"Cookies. Just Cookies. Each gram of sugar adds the count of days to your death. Each chocolate chip is the memories you try to forget out of pills and bottles." - Big Bird 2016
It was a normal day at the Elmo show, Just like every day, everyone came to work with a smile on their faces except one corrupted soul. He didn't have a bright and encouraging smile like the others, no, his was crooked and just felt forced. Everyone knew why he was like this, Cookies. Cookie Monster had a problem and everyone knew, Cookie Monster wouldn't even try to get help, no he just ate more when anyone made a comment on him, furthering his addiction. That late evening,
darkness dwelled in the studio.
Cookie Monster was very quiet that day, but no one really noticed until he still sat quiet when he had lines to speak. "Um, Cookie Monster?, Are you here with us?" Oscar casually asked. Cookie Monster still sat still. "Thats it! This is the last time you are going to waste our time by showing up here! You have a problem! You aren't the blue friend I knew 5 years ago! You either get rehab or you leave this studio that you committed your life to 5 years ago!" Oscar shrieked, enraged. Suddenly, Cookie Monster sat up. He just stared at Oscar with this saddening and crazed fire burning in his eyes. Time seemed to freeze as Cookie Monster pulled out his glock 17 from behind him and shot twice, each shot making this deafening noise which pulled away at the very souls of the witnesses.
Oscar stood still, shocked and frozen from the pain of his bullet wounds. "Wh...whh...why?" He managed to blurt out seconds before he vomited blood and chunks of organs. Cookie Monster still stood as Oscar fell over and died, a small blood pool from his ribcage growing larger by the second with that same fire in his eyes except this time, it was larger and scarier. Cookie Monster then let all his rage out, firing at the heads of all nearby people. The rage of hell was unleashed as bullets flew by one by one hitting walls and piercing innocent skulls, shattering souls.
Cookie Monster held nothing back, pure emotion of rage blaring from his face.
Count von Count dropping in mere seconds along with Ernie Sesamstraat and Bert Sesamstraat two brothers with bright futures but darkened by a sinister soul. Many that couldn't hide fled but only Big Bird didn't get shot from Cookie Monster as he fled. Elmo, a new man had seen the worst he would, his friends and family dieing in quick succession with blood splattering everywhere. Each drip of the crimson paste tore apart Elmo's happiness and joyfulness leaving nothing but bare anger. Each sight of his family, lying cold and dead on the ground with their unfocused, lifeless eyes staring into the heavens just gave him more reason to fight back. Elmo was done with his act, his was going back to the serial hitman of virtue that he tryed to erase through pain but it only fed his wanting for vengeance.
Elmo ran out of hiding. He ran as fast as he could behind Cookie Monster and attacked. He grabbed Cookie Monster by the shoulder and flipped him onto his back with immense strength, hidden by Elmo's innocent appearance. Cookie Monster didn't change emotion as it was clear he couldn't feel anything. Elmo hit Cookie monster multiple times. Each hit was harder and quicker than the last until Elmo had ran out of breath. Cookie Monster's face still didn't change. Quickly, Elmo pulled out his butterfly knife, sharpened for an occasion such as this, and aimed for the throat.
Each time Elmo stabbed, Cookie Monster quickly dodged. This kept going for a while until Cookie Monster reversed Elmo's hand towards Elmo's chest and pushed hard. Falling over, Elmo was wounded, a 7 inch butterfly knife deep in his chest, just missing his heart. Elmo grabbed Cookie Monster's Glock 17 from his holster as fell and just before hitting the ground, he shot a bullet between Cookie Monster's lungs.
As they both fell and Elmo's eyes started to close, two shadowy figures pulled the unmoving Cookie Monster into the darkness.
After waking up, Elmo realized his choice. Run after Cookie Monster for a chance at revenge and go back to a life of murder or try to ignore the suffering and pain of others that he did nothing to stop until too late. It was obvious what choice was correct to him no matter how hard he hated it. As he picked up Cookie Monster's Glock 17 from the blood stained floor, he had a purpose.