“So this is it?”

The man was staring up at a blinking neon sign.

“Yep. Don’t get fooled by the exterior. It’s got built in filters. You’ll see what I mean once you’re inside.”

“Can I go inside?”

“Anyone can. Like that song from The Eagles though, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

“The Eagles? Are you trying to be funny? What next, song quotes from the Beatles and the Byrds?”

“Maybe. I’m just warning you before you go in. Some people get hooked and that’s all she wrote.”

            “Who’s she?”

            “I was speaking metaphorically, but there are any number of females to be found inside.”

            “Hmm. Hardly sounds like a haven for them.”

             “Not as bad as you think. There is a certain anonymity involved in this.”

             “Well, I guess I’ll never know until I go inside.”

              He grabbed hold of the handle and pulled. He was assaulted at once with a plethora of overtaxing stimuli that nearly knocked him to the ground. His friend held him upright and whispered in his ear.

                He steeled himself and straightened his back.

                “That was a little unsettling. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

                He pushed himself through the portal and into a room of indeterminate proportions. His friend followed and closed the door.

                “Welcome to The Crass Menagerie!”

                Looking around showed a rather mishmash of odd-looking characters. They were of all sizes, colors, species and sexes, though there were many odd details about all of them. Off in the distance it looked like there were additional rooms marked by signs.

                The walls were decorated with artwork, some simplistic and some of the finest detail. Even as he watched, some of it shifted around the walls, trading places with others.

                “Hey, what gives?”

                His friend chuckled.

                “Rankings. As pieces receive more attention and get promoted, they get to better positions.”

                “Weird.”

                “No, not really. There is a lot of material coming through, and it can’t stay up any longer than a set amount of time.”

                “What happens then?”

                “It fades to the back room, and then to the creator’s personal space.”

                “How much of it is there in total?”

                “Hell if I know. Thousands? Millions?”

                “Shit! I had no idea!”

                “Oh the stories you could read; the artwork you could peruse. Of course, everything here runs the gamut. Some of it is absolute pap. Some of it is pretty damned good. Music is much the same way.”

                “Music too?”

                “Yep.”

                “And this is all about sex?”

                “Hardly; though mostly. This is a gathering place for those who are socially awkward, though I doubt they would admit to it. Sort of like the Island of Misfit Toys from that old Rudolph movie.”

                “A gathering place for the broken and maligned?”

                “Broken-hearted maybe. I think broken is a little bit too harsh.”

                “This doesn’t seem to be a gathering place for normal people.”

                “First you have to define normal. Then maybe you can say that. It’s no worse than people gathering under the roof of a church, in my estimation. Praying to an imaginary being could be said to be just as bad as playing at imaginary games.”

                “Games?”

                “I told you there is a lot to this.”

Waving his hand to indicate the far back corner of the room, he continued.

“Back there are the forums, where anything and everything goes down, from news bulletins to role playing. Sometimes there isn’t much difference. Over there is the market, and the chat rooms are over yonder”

“Let me get this straight. People come here to be someone they’re not?”

“Often. Sometimes they come here to be who they really are. That might be even scarier.”

“The internet is a weird place. I didn’t think it was this weird.”

“This? Ehh. There are far worse places. For the most part, people keep their noses clean. If they don’t, they get banned.”

“Booted right off?”

“Nah. Slap on the wrist with escalating punishments as the need befits.”

“What if they’re into that sort of thing?”

“S and M? Not the same by any means. Though I do suppose that there is a similarity. If you dwell on this place and get kicked off, you’re going to be denied your fix. There’s probably something sadistic to handing out that punishment.”

“Is there any kink that isn’t here?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a list of them?”

“Ha ha. I mean, like everyone carries out their fantasies incognito, as animals?”

“That’s oversimplifying it. Not everyone is into kinks. Sometimes it’s associating with others behind a mask. The anonymity of it makes it easier for them to deal with social interaction. Sex is optional, though largely promoted.”

“Fake sex?”

“Yeah I guess, though it’s difficult to say what is happening on the real side of the computer screen.”

“You know, that’s kind of gross.”

“What? You’ve never wanked off before?”

“Sure, but to normal stuff.”

“You haven’t defined what that is yet. Not everyone has the same tastes.”

“So these people like doing it with animals?”

“Some do. Some as animals. Some just like the thrill of the art, and some like the tantalizing eroticism of the written word.”

“Huh! Who knew? So, this is all sort of disassociating yourself from who you are and immersing yourself into a fantasy world where anything goes?”

“Largely.”

“And who makes up this stuff?”

“The producers? There are hundreds upon hundreds of them.”

“How do you tell the good from the bad?”

“Bad? Good? That all depends on what you’re talking about. Take writing. Something can be well written and technically excellent, but if the subject is uninteresting, then it will not be popular. Something that is popular might be poorly written, but contain themes that appeal. The best of the best has both.”

“And artwork?”

“The same. It must appeal to a wide enough audience for it to get noticed. Writers, artists and musicians alike generally have specific viewers.”

He was looking around at all of the creatures occupying chairs, standing in corners, and coming and going in rapid succession.

“Examples?”

“Examples? Well, if you happen to be homosexual, you’re not likely to get moved by a hetero story or art, though nothing says you can’t. Hey, if you’re gay, you’re gay. Bisexuality, on the other hand, means you have twice the chance of getting a date on Friday night, and twice the chance you’ll find something on here you’ll like.”

“Show me.”

“Fine. Come on.”

He made his way to the bar, and they took unoccupied seats next to each other. The bar seemed automated, which was slightly odd. A voice came out of nowhere.

“Yes?”

“We’d like to look at the postings.”

“Member?”

“Yes.”

“Then login. Remember that what is visible to you is a matter of your personal settings”

The other man wrinkled his eyebrows.

“Settings?”

“Sure. Clean to extreme. If you don’t want to be bombarded with horses fucking foxes, or gay bears making love, you can adjust what comes across your screen.”

“Curious.”

“Not really. A lot of kinks don’t appeal to people. This allows them to filter them out.”

The man logged in and pulled up a screen from the bar.

“See. So if you like tigers, you punch in tigers and everything coded with that tag will come up. Then you can sort by art or story.”

“Music?”

“I guess so, though I don’t know what tiger music would be. I honestly don’t look for top fifty on here. I don’t expect to find Shakespeare or Bradbury, or Raphael or Titian, nor do I seek out Mozart or Brahms. But hey, a lot of decent stuff shows up if it’s what you happen to like.”

The screen was flipping through a myriad of images of striped felines, from feral and anatomically correct to anthropomorphically outré. Male on male, female on female, male on female, hermaphrodites, and a host of combinations that would make your head swim.

“Decent as in quality, not as in the opposite of turpitude, right?”

“If you’re looking for the foundations of morality here, you’re going to be looking for a long time. This place isn’t precisely immoral, but the standards are not equal to the uptight, pseudo-Christian nonsense everyone has to deal with on the outside world. Here it’s all made-up fantasy. Nothing happens online that has any physical effects. Not like in real life with molestations and rapes and such that occur because of forced repression of normal biological urges due to religious beliefs.”

“Sounds like you’ve been reading Freud.”

“Nah, just the forums. The exchanges there are highly enlightening. In fact I’m surprised that someone hasn’t used the fursona of Dali Llama just to show their wisdom.”

“Fursona?”

“Yeah. Persona modified phonetically to reflect the idea behind the site. Fur-sona.”

“Then all of these people have animals for their totem animal?”

“A bit. Some stick with being human. Some adopt animals readily recognizable, while others create their own hybrids. Others choose to use mythological beings and beasts from folklore.”

The man looked around at all of the variety, from wolves and coyotes to horses and other equines. There were winged horses and unicorns, pink ponies and macabre mules. Cats galore ambled about, as did rats, mice and hamsters. Bats and other oddities hung from the ceiling. Dragons preened and polished their scales, while misshapen trolls sharpened their daggers. So of the creatures were bent over, looking for a good time, while others scouted out the room for just the right partner.

“Egad! This is just too much!”

“That’s why you have to narrow your focus. Find what you like and ignore the rest.”

“How does a person do that?”

“Tags. They’re a bit annoying, but you punch in the name of something you like and see what comes up. If, for example, you want to find a story with wolves in it, and there has to be sex, then you put that in. If you get too many hits, you add identifiers until a story comes up that you think you want to read.”

“I get it! So who are the best authors?”

“We discussed this already. Quality writing does not equate with popularity. Still, you can find them easily enough on the front page.  From there, you can go and see what other material they have posted. Here. Let’s go to the Popular List.”

Pages of stories came up, with the most acclaimed ones for the week showing up at the top, with the rest trickling down to lesser and lesser numbers. The titles and content varied from one extreme to another, with a listing of key words accompanying them.

“People choose what they want to see or read depending largely on these identifiers. Some fans are stuck on specific producers, while some people can have a watch list encompassing hundreds.”

“Yikes! That would be a lot to follow!”

“Not always. No everyone makes a lot of stuff. Still, there can be loads to follow if you take on too much.”

“How much time do these people have?”

“Varies from person to person, obviously. Some seem to have too much time on their hands…paws…whatever.”

“Huh! Seems to be its own little world in here.”

“Something like that. The rules are different than a lot of places, but there are still rules.”

“Sounds confusing.”

“Not really. They’re pretty simple, and you can manage to bend them if you know how they work.”

“Don’t look at me. This is all a little overwhelming.”

“You get the hang of it eventually, if you stick it out. It’s not all that different than real life. It’s sort of a mimic of it, only immersed in make believe. Some users go through their entire time here keeping as low a profile as can be done. Others are loud, brash, disruptive and noisome.”

“Really? Why be that way?”

“Why? This place offers a mask to wear, but it only hides your real self in a physical form, not necessarily your inner self. Unless you have the innate ability to curb your normal behavior, this will often come through here due to the supposed anonymity.”

“Do you have any examples?”

“I’d tell you to head to the forums, but you’ll get lost in the tangle of threads.  You could hop on over to the moderation section. It’s where people who behave badly get their ban status posted.”

“How does one get banned?”

“Infractions. Being rude, disregarding the moderators, uploading inappropriate material; there are a number of offenses.”

“As open as this place seems to be, I find it hard that anyone here would have a need to be rude.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? It takes all kinds, and this place has just that. It’s got a following that’s worldwide.”

“Got any examples?”

“Probably hundreds. But one does come to mind. Let me look him up.”

He clicked away on the screen for a while, then motioned over to a certain area of the room. There was a table with a see through fursona sitting there, but clouded by seeming overlays of other images. 

“There is Scarlet Dog. Popular enough, but less than an ideal conversationalist.”

“Why is he see-through?”

“He’s not here at the moment. Your icon always remains. When he’s here, you can see him more solidly.”

“What is that haze around him?”

“That’s not a haze. He has numerous other fursonas he keeps for nefarious purposes. If those get banned, he still keeps his main account.”

“Why bother?”

“When you’re an ass, and you know the workings of this place, you know how to circumvent the rules.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Has he ever been banned?”

Fingers clicked away on the keyboard.

“Yep. Right here, for picking a fight with someone under his main account. Got a week for it.”

“Really? Is he that bad?”

“Not for me to say. Shall we see what he says about himself?”

“Sure?”

More clicking on the screen. He scanned the screen for a while.

“Here’s somethings. Makes me laugh every time I read it. I have great people skills, something the admin on this site are severely lacking in.”

“They can’t be that great if he got banned, right?”

“You can make your own assumptions. I’m saying nothing.”

“OK. What else?”

“The Orcaneer as all of my friends at the furparties here call him has taken over where the Dragoneer has left off and surpassed him.”

“Orcaneer? Dragoneer?”

“Fursonas of a sort, though he is comparing one to another. They refer to the owners of this and another site.”

“Fur parties?”

A shrug.

“People dressed up in fake fur costumes because they can’t deal with each other on a face to face basis.”

“Really?”

A chuckle.

“Who knows? I sure don’t. I’ve never been to one. No desire for it. Besides, those suits cost a lot of money.”

“But this guy can obviously afford it since he goes to parties a lot, right?”

“Sure…not. I mean, hell if I know, but he has this to say; Right now it’s everything I can do to keep my head above water financially.”

“So what? He squanders his money on superfluous garbage?”

“Not for me to say.”

“He doesn’t sound all that bad, outside of contradicting himself.”

“Oh, he can be pretty nasty when he wants to. I seem to recall a time he attacked several users, including a horse, an otter, and a cheetah all at once. Just plain foul and horrible to all the parties involved.”

“Oh. I guess it does take all kinds. I can see why he might have alternate accounts. Sort of like having evil minions to do his dirty work.”

“Agreed. Toxic Tablet, Cynical Sabre, and a host of other user names let him get away with shit few others would be allowed.”

“Curious. But he makes up only a small portion of the members?”

“Small is a good word for him. But as a general rule, yes, he does comprise a lesser portion of the membership here.”

“So what else is here?”

 “You only need to look.

“So, let’s say I want to read a story involving humans.”

“Humans are allowed, but not as a primary species. There are still a lot of stories with humans, because you have a lot of people fascinated with Pokemon, Digimon, and other related topics.”

“Oh, fanfics?”

“Yep. Stories and art alike.”

“Cool. So, like, people fucking their eevees?”

A few clicks on the keyboard brought up results.

“Wow. That’s sort of like bestiality?”

“Sure? I mean, it’s hard to consider it that when the animals in question aren’t even real to begin with, but however you wish to look at it.”

“You have a point. A human and anything that isn’t would probably be bestiality. Aliens?”

A few clicks brought up another list.

“Those too. Is there anything that isn’t on here?”

“Sure. Plenty. They ditched cubs in sexual situations, and underage humans are a no-no in the same way.”

“Makes sense I guess. But none of this is real right?”

“Define real. It’s all fiction, from the stories to the art. None of these creatures exist in the real world, for the most part. There are exceptions, especially when you enter the realm of the ferals.”

“Ferals?”

“There’s anthro horses, and then there are feral horses. The latter generally refer to real horses; four legs, eating grass, etc. The idea of wolves, lions, and other animals can be woven into the art and stories.”

More clicking on the keyboard. He peered over his friend’s shoulder.

“I see. Some of this still looks a little odd, but we’ll call that artistic license.”

“Sure. Call it what you want. I assume you’re getting the idea?”

“I think so. I can come here and just look without being a real participant?”

“Sure. That would make you a lurker.”

“Lurker?”

“Yeah, sort of a parasite. You take without giving anything back.”

“What could I possibly give? I’ve got no talent!”

“Votes and Faves. Comments. Participation with the producers. Sure, some of them might not be responsive to your input, but many are. If you like something, let them know. It doesn’t cost you a damn thing to do it.”

“But people don’t?”

“A lot of people don’t. There’s always an excuse. I mean, hey, I get that if you don’t like something, you’re not going to praise it. But if you do, then why not?”

“Do the producers get any money from it?”

“Like YouTube? No. You get fake internet points. You get numbers. You get status. All of which gets you nothing in the long run. Sure, some people do commissions for money. Others find this cash grab to be disgusting. Purists are such a pain in the ass at times, even if you can occasionally sympathize with them. Whatever. There’s a lot of petty jealousy here, as well as vanity and narcissism.”

“Again, just like in real life?”

“Yep. This is just a segment of society distilled down to its essence.”

“What about the intelligence level?”

“There is no IQ test to get in. How the hell should I know? Read the forums and make your own opinions. Just do us the favor of not expressing them.”

“Ha ha ha. Isn’t that the point of having them?”

A heavy sigh.

“Sure. Exactly. Just don’t expect anything there to change the world. Or other people’s minds.”

“So again, just like real life.”

“Pretty much.”

There was silence for a moment as the man looked around the room, trying to fathom the depths of the place. It was obvious there was a lot more to it than he had first supposed. It was worth investigating, even if there was the chance of encountering things that he had no interest it.

“Well?”

“I don’t know. I guess this will have to take fur-ther consideration.”

The entire room erupted into a unison of groans.