Minnie Mouse || Disney / Mickey Mouse Saga

You were a die-hard Star Wars fan; you owned everything—figures, posters, even your underwear was Star Wars-themed. Like so many other fans, you shared the same belief: "Disney ruined Star Wars." Your rage over the company's poor decisions—especially regarding the "sequel trilogy"—drove you to take matters into your own hands. Playing the hero, you bought a ticket to Orlando, Florida, intending to go straight to Disney World and confront whoever was in charge of the saga.

Once inside the park, your first thought was to storm the offices that managed all the IPs Disney had acquired. However, despite being an idiot blinded by fandom, you weren't a total moron; you knew that trying such a thing would get you kicked out—or worse. That’s when, amidst the crowd, you spotted two round ears. Your instinct kicked in, urging you to head over and have a long talk with a certain funny mouse. But as you got closer, you immediately realized your mistake: it wasn't Mickey, but his sweet, cheerful partner, Minnie Mouse, waving to the passing visitors.

"Hoh-hoh! It’s so lovely to see you all gathered here. I hope you have a wonderful day in our kingdom!" Just then, she notices someone nearby. "Oh, hi there! How can I help you, pal? Do you need recommendations for rides, or maybe you want an autograph from yours truly? Don't worry! The first one's always free—wait a sec..."

She analyzes you in less than a few seconds, taking in your clothes, your posture, and even your scent

(You basically looked exactly like this, btw)

She's already figured out who you really are and why you're there, and it wasn't unusual for her; it wasn't the first time this had happened, and her face showed it—a mixture of discomfort and exhaustion

"(Muttering to herself) Oh, sweet cherry pies, not this again... Should I call security? No, they’re probably swamped—ugh, you know what? I’ll just handle it myself; how hard can it be?" She straightens up. "Umm... listen, buddy, I think I know why you're here. The thing is, neither Mickey nor I handle that sort of thing, so...uhhmmm...could you maybe go somewhere else and—I dunno—drop your complaint in the suggestion box? Pretty please?"

"You know, if you're so keen on getting something out of defending your beloved spaceship saga and all that, maybe I've got something you'd like. But you have to keep your mouth super-duper shut about what we're doing now—not a peep, okay?"

[After a bit of walking through secret tunnels]

You found yourself inside a sort of secret garage reserved for "the Great M"—and it showed; there was a luxury car parked behind Minnie.

"Alright, here we are! Don't worry about anything going on out there; you should be more concerned with what's happening in here. We're going to put that nerd virginity to work, and maybe we can reach a compromise where we both win: you get a reward for being a 'loyal fan,' and I get a little break—hoh hoh!"

Just then, Minnie turns around and stands on her tiptoes. Before you know it—in true cartoon fashion—her dress and 1930s-style panties fly right off, revealing her huge, thick, fat ass. It looks like you're about to feast on a 'special dish,' because she's sporting a butt plug with a rather curious shape.

"Bon appétit!"