and spanked him three times while giggling. The jumbotron captured the image and people were very into it.

Back on stage, Toya trembled, teeth clenched. His ears drooped. “They promised... they promised the cape test was safe…”

Hitbox elbowed him. “You still did better than I did.”

“Poor babuuuu~!” Vergil giggled and waved cheekily at Hitbox.

“Yup. Poor you too,” Hermes smiled at Vergil who flinched.

FOURTH CLIP: VERGIL.

Vergil’s solo act was going smoothly until the drumset he wired earlier exploded in a puff of smoke, launching him backwards through the stage curtain. He ends up pressed against the greenroom window, sliding down it butt-first, pantsless, streaking the glass like a cartoon. His underoos (electric blue with guitars) take center stage.

The clip ends with him landing in a flower vase, his jiggly butt sticking out.

Back in present time, Vergil just slowly sank into his jacket collar.

“I had a cool solo. Before the smoke bomb misfired. It was still better than whatever they were doing…”

“Oh you guys,” Hermes smiled. “So fun.” He said pointing to the screen.

The four of them, Donovan, Vergil, Hitbox, and Toya get into a backstage spat over who was funnier… which devolved into a prank war. Hitbox gets pied. Donovan gets wedgied. Toya gets tackled into a kiddie pool. Vergil gets spanked by an angry Hitbox after kicking the gamer cat in the butt-box.

Everyone winced.

Hermes clapped cheerfully. “Ahhh, what fun! Such natural, raw talent. Truly unforgettable.”

The four finalists sat in a silent line across the couch, mortified, cheeks glowing, one or two pants noticeably tighter around the waist after that reel.

Hermes, oblivious, stepped forward and lifted the mic. “And now… with the wonderful finalists primed and ready, it’s time for the Final Round! Let the greatest, most exciting showdown in Mobius’s Got Talent history… BEGIN!”

The lights flared. The crowd erupted. The stage began to transform behind them into something enormous, dangerous, and way too sparkly.

Donovan blinked. “... Wow. It’s so majestic.”

Vergil groaned. “Yep. I can feel the whimsy alright.”

Toya narrowed his eyes. “...This is my nightmare.”

Hitbox adjusted his headset, grumbling. “Let’s win this before they start firing us out of a diaper cannon or something.”