This fanfiction takes the humanized forms of these characters. If you have a good imagination please think of them however you want—if you do not, please go to Tumblr and look up user Mad Carnival for a rough basis of what they look like. Some of his art is porny…but, parts of this story are porny so… The puppets are named Harry (red), Robin (bird) and Manny. The notebook's appearance and name will change often. Tony too, but not nearly as much. This is me doing this for fun and most of these chapters are not related as there is no real plot, just everyone screwing/murdering everyone. There will be some rape/non-con elements at times and while I don't mind reading or writing them—IF YOU EVER DO ANYTHING EVEN SLIGHTLY NON-CON IN REAL LIFEYOU SHOULD BURN ALIVE IN HELLFIRE! That being said, I hope you enjoy.

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Nancy (as she was calling herself at the moment) placed down her pencil with a glare. She stared down at the inanimate yet physical representation of her skin growing angrier with each passing second. Mind you, the seconds weren't passing—Tony being busy doing something (or someone) else. As her anger grew the other inhabitants of the house took notice...or, Robin did at least. The man was currently hiding under his bed waiting with baited breath both for the ever present ticking to reappear and for the word 'Creative' to stop carving itself into the walls. As the non-existent for the moment-minutes went by (or didn't) Robin realized that the problem wasn't going to go away. He took a deep breath and wandered to find the Notepad, as he at least had an idea of where it might be. The house was almost gone by the time he made it to the kitchen, the entire thing half destroyed and switched around. He didn't even know how long he'd walked due to time not occurring at the moment, but he was aware that he'd gone down two flights of stairs, up a hill, and through a hallway that hadn't ended for long enough to make his legs sore. She was sitting there, unmoving and deceptive in her every pore. If one were to just look, they would see a woman, her multicolored hair obscuring her features as she sat hunched over the table. There were storm clouds outside, and swiftly growing mountains of should-be-internal organs. He took entered the kitchen. The next thing he knew, he was slammed against a wall, a pencil dangerously close to his eye and the Notebook smiling with a mouth full of fangs.

"Paige" He gasped out as she started to crush his windpipe. He could only hope it was still 'Paige'. That was the name she'd given that morning. Her smile morphed into a snarl, her rainbow eyes pulsating, never quite settling on a color.

"You're fault" Her voice wasn't its usual upbeat pleasantry—in fact, it was akin to knives in his eardrums…or there actually where knives there at the moment, one could never be sure. "What did you do with it?" She continued. "Or did you just destroy it?" Black was creeping in along the edges of his vision. He felt a stabbing pain he was ashamed to admit was familiar to him as her pencil tore through his stomach as if it were nothing. She pulled out his intestines and looked at them for a bit, before shoving them back into his body and healing him…healing the physical. He still felt the pain, still remembered everything, still felt "It's your fault" She said in a sing-song. She had stopped choking him, but still held him about four inches off the ground. "You did this to me"

"Paige, I don't know what I did" This was the wrong thing to say, the pencil killed him twice more before she allowed him to live, a dangerous gleam in her ever-changing eyes. "If you tell me what I did, I can stop doing it" This earned him another kill. When she brought him back this time, she was a bit calmer.

"Green is not a creative color" She said softly. "And you're green." She growled at him again. "It's your fault I have no ideas right now. HOW CAN I THINK WHEN THERE'S GREEN!" She killed him and brought him back another dozen times or so. He was a shaking, shivering mess; she didn't seem even slightly less incensed. "To top it all off" She ground out. "You've been calling me 'Paige'" He flinched. "Paige is not a creative name" There was a lot of pain after that, couldn't keep track of what she was doing to him, though at some point he felt his feathers getting ripped away, then his flesh. All through it all, Notebook kept talking, repeating herself. Green is not a creative color, Paige is not a creative name, your fault, how dare you be green, stole my creativity. He waits for it to be over.

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When he came to, it was to the blissful sound of ever-present ticking. He sat up from the floor. Harry and Manny were at the table, not touching. Manny seemed slightly disturbed, while Harry looked bored as usual. There was no sign of the Notebook, though Tony had to be somewhere close. He got up on unsteady legs and forced himself over to the table. Manny was in his seat, so he sat next to Harry.

"Felt the house shake" Harry commented. Robin nodded. "You're not green anymore" Robin looked down at his feathers and, sure enough, he was navy blue. "Paige?"

"Paige isn't a creative name" He whimpered. Harry's eyes widened ever so slightly, before going back to his cereal. "What happened to Manny?" He asked, trying to get his mind off of it. Manny started sniffling.

"Tony" Harry supplied. Robin had known the answer before he asked. He just wanted the conversation deflected from him.

"Did someone ask for me?" Tony's smooth baritone drifted into the room a second before he did. Robin flinched and Manny outright hid under the table. Harry stayed stoic. Luckily for Manny, Tony wasn't interested in him—his eyes were glued to Robin. "New color, new memories. Do you mind?" It wasn't a question; In fact, Tony was already removing his gloves. Robin had no choice; it wasn't as if he could outrun Time (though Tony always seemed to like it when Manny tried). Thus, he was forced to live through everything the Notebook Had put him through again. When it ended he was sore again. "Ahh, that's what she meant" Tony smiled. "She was right, her best masterpiece yet." As Tony freed him from the prison of his mind, Robin had only to look upon the horrified faces of his friends to know that it had been projected as it happened. Tony walked out humming. There was silence. Harry couldn't take it. He put his bowl in the sink and left the room. Robin and Manny were alone.

"He-h-he made Harry" Robin looked over at his friend who was trying to force something out of his raw vocal chords. "And he just…watched. He" Robin leaned over, giving Manny a hug at that. "Where did the come from? Why can't we leave?" Robin pulled Manny into a hug as the younger boy begin to cry freely. He hushed him with empty promises about how all they had to do was keep the two happy to be let go. He wished he knew both what had brought them and how to make them go away. But all he knew was that if the two were kept happy, they would bring them back after death. The house started to shake, Robin cried with Manny.

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Finishing this you realize…you don't know HOW fucked up you are until you do something like this. I'm going to get an archive of our own account being as THIS will probably be the story that gets my fanfic account suspended. Hope you enjoyed! oh-and please leave a review because I really don't know how I did. Just a-it was bad, it was good, I liked x-Pretty please and I won't send Tony after you?