Note: Ugh. I was up 'till 2:30 last night for two reasons: I couldna sleep and I was writing chapter 6 of mah FFIX fic. It's about 10:00 A.M., and I'm just alittle shleepy right nw… pardon my wierdness.This fic came from a real-life experience while foolin' wih all da art supplies I got fer christmas and early-morning insanity induced by watching too much MST3K and lack of caffiene. O.o Read and be scared.
Death By Pastels!
**Woot. Our friend Nny is laying on his ouch. Whoo, he smells bad!**
Nny: **glares at the narrator**
**Erm, ya. Mr. Sasma is sitting nearby, apparently watching TV with Johnny. Reverand MEAT s being his normal, creepy self. I fear. I FEEEAAARRR!**
Nny: God, this TV sucks. I really don't care what the secret lives of celebrities are…
Mr. Sasma: I will rule the world, Johnny. Soon cockroaches will take over.
Nny: You can't talk!
Mr. Sasma: …aw, poop. Your right.
Reverand MEAT: Bored, Johnny?
Nny: Did I not just say that?
Reverend MEAT: And grouchy, too. Beware, Johnny. (How do I get back there to the place where I fell asleep inside you, how do I get myself-)
**AUTHOR! Stop singing, we're trying to do a fic here!**
Nny: Wait… this is a fanfic? *stands up** I'm in a FANFIC!?
(Do you even know what a fanfic is, Nny-sama?)
Nny: Yeah.. sorta. I've been in a few before.
(Prepare for inanity and rabid potatoes, Nny. This fic is by Demolition Cat.)
Nny: **cocks his head** Wat?
(KAWAIII! *.*)
Reverend MEAT: Go away, annoying disembodied voice.
('Kay. **phases out**)
Nny: How bizarre. (I'M LISTENING TO THAT SONG RIGHT NOW! Every time I look around…)
Nny, Reverend MEAT: GO AWAY!
(Oop, sowwy. **is gone**)
Nny: **sighs and goes back to watching TV**
Reverend MEAT: Bwahahahaaa!
Nny: What was that for?
Reverend MEAT: Nuthin'. Just felt like actin' freaky.
Nny: You're not yourself today…
Reverend MEAT: We're in a fic by that cat person, remember? As far as I know, we're all insane…
**A sudden banging on Nny's door startles him. Mr. Sasma scurries away, and Nny slowly approaches his door. The banging continies**
???: MOOOO!
(It's a cow!)
Nny: **comes after D.Cat with a knife**
(GAH! I gone now **phases out yet once more**)
Nny: **glares in her general direction and looks out the boarded window. He can't get a good angle, so he opens the door. Nobody's there. He leans out, looks to the sides, but alas, all is quiet. He returns to the sanctity of his home.**
Reverend MEAT: Somebody's playing a joke on you.
Nny: They're gone now.
Reverend MEAT: I was talking about Demolition Cat.
**POUND, POUND, POUND**
???: MOOOOOOO!
Nny: **runs to the door and opens it** WHAT!?
**An armada of flying, Rabid Potatoes swarm in and starts eating everything. Nny's eyes bug out**
Nny: GAH! What the hell!?
Reverend MEAT: Oh, great. Just great, Soon the house will be gone, Johnny. And your security with it.
Nny: … **runs out the door**
Mr. Sasma: He's bailed on us!
Reverend MEAT: You sound like some kind of middle-school teenage clone. That's not funny.
---OUTSIDE---
Nny: **sighs** I really wan tot save my house… AUTHOR!
**use her name**
Nny: Demolition Cat?
(Yeeeesh?)
Nny: **sighs and mumbles** I nergh yfor hurp.
(Sorry, Nny-sama I can't hear you.)
Nny: Need your help.
(No Problem! ^.^ Whatcha need?)
Nny: Well, my house is being destroyed by an armada of Rabid Potatoes. What do you think I need?
(New socks?)
Nny: **glares**
(Heh ^^;;; a way to stop the potatoes?)
Nny: **nods**
(ART SUPPLIES! They fear Art Supplies. It would be small, pink four-footed mammals but I don't have the time nor energy to… aw, durnit, I already typed it ^.^; Wearing earphones and glasses at the same time hurts your ears. Ergh!)
Nny: … right. I'll go get the supplies. **runs down the street**
---AT NNY'S HOUSE---
Rabid Potatoes: MOOOO!
Mr. Sasma: *squeek*
Reverend MEAT: Hey! I need that arm…
Mr. Sasma: For what?
Reverend MEAT: I'd look pretty weird with just one arm, don't you think?
Mr. Sasma: … makes sense.
---AT AN ART SUPPLY STORE---
**The clerk lies on her desk, her throat slit after calling Johnny some kind of 'modern-art classic-pillaging freak of the Saturday morning'. Johnny might have let her live. Aw, poop. (Trapped inside of these four walls, walking brainless all be dolls. Pushing face beneath the tables, winging silhouette inside, dressing like an angel would!)
Everybody in or mentioned in this fic, even the dead clerk: SHUT UP, D.CAT!!!
**Nny runs down the street with one of those big paper shopping bags in each hand, looking like a crazed psychopath. When he reaches his house, he's a bit relieve dot find that his walls are still up, He busts in**
Nny: Look here, Rabid Potatoes!
Rabid Potatoes: Moo? **all look at Nny**
Nny: **holds up a paintbrush**
Rabid Potatoes: 0o MOOO! **back away toward the wall**
Nny: **circles slowly, opening one bag of art supplies ad flinging them all over the floor. The flying potatoes cower.**
Rabid Potatoes: oo mooo…quack.
(Neow!)
Nny: **Evil apocalyptical death glare of demented caffeine-deprived doom**
(Sorry.)
Nny: **hold out a wood burner and charges** EAT THIS, POTATOES!
Rabid Potatoes: GWOK! (they be oglops ^^)
** a few potatoes fall under Nny's wood burner.**
Dying Potatoes: Moo… **die**
Nny: BWAHA! Feel my chisel of death!
Rabid Potatoes: MOO!
Nny: The crayon of doom!
Rabid Potatoes: MOOO!
Nny: And now… DEATH BY PASTELS! **hurls an array of pastels at the potatoes**
Rabid Potatoes: 00 MOOOOO! **the potatoes flee, though some perish under the pastel assault.**
Nny: … **walks down and sits on his couch** That was fun.
Mr. Sasma: *sqweek*
Nny: Huh?
Mr. Sasma: I can't talk, remember?
Nny: Hn.
Reverend MEAT: Could you hand me my arm, Johnny?
---Fin
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Note: WOOT! Behold the shameless self-insertion. Fear my garlic wrath, I am insane with morning fatigue! Oi. Tell me whatcha think, should I write random insanity more often? Well, I'm going to, anyway. Bwahaha.
"Have you ever felt like you only come from worlds you change?
You're not alone… I've felt the same as you.
Have you ever felt like your secret's giving you away?
You're not alone… I've been there, too.
'Cause everyone is looking,
And everyone is laughing, but I think
Everyone feels the same… everybody wants to feel okay,
Everybody wants to… everybody wants to be here!"
-Lifehouse, Quasimodo. (I was listening to that song near the end. Woot!