Harriet, asleep in the Aceops HQ, stirred. Outside her window a quiet but noticable buzz appeared. She balled up under her blankets, which she pulled over her head and groaned, annoyed by the sound. A full day of running around and beating the hell out of a grimm in that mine made her legs sore and soft, so, half awake, she massaged both her thighs to relax the muscle, and drifted off. Before she could fall asleep, it disturbed her again. The sound that was creeping closer, like the buzz of an approaching mosquito. She lay awake, listening, barely conscious. The buzz turned into a shouting, the shouting became a cacophony of at least a hundred voices, stomping closer. Soon it was like a roaring tornado was making its way through the streets of Atlas. Between the incoherent noise, she could suddenly make out something that horrified her: "Harriet is my waifu!" Her eyes shot open fully, and she hopped out the bed. To see what was going on, she opened her window just a crack and peered down. Huddling under her window, convulsing and pressing themselves against the walls of the building, was an enormous crowd of incredibly overweight men, wearing fedoras and occasionally brandishing a plastic katana. Encouraged by her appearance at the window, they yelled louder. "TFW NO BUNNY WAIFU" they chanted. "THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES", then. Quickly, they corrected themselves. "FUCK THIGHS, SAVE LIVES!" A skeletal, spindly man with a beard and glasses wormed himself out of the crowd, and stood on the shoulder fat of his companions. "Behold, peasants! I will do what you cannot!" His skeletal frame clambered onto the outcroppings of the wall of the building and like a lanky spider he made his way up surprisingly quickly, soon trying to squeeze his head through the opening in her window. She had backed off at his approach, and stood with her back to the wall. His mad eyes spun until he found her in the darkness. "Harriet! Harriet I love you!" He cried, "Please let me touch your thighs!" "What the fuck?" Harriet yelled. "I can also lick the sweat off of you after a day of fighting! Please, let me-" She kicked him under the chin and he went flying backwards, with his arms spread almost like an angel, and before he disappeared back into the crowd she could hear him yelling: "She touched me! Make way plebeans- patrician coming through!" He hit the concrete as the crowd dispersed away from him. His neck and legs were bent at an awkward angle, and he wouldn't stop repeating "Speedy bunny, speedy cummy!" as loud as he could. The crowd, frothing at the mouth, descended upon him, and as he disappeared under a wave of punching, kicking and clawing neckbeards he shouted: "Faggots seething they didnt get kicked by harriet first!" The crowd piled up, closer and more compact, and began to tower. The sheer mass of the neckbeards pressed upon the men closest to the walls and pushed them up, and soon they began to pile on to eachother, the group thinning out but becoming taller until they were like one of those zombie towers from world war z. They pulled her window open, and a horrified Harriet watched as they struggled to enter, though she was temporarily safe because three obese men had wedged themselves in her window frame and had gotten stuck. Their pudgy digits feverishly reached for her thighs when she began to try and push them back out. Her hands sank into layers of fat while their tongues stretched as far as they could go, salivating and hoping to catch one of the droplets of sweat now falling off her body. "I want to breed the bun!" They yelled, "GUYS! Harriet is touching me!" With a final push she expelled the neckbeards back outside. Their tower collapsed and their bodies cascaded over the street like a tidal wave of lard. Hoping they would disperse, she returned to bed after locking her window. The next day she woke up to a pile of letters and drawings that had been shoved under her door. Perturbed, she glanced at a few. They all read like the ramblings of a schizophrenic, and the drawings consisted mostly of stick figures with large phalluses ejaculating on her thighs. Some of them had helpful notes, like "here, Harriet squeezes my head like a melon," and "Harriet, please sit on my face like this until I die." The aceops were famous but... Clearly something was wrong here.