My Little Keksec: Friendship is an Angry Midget Rocking Up To Your Door and Punching Out Your Shit

by Dropbear

Rating: mature
Tags: Comedy, Human, Dark
Length: 4470

An uber L77T hacker pisses off God. So God sticks his attack dogs on him. Hue.

As many know, recently a script kiddy or group of them DDOS'd Fimfiction for a short period of time the other day, going by the name of 'Keksec'. Thanks to me suddenly having a lot of time on my hands and a few people suggesting the idea to me, I decided that a shitty fic was in order.

Warning, contains:

1. 'Hackers' getting punched by dragon-midgets.
2. Knighty
3. Myself as a god.
4. Characters that only my followers will really get
5. Unbelievable situations.
6. Airplanes. FROOOOOM!
7. Obscure referances.
8. Some not so obscure ones.
9. Jokes at the fandom's expense
10. A whole lot of self-deprecation for the pure keks.

So, yeah. Will be about 2-3 chapters, but here's the first one. This will be unpiblished due to lack of pone and it's pretty shit quality, but meh, if you want to share the link around then go for it.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-18 03:12:50 UTC

It Begins

Three O’clock in the morning, heater running overtime to deal with harsh Icelandic cold. A young man, fifteen years of age and going by the Twitter handle of ‘Keksec’, leaned back in his cheap computer chair while grabbing another fistful of doritos and wiping down his messy brown hair. A smile was wide on his pale-white face, his puberty-entering mind filled with mirth as cheesy-chip was shoved down his gullet.

“Those fucking horse-fuckers,” he laughed to himself. “Look at them, sperging out over their fucking pony website being down. What a fucking group of wastes of space.”

Minimising out of his twitter account filled with the flames of internet brony rage, his Call of Duty Ghosts background was visible for a brief second before he pulled up his scripts.

“Yep,” he nodded in approval, the automatic programs still running fine. “Such a great buy for five dollars, all I had to do was click and that was it.” Keksec sighed with bliss, before returning to his browser with plans to watch another episode of his favourite show, Sonic X. However, his twitter page caught his eye, a rather unusual message standing out from the tide of brony butthurt.

It was from an account named ‘TheChalmer’, the profile pic showing a slice of cheesecake on a plate.

TheChalmer @Keksec

So, I’ve kinda been ordered to ensure that you suffer, for some reason, and apparently it’s a message from God to boot. Sorry Kid, but orders are orders.

Then, another flurry of strange messages popped up on his page.

NotADrgn @TheChalmer, @Keksec

Wait, you also had a voice tell you to grab this guy?

MindGames @NotADrgn, @TheChalmer, @Keksec

You mean this ‘Keksec’ individual? I do believe that all four of us received the same instructions.

TheChalmer @Mindgames, @NotADrgn, @Keksec

Well, then where’s Elijah? I would have expected him to be on this thing first.

Scientist666 @TheChalmer, @NotADrgn, @Kecsec

Science be praised! Look at this ancient messaging system, modelled upon the sound certain avians create when seeking a mate! Fascinating, the way one must use the ‘@’ symbol and these bizarre ‘hashtags’. By the way, while we’re down there we must investigate this ‘#BeaverFever’, it seems like some kind of potent bioweapon.

NotADrgn @TheChalmer, @Mindgames, @Scientist666, @Keksec

Oh for fucks sakes guys, now you’ve gone and done it. Just… fuck, I’ll grab this mook and then we’ll figure it out later.

PissedOff, #Abductgate

The following messages from then on seemed to be the four devolving into a stupidly strange argument, Keksec going over the words in his head. Something about them seemed… odd.

Deciding to skip the Sonic episode, he closed out of his browser after making sure to log out of Twitter.

Not that he was scared or anything.

Scrambling into his bed, he made sure to pull the Disney Cars quilt over his head. Even in his Spiderman pyjamas, he could still feel a chill.

Sleep did not come easy for Keksec that night.

“Gah, don’t take me!”

Keksec shot up in his bed with a flail of his arms, a sweatstain on the sheets underneath him. Realising that he was in fact in his bed and not in some vengeful brony’s rape-dungeon, he took a few breaths to calm himself down.

“It was only a dream,” he sighed. “I bet those tweets weren’t even real.”

Sliding out of his bed, his feet hit the wooden floor and carried him towards his swivel chair. Despite his reassurances, the feeling of dread still tingled down his spine while his PC screensaver of a Sonic/Call of Duty crossover died out to reveal his scripting programs. All reported errors, Keksec shrugging it off. “Oh well, they did their job and everyone now fears the name of Keksec.”

With the newfound confidence he forgot about the previous threats, his twitter page loading up to reveal…

Nothing.

“The fuck…” he whispered, a large picture of an ornate skull with an eye on its forehead popping up instead of his expected brony-tears. Three letters were underneath the skull, below which scrolled a paragraph of text saying that his page had been taken over. “Who the fuck is the ‘ISA’, some kind of American FBI shit?”

He quickly scanned what few comments remained, mostly horse-fuckers celebrating and a few of them saying something about telling a dropbear about it. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Unfortunately, any further investigation of the matter was rudely cut off by the infernal screeching of his mother.

“I’m going to work now, Dear,” she called down through the basement door. “Your breakfast is on the table and your lunch is all packed. Have a good day at school!”

“Shut up Mom!” He yelled. “My Twitter’s been hacked!”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be all better by the time you get back home. See you later, Sweetie!”

With that, his mother left, Keksec able to hear the front door close behind her and the car start up outside. He scowled, having forgotten that today was a schoolday. While still a little unnerved by the previous evening’s threats, he had some major bragging to do to all of his classmates so it’d be stupid not to go.

“Shit,” he cursed while turning to his wardrobe. “I hope the stupid bitch made pancakes.”

Keksec shoved his Transformers Four lunchbox into his schoolbag, his breakfast plate left on the table where he had overturned it.

It had been waffles, not pancakes.

Pausing to wipe the crumbs off of his My Chemical Romance shirt and onto the floor, he pulled up his jeans before slinging the bag over his back. Keksec headed for the front door, wondering which lowly normal would call him ‘Autistic’ today. Reaching for the handle he paused when he heard the light knocks upon it.

‘Huh, must Stephan,’ he thought, smiling with the anticipation of telling his best friend of his amazing online deed. Swinging open the door, he froze despite the heavy leather jacket he was wearing.

Standing outside and staring at him, an orange dragon that was only as tall as his chest was tapping an armoured boot upon the snowy ground.

“Fucking finally,” the creature spoke with perfect English, although the accent sounded like an American from Boston. “Are you this fucking ‘Keksec’ guy?”

Understandably, Keksec was speechless. “I… uh… talking…”

“Fuck it,” the dragon snorted. “Good enough.”

With only that as warning, the midget lashed out and slammed him right in the dick with a metal fist. Keksec could have sworn that his balls popped under the force, and his already-small phallus seemed to be forced back inside of him. Lights flashing in his eyes, he collapsed down into the snow with his only thoughts being about the pain. Well, that and the armoured dragon-midget lining up a shot with his boot.

“God sends his regards,” the creature stated, before metal impacted Keksec’s face and he thankfully blacked out.

“Look at him, he’s just some stupid kid.” The voice held a slight english accent, and was the first thing he heard.

“Hey, don’t try and pretend that you haven’t killed children before, we all have.”

“I know, but still. Detonating a chemical weapon in a city is different to outright snatching a teenager on the way to school.”

“Chalmers, you are such a pansy some times.”

“Look Orthodox, just because I occasionally show some responsibility-“

Keksec’s head throbbed painfully, and he slowly opened his eyes to see where he was. The first thing he made out was a grey metal floor, then a chair bolted to the floor, then the handcuffs holding his legs to said chair. Aside from the argument occurring in front of him, he could also pick up the sound of what he assumed was jet-engines.

“Stop arguing, you two,” a third voice, this one sounding like a British manor owner. “You’re both making yourselves look like children, Besides, our guest has awoken.”Keksec only had a second to examine the black-armoured white guy and the midget, before a gently smiling black face filled his vison. “Good Morning, dear friend. My, what a conundrum we have, hmm?”

“The fuck you mean?” Keksec groggily asked, able to taste blood in his mouth. “What happened, where the fuck am I, who the fuck are you guys!?”

“My, the questions,” the black man sighed, before the dragon moved up.

“I’ll handle this James.” An orange hand with three claw-tipped fingers and a thumb was held up. “One, I kicked you in the head and broke your nose. Two, a plane that we stole from a nearby military base, currently being flown by Elijah. Three, we’re the guys that God told to find you, kidnap you, then make you suffer for ‘denying him his sweet changelingly-goodness and batpony-cuteness’.” The dragon’s voice lowered. “And don’t even bother asking me what the fuck that means, cause I don’t know.”

“Hang on a tick.”

Keksec watched as the dragon turned around, facing the white guy who was rubbing his chin in thought. “What, Chalmers?”

“You said ‘changeling’ and ‘batpony’,” the white guy mumbled. “I have no clue why, but for some reason I get the distinct feeling that I’ve dated them…” He looked down to his groin. “Among… other much more confusing feelings.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“Well, leaving behind Nigel’s unexplainable need to fornicate with strange creatures apparently adored by this god,” the black man named James continued. “Let’s move onto the main question. What shall we do to you, Mister ‘Keksec’ I believe?”

Keksec struggled, but he was secured tightly to the chair. His handcuffs jingled, while his mind worked in overdrive to think of a way to escape the situation without any further harm.

“I swear, I did nothing wrong! All I did was kill that brony site for an hour, I promise! Let me go, I won’t ever do it again!”

“I’m afraid we can’t allow that to happen,” James said with a shake of his head. He began to pace around the large cargo hold, gesturing to his black armour-covered form. It was like something from a sci-fi, Keksec’s ice-blue eyes wide with fear. “As you can tell, my associates and I are not from around here.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” the orange dragon spoke up from his spot sitting on a shipping crate.

“Indeed, Orthodox. Anyway,” James returned his attention back to him. “Our orders are clear, despite their dubious source. The fact that we all received the same message, were apparently teleported to this world, and are regaining memories that may or may not be our own, leads me to believe that some higher power is at work.” Sighing, James tutted. “And that means, my good friend, that following said orders is a fairly safe bet.”

“So,” Chalmers joined in from his own seat by the side. “What’ll it be, kid? Tooth-pulling? Electroshock? Castration?”

“Pretty sure I’ve already taken care of that,” Orthodox once again added. “I did hit him pretty hard.”

“Well, you are at ideal ball-punching level,” Nigel continued, receiving a glare from the dragon. “Ah… hrm, excuse me.”

“What Nigel is trying to say,” James resumed with an eyeroll. “Is that we have been tasked with ensuring your suffering. Since we’re all such nice gentlemen, how about you decide what suits you best?”

Keksec, unable to process the exact question, spluttered in disbelief. “Are you insane? Why would I do that?”

“Simple,” Orthodox answered. “If you don’t choose, then we do.” He grinned, showing off a wide mouth filled with vicious fangs and teeth. “I’ve already called dibs on the blowtorch Nigel found.”

“Wrench to the kneecaps!” Nigel enthusiastically claimed.

Sweating, Keksec looked back to James, so far seeming like the sanest individual. The unknown kidnapper was staring back, a finger tapping his armoured wrist. “I… I don’t know! Please, I’m just fifteen!”

“That’s too bad,” James replied with a tinge of sympathy in his words. “I was hoping you’d at least pick something slow to go off, so far all we have to offer is ‘wrench to the kneecaps’ or whatever Orthodox can use a blowtorch for.” Another sigh. “And I fear that he has a rather maniacal imagination when it comes to torture. Very well, I guess we’ll start with the-“

“Friends, I bring a message!”

Looking to the front of the cargo bay, they all focused on the opening door. Keksec guessed that the bespectacled man wearing a military flight jacket over a grey lab-coat was the last of the abductors, his mind linking all four to the Twitter messages that had rattled him so. The newcomer waved a piece of paper in the air, strolling down merrily while adjusting the large flight-helmet on his head.

“A message from God just appeared out of thin air, in my cockpit no less! I was merely documenting the antiquated flight systems of this ‘Hercules’ plane and it gave me a terrible fright. Here, I read it and it contains instructions regarding our guest.” The scientist glanced at him. “Hello, by the way. I’m Lead Researcher Elijah Von Barker, OEMAD. I hope we haven’t started yet, I really must find out any anatomical differences between you and a normal human.”

Keksec winced against the pain of his nose. “Normal human?”

“Why, of course,” Elijah answered, passing the message to Chalmers. “You’re an alien, after all.”

Orthodox lifted his head. “Hang on, I thought we were the aliens?”

“We are,” James huffed, before he looked at Elijah. “Aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane?”

“I put on the auto-pilot,” Elijah explained. “And besides, I have no idea as to where we are supposed to be going.”

“It says here,” Chalmers figured out, tapping the message. “I think. Hang on.”

He cleared his throat, everyone including Keksec paying attention.

“Here ye, here ye, simple playthings I created for entertainment.” Nigel paused. “Wow, God’s a prick.”

“Nigel,” James prompted.

“Oh, right. ‘I, your all-powerful and humble god, command thee to takith thou prisoner through many’er punishment for his pestilent crimes’. About the only crime being committed here is against the English language. ‘As mucheth as it would please me to see him beaten, sliced, bitten, and shot to death, I feel that more hilarity can only make up for such a serious transgression. Hence, you art’ith to deliver him-“

“Take out his liver?”

“No, Orthodox. It says to ‘deliver him to Thirteen Equine Street, London UK, to be presented before Lord Knighty. Only then can his true punishment be decided. While in your humble care, please refrainith from damagingith his bodyith.’. Fuck, now he’s not even Bloody trying.”

The message was lowered, James pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling through it. "So, let me get this straight. An entity calling himself 'God' has brought us here to kidnap this young gentleman and is now ordering us to escort him to a 'Lord Knighty' who is in the 'U.K' in order for his punishment to be decided."

There was more silence, save for the engines of the 'borrowed' military transport.

"Screw it," Chalmers shrugged, getting off his crate and walking over. "It's not like something like this happens every day. Think of it like a quest."

"Indeed!" Elijah pranced around the area with a grin on his face. "Four valiant heroes, tasked to bring this evil doer to justice at the hands of the ruler Knighty! It will be an adventure grand!" The scientist paused, raising his finger into the air. "Dibs on the elf!"

"Human soldier," Nigel claimed.

James sighed, knowing how this would turn out. "Monk."

While Keksec nearly shat his pants out of pure confusion, all eyes turned to Orthodox.

"Fuck your nerd games," he huffed, before his eyes narrowed. "I'm always left only the half-dragon, or the fucking dwarf." He crossed his arms and frowned, Elijah gracefully making his way over behind him.

"Don't feel so down. Tell you what, why don't we swap? I'll be dwarf, and you can be the elf this time." Elijah used two hands to playfully tug Orthodox's pointed ears. "You even have the ears for it."

"Don't patronise me, Elijah."

Keksec was, to put it lightly, befuddled beyond all belief.

"Why the fuck is this happening to me? Why me, why the fuck?" His muttering drew the attention of Elijah, the weird nerd swinging around to approach him. Keksec drew back in his seat when a long finger was placed on the tip of his nose.

"Well, from what I gathered you were being a 'script kiddy' and 'DDOSing' a 'website' enjoyed by 'God'. That very same god that is currently creating this plan for light-hearted revenge, venting, to insult us as characters, to insult the fandom, to insult humanity in general, and to provide overall comedy." The finger tapped twice and was then removed. "That is why 'the fuck' is happening to you, young sir."

"You're... you're insane."

Elijah snorted, placing a hand on his chest. "Insane? I am not insane." He swept an arm out. "I am merely a fictional character given life, as are my comrades, our backgrounds, our Empire that we so loyally serve, Nigel's past equine girlfriends, even you. We are all merely tools for some, I must admit rather trashy, entertainment." Elijah smacked his lips together. "Actually, thinking about it, it's rather demeaning."

Keksec stared at the crazy man.

"Yeah," he heard Orthodox whisper to Nigel and James. "Elijah really is insane." As the scientist turned to rebuke the statement, a twitch ran through the hapless prisoner's head.

Keksec couldn't help it, the smiling nerd bringing out a learned instinct from the internet. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed so smug. Maybe it was the implication that he wasn't real. Or maybe it was the small plastic Spock ears that he only now noticed had been placed on Orthodox's ears.

It was a reflex.

"You're such a nerdy faggot," he insulted, eyes widening when he realised that he had said it out loud. Slowly, Elijah began to turn around, the scientist still maintaining the same, warm, smile.

Except this time, it chilled Keksec's soul to the bone.

"Elijah, remember the orders," James reminded softly while slowly approaching Elijah with palms held out. "We need him alive and intact."

"That shall not be a problem, I will ensure that he remains conscious."

Keksec felt a little bit of pee hit his underwear, unable to move while Elijah rolled up the sleeves of the lab coat.

"Hey... no need to be like-like that b-bro," he tried to defuse. "I... I accidently let it sli-"

"You called me a 'faggot'," Elijah returned evenly, still smiling.

Keksec thought fast. "Hey, 'faggot' is a joke word on the net, it means nothing. I'm sorry man, I really am."

The sound of someone sucking air through their teeth caused him to glance at Nigel, who was wincing while leaning against the wall.

"Ah, you see that's the problem," Chalmers explained. "You see... Elijah is a homosexual."

"W-what?"

"He's gay," Orthodox put it bluntly, a grin on his face. "Booty-plunderer, butt-pirate. And he sure is defensive about it whenever someone insults him for it."

"Oh shit," Keksec turned back to Elijah, wriggling in his chair. James had backed off, crossing his arms while shaking his head. "I... I didn't know."

"It's okay," Elijah reassured, before leaning in close. Keksec was unable to back up, the whisper that came was dominated by a cold tone. "In addition to my main work, I'm also a teacher." The scientist moved back, showing off his perfectly manicured hands. "It's a science lesson, quite a potent physics one." The hands were balled into fists, Keksec shivering when they were kissed in turn. "I call it 'The Study of Momentum and Force When Applied to an Unprotected Facial Surface, Fist Theory."

"Sweet," Orthodox clapped his hands together while his tail flicked. "I fucking love this one. Science rules."

"Indeed," Elijah nodded at him, before returning his gaze upon Keksec. "Test phase one, commencing in three."

Keksec tried one last time. "Wait, surely there is another-"

"Two."

"OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!"

"One."

"Sto-"

Crack

Keksec's head whipped around to the left, a solid right hook feeling like it shattered his jaw. A tooth flew out and he rocked painfully against the chair, but due to the bolts holding it down and restraints he remained sitting. Tears started to stream down his cheeks, fresh blood in his mouth as he tried to scream but couldn't find his breath.

"Test Phase One: Success," he heard Elijah state happily with the cracking of knuckles. "Beginning Phases Two to Ten, in three."

Keksec could feel nothing but pain.

After three seconds, he felt his jaw break.

It was a sunny day on Equine Street, and it was particularly pleasant in the garden of one Lord Knighty. With his trademark fimfiction shirt on, freshly brewed cup of tea, blue-boxers, and manly pecs fit for Adonis, he surveyed his wide domain.

He took in the wonderful flower beds, the swing set from his childhood, the fresh green grass, and the joyful early morning chirping of birds.

He took a sip of the brown tea, gulping down the liquid English pride with a small smile. It wasn't often that he went outside, but today was a special occasion. After having his site taken down by some wanksty teenagers running a few scripts and dealing with the resulting jokes from his site's plebs users about 'Knightly does it better', it was relaxing to finally have it back up again and running.

In short, it was pure bliss.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, hearing a strange whine from behind him. Turning around, he spotted a falling plane out over the city. Continuing to drink his tea, he watched on when smoke erupted from an engine and the plan soared over the city of London to disappear into the luscious green fields. A faint boom and rumble hinted at the plane's fate, Knighty wincing before taking another sip of tea.

"Blimey, that's the second this week."

Shrugging and beginning to head back into his modern house to tweet about it, he paused at a yell above him.

"Incoming!"

Years of basement experience had honed Knighty's reflexes to superhuman levels. The tea cup was thrown towards the house, Knighty launching himself backwards. He back-flipped no less than three times, landing on his feet just in time to catch the soaring teacup.

Not a single drop of English Breakfast had been lost.

Three dudes, what looked like a short dragon, and a sack thudded down onto his lawn. Evidently there had only been one parachute, the three men still clinging to the dragon creature wearing it.

"You fuckers," it cursed while sitting up. "I told you to get your own."

"Shut it, Orthodox," a white guy in black armor groaned while rubbing the back of his head. "That was the only one."

The sack let out a weak groan.

Knighty, faced with a plane crash and three dudes with an alien landing in his backyard, did what any true-blooded Englishman would.

Taking another sip of tea, he waited for something else to happen. Unfortunately, it was not what he was expecting.

"Ah!" the man in the flight jacket and lab coat smiled while getting to his feet. "Our goal!"

Knighty took another sip of tea when the tall and lanky stranger approached, the nerdy-looking fellow bowing while clapping his hands together. "Lord Knighty, salutations! I and my fellow questing-party have been advised to seek you out, so that justice may be delivered!"

Catching on, Knighty sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Damn, is this another attempt by Flabbergasted and his group to have me killed? Because I swear that he's this close to a perma." Knighty squeezed the first two fingers of his free hand together, his visitor chuckling.

"Oh no, not at all," the man held out a hand. "I am Lead Researcher Elijah Von Barker, OEMAD, and we've been sent on a mission from God."

"Double damn," Knightly cursed. "Even worse, the Christian Bronies again."

"The fucks a Bronies?" the dragon creature questioned while giving the sack a good kick.

"Never mind Orthodox," Elijah advised, obviously having noticed his attention to the alien creature. "He's very excitable. To answer your concerns, no, we are not Christian at all, and we have not been sent to kill you. In fact," Elijah pointed towards the sack that was now squirming. "We have travelled to your domain, the 'U.K', to request you to pass judgment on an individual. Nigel and James, the prisoner if you many."

At the request, the other white guy and a refined black man approached the sack and took hold of the end.

"Gah!" Knightly recoiled when a bloody teenager tumbled out. He could smell blood and piss, the individual looking up with bloodshot eyes, a bruised face, and less teeth than Prince George.

"H-help... me."

Taking another sip of tea, Knighty pointed at the dude as the dragon gave the sorry sod another boot to the gut. "Hey, don't bring that here. Do you see a sign saying 'Beaten Teenager Judgement' outside of my house?"

All four of the standing newcomers looked around to check.

"No?" the black man answered, Knighty nodding his head.

"That's because it's not my business to be judging beaten teenagers. Take him somewhere else, like the police or the hospital."

"But," Elijah began, pointing once again to the wheezing teen. "We have to bring him to you for judgment, that was the quest! He's the one that hacked the website, and God decreed that he is to be punished hilariously!"

Knightly paused mid tea-sip.

"The what?" his voice lowered, cold brown eyes narrowing behind his glasses when he stared at the fetal human. "That's Keksec, the script kiddy wankstain who DDos'd me?"

"The very same."

Knighty thought for a second, before nodding his head. "Righto then, that changes things. Door on the left, then the stairs afterwards. Take him down..."

Knightly leered at the shaking wreck before him.

"To the basement."

"No, please!" the teen pleaded through a spit-up of blood while he was dragged into the house by the four. "I'm sorry for calling you a horsefucker!"

A thump was heard and the cries cut off, the sound of the basement door opening and the stamps of armored feet on stairs. Soon there was no sound left, save for the merry chirping of the birds in the trees.

Knighty smiled slightly and finished his tea, before turning on his heels and making his way to the door with his goal being the basement once more.

It was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

Strange.

But good nonetheless.