I didn't know what this text I got from my cousin. Only knowing, that for a fact, I had to see this video that she made. I'll humor her.
She had better not have killed herself again for a bad fic. Or I swear, I'll kill her once I get my hands on her.
Turning on the computer and letter it warm up, gave me enough time to fetch a cup of tea. Taking a seat before my computer. Letting a fine sun and a chime of Big Ben signing of the hour.
"All right, let's see the damage."
Going to Google and tying in what the text that was within my cell. Thinking over and over what kind of things she must have done.
Once Critic Vs Critic was written. Hell's gates open wide.
Clicking the first thing, from YouTube USA.
I see FanFic Critic. Giving a very creepy smile.
"This can't be good."
Pressing play.
The theme song acted to every point of the opening is.
And there is FanFic Critic, but she wasn't wearing her normal apparels.
FanFic: Hello, everyone I am the FanFic Critic. I read it . . .
Out of nowhere a bomb went off. Letting the screen go black. The swarm of black and white ants now on the screen.
"What the . . . "
The ants now gone. Gray color took up computer face before me and then . . .
"Is that the . . . "
Nostalgia Critic: Forget what that woman has to say. This is the Nostalgia Critic, I remember it, so you don't have to!
He did a drum roll with his hands. His clothing was also different.
About to add something, when a small bright red packet was dropped gently with the help of a hand-size shoot, before him on the table.
Nostalgia Critic: Aw, I got a gift. Must be from an adoring fan.
He opens it. There was a nice white plated Rolex, NC pulled out with a note. That he read out loud.
Nostalgia Critic: Think again?
All of sudden a boxing glove pop out of the Rolex, hitting right in the face, knocking him onto his back.
Again, the screen changes. Back to FanFic, whose room was destroyed, but she looked fine.
FanFic Critic: Ha-Ha, Nostalgia. This is my time, not yours!
In a distance you could hear; You'll pay for this, FanFic! In just pure anger.
For a moment, she fixes herself. Straightening her white jack and hat.
FanFic Critic: Going back to this. This Fanfiction story was a waste of words. So instead . . .
An arrow was seen shot from the side, seeing it go through her neck. Which that was the way the body went.
Having the screen going back to Nostalgia, looking fine and un-harm. Wearing the damage watch.
Nostalgia Critic: As what my fiend was going to say. This is a Spy Vs Spy Fanfiction story. But instead of just telling the story and to also put to some unused stage props to . . . good use.
A shout was heard; For the fans!
He rolled his eyes, picking up his gun, pointing it to his left.
Nostalgia Critic: Silence you!
And shot three times.
His command was granted.
Nostalgia Critic: That's better. So for the time being of this show. You'll be knowing me as Nostalgia Black. Mostly for this get-up here.
Motioning to himself like he was a stud made by gods.
But then a group of rabid dogs taking him down, having his face squashed against the camera like a sideways fish.
A sign came up with a playground came up on a windy day with elevator music filled up the back ground.
Please Stand by As We Take a Short Break
FanFic Critic popped out of no where, taking a seat on an unmoving swing set. Giving a cocky smile.
FanFic Critic: And you, my views, may call me FanFic White.
What in the world am I going to do about these two. Oh, and for those who don't know who I am. This is Susan, who knows one of the whack-jobs who is now calling herself FanFic White, cousin.
As you can, this video can only end in an acid base, eye crossing, mind-fuck. Just going back and forth. Both speaking a few words and then something inhuman happens. I paused it before I do the unthinkable to my new computer.
No way, I am letting this be the end of it. But sooner or later, I have to see how it ends. Or she'll never let me hear the end of it.
I'll just set a doctor on speed dial for when my heart is about to give.
1:21/48:52
Oh no! I refuse to see any more of this trash.
Then my cell went off. Not even looking at the ID, answer it.
"Yes?"
"You watching the video?"
"Yes, I am and have you lost your mind?"
"How many episodes have I done?"
"Good point." Having my other hand un-pausing the video, letting it play on. "Is this really how the FanFic was written?"
"Yes. Yes it was."
"You did a Phineas and Ferb too?"
"Before. That one was actually the pleasant one."
"And you ended up killing yourself over and over in this, I see."
"Fair trade of being human."
"As to show to what?"
"Life can be cruel without knowing how others will feel."
"And you thought doing a show called Critic Vs Critic would make yourself feel better?"
I didn't hear a reply. Just her breathing. Having a brow rise to this.
"FanFic . . . "
Then the line went dead. Right when the show was about to end.
"Now I have to see a doctor and go back to America. Wonderful, just wonderful."
Turning back to see the last few minutes. Having Lesbian Jesus and Chester A. Bum be the gray spy or spies. Or whatever at this moment.
Next there was Both FanFic and Nostalgia standing in front of a waste land that has went through war. Smiling at the camera.
FanFic Critic: So, to end this video on a happy note.
Nostalgia Critic: We have done a full chapter of a two-chapter story.
FanFic Critic: Did you say, two chapter story?"
Nostalgia Critic: Yes I did. And the reason why, this happen, is because, we are about to tag two new people to do the next chapter.
FanFic Critic: How will that be done?
He raised a bowl fill with strips of paper in them. In the end he gave a fully toothy smile, to anyone who didn't him or FanFic, who was also giving the same look, well enough, knew this couldn't be good.
Nostalgia Critic: FanFic, would you please pull the first name out.
FanFic Critic: Gladly.
Grabbing one strip as if it was finger food. Only taking a simple glance of the name and blasted; Nostalgia Chick!
And then Nostalgia Critic did the next.
I could see him shiver, as if he knew I was glaring at him through the screen.
"Don't you dare . . . "
Nostalgia Critic: And the lucky person is . . .
"Don't say it, Don't . . . "
Nostalgia Critic: Susan!
Good bye new computer as I flipped it to the side in rage. Having it blow up in the corner of my room, hearing weak sparks and wires landed about onto the floor. I didn't care, and I could clean it up later.
"I'll kill them!"
The End.
(Well to her it is, but no it's not.)
Oh, yes it is. I band you from maker another chapter to this, writer.
(But . . . But . . .)
Not another word!
(Fine, this is really the ending, for the fear of having Susan and Chick coming after me.)
Well?
(The End!)