Crack story written for the HMMasterlist. It's not supposed to be amazing. Just me derping around in class, so.
Once upon a time, there was a man known through his town as Silverlocks. But in reality, his name was really Vaughn. And he hated everyone in his town. In fact, he only lived there for two days of the week, so needless to say, he had no reason to like them in the first place.
One day, while taking a nice stroll through the woods (blowing off steam after one of the villagers tried to be his friend,) Vaughn came across a house he had never seen before. Normally, Vaughn would mind his own business, but this wouldn't be much of story if he did, now would it?
His amethyst eyes observed the house; it was a nice size, hidden by a few trees and bushes, with the front door wide open.
Vaughn let out a grunt, pulling down his hat by the rim.
"Well, I ain't got nothin' better to do anyway." He said as he trudged up the steps, walking into the house.
"Hello?" He called out, receiving no answer in response.
A familiar scent filled the air, causing the cowboy to furrow his brows, only one thing coming to mind. Walking into the kitchen, his suspicions were confirmed as he noticed a large kettle in the fire place, and three bowls set out on the table. Their contents? Porridge.
Because porridge was his favorite and to be blunt, he really didn't give a shit, Vaughn decided that the porridge now belonged to him.
He looked around the room, noticing that there were three chairs, all of different sizes, pushed against the wall.
Vaughn sat in the first, an uncomfortable but very large chair, almost throne like.
He moved to the second, stopping before sitting down. It was pink, with soft pillows and frilly lace decorating it.
"Fuck that."
He moved to the third, a wobbly bar stool with profanities carved into it. It was obvious that no one cared about whoever sat in that chair.
Vaughn gave a light shrug, deciding that the stool would be more comfortable than the first, and he sure as hell wouldn't be caught dead sitting in the second.
He picked up the stool and sat in the first spot, taking a taste of the porridge. It was steaming hot, causing him to burn his tongue, cursing under his breath.
Vaughn moved to the second bowl, noticing there were heart shaped strawberries on top. Pushing it away, a crash sounding, he pulled over the third. It wasn't hot or adorned with anything unnecessary, causing him to down it completely.
As he stood up, not bothering to put the empty dish in a sink, a small cracking noise was heard, the stool breaking in two and clattering to the ground. He shrugged and walked into the living room, observing the area. In one corner seemed to be a mancave of sorts, a large recliner chair sitting in front of a television made of wood. In another corner, a frilly, rocking chair sat, sewing and knitting supplies neatly surrounding the colorful area. Vaughn grimaced, and turned to another corner, where a pile of Lincoln logs laid.
Letting out a grunt, he turned to the fourth corner, noticing a stairway leading to an upper floor. Yawning, a sudden wave of exhaustion fell over him, wondering if he could probably take a quick nap before heading off back to town.
Vaughn entered a large room, taking note that it was actually a shared bedroom. How unfortunate.
Taking off his hat, he went up to the first bed, sitting on the mattress. It was stiff, possibly made of concrete.
He stood up, walking right past the pink, girly one and straight to the last, a rickety old bed with patched sheets. Sitting on the mattress, the smell of hay wafted up to his nose. Vaughn took off his hat and laid back, drifting of to sleep.
As Vaughn slept, three bears came into the house, confusion evident on their furry faces as they took in the sight of their kitchen.
"Blargh, someone's bin sittin in mah chair." A large, manly bear said.
"Oh, well mine seems untouched." A smaller, girly bear said, pushing her chair back towards the table.
"But ma, someone sat in my chair and broke it." A raggy, baby bear said.
Both the mother and the father bear ignored the baby bear.
"Blargh, someone's bin eatin' mah porridge."
"Ooo, someone seems to have knocked mine off the table."
"Someone ate my porridge all up."
The father bear snarled.
"Yer lucky you got any in te' furst place."
Before they could move into the living room, a voice was heard from behind them.
"The hell?"
All three bears turned around, noticing the cause of their problems.
"Who're you? Why're you in mah house blargh!" The father bear growled.
Vaughn furrowed his brows, looking at each bear before gazing into the father bear's eyes.
"What he fuck are bears doin' livin' in a house?"
A dead silence fell over the four briefly before the mother bear spoke.
"…touché."
And then Vaughn abruptly left.
Because he had no fucks to give.
And he lived happily ever after.
Becausehemarriedme