It was a Sunday afternoon, and Steven was busy playing his PlayCube-69, when he started to feel his gut rumbling. He then realized he hadn't eaten for the past twenty four hours, leading him to pause the game, and set the controller down at his side. (His left side, since he was newly found out to be left handed, a fun fact that no one asked about).
"Hello?" he called out, suddenly aware of the all too quiet essence of the home. Since getting into his gaming-sesh, when Pearl had originally started nagging him about getting away from the screen and out into the sun; since Garnet had unfused back into Ruby and Sapphire to share a date-day down at the beach; and since Amethyst had stopped rooting for him to beat-da-boss-Steven!, everything had grown still, with all of the lights off. The only luminescence, in fact, came from the time on the microwave: 2:34 A.M.
"Oh man!" cried Steven, realizing he had been playing SuperMash All-in-One until the early hours of the morning. Panicked, he ran to the Gem's rooms, calling out their names in a longish sort of way that echoed and reverberated within the hollow walls.
"Pearrrrrl!" he cried out, but to no avail.
"Gaarrrrrnet!" he tried.
"Amethyst?" he asked, rather defeated and upset. The Gems always told him when they'd left or arrived home, and it wasn't like them to be out this late.
Pulling back the shades of the window, Steven saw how dark it was outside, a light fog rolling in from off the waves. There was no moon that night, just a pale glow shimmering through the thick clouds, which could easily have been emanating from the lighthouse a few yards down the coast. Steven sighed as he slumped into the couch cushions, his body slowly sinking into the soft, plush pillows. All was quiet, save for the soft ticking sound of his cookie cat clock, and the rumbles of his empty stomach.
Reluctantly, Steven walked towards the refrigerator, the sounds of his footsteps echoing like the tap of an ivory cane on the linoleum floors. As he opened the refrigerator, he was blinded by the light, at which point he recalled the 1976 hit single, Blinded By the Light, by the band Manfred Mann's Earth Band. Humming the tune, he shrouded his eyes, reaching blindly into the refrigerator, hoping his stubby little child fingers could grip something good.
Pulling his hand back, all he saw was a couple of lint strands, two copper pennies, and a pile of dust.
"Aw man", Steven whined in his usual tone (we all know what I'm talking about).
Defeated, Steven began the long walk of shame back to the couch cushions, where he could bury his little pillsbury-doughboy face into the soft fabric. But then, he remembered that there was a freezer ON TOP OF the refrigerator.
His little diabetic heart racing, Steven rushed over and opened the freezer, where he was greeted by a box of ice cold, sugary, savory Freezy Pops. His mouth salivating, he reached his thumb sized, sausage fingers into the box, his sweaty palms (and weak knees apparently), ready to grip the box and enjoy the entirety of twenty four different flavored Freezy Pops. But the moment his fingers, like literal thick, fat rolls of play-doh, touched the box of Pops, it collapsed into a two dimensional heap of trash. All that came from it, was a whiff of smoke, and a wheezing noise.
Steven's eyes grew wide like dinner plates, as tears welled up from the depths that were his soul. Much like the box of Freezy Pops, Steven felt like he'd had the air knocked out of him. Maybe it was the juvenile onset Type 1 diabetes brewing in his belly. Or maybe, it was sadness. No one could really tell.
"Well this could've gone better" he thought, slamming the freezer door in defeat as he stared down at the floor. (It was really a clean floor, he thought. So nice and clean). Shuffling over to the couch cushions, he slumped into a fat-sack-o-shit heap on the soft pillowy cushions that felt soft like a soft-Boss Baby-bottom. Meanwhile, his left hand (the one that's his dominant hand, don't worry, that'll be an important plot point later) fell to the side of the couch, while he stuffed his literal oven mitt sized fist of a right hand deep into the cracks and crevices of the couch. That's where he found it.
Between the pillowy bosom of couch folds; deep within the recesses of another dimension that was replete with dust, debauchery and DiGiorno; far beyond the sticky ponds and tide pools of syrup, sperm and Skittles, Steven found a twenty dollar bill.
Quickly, he pulled his hands from the couch and jumped up in a freeze frame moment, where only the text is moving on screen.
"Wooooaaaaaahhhhhhh!" he said in awe, sparkles glittering in his eyes, his pudgy mouth agape, like an ape who sees a young child fall into their enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo. "Tweeeentyyyyy Dolllll-Hairrrrrrs".
Excited, Steven ran in circles around the room, thinking of all the wonderful things he could buy. A whole barrel of fry-bits; ten dozen-dozen donuts; or even...Steven stopped himself mid breakdance spin on the ground. "Freezy Pops" he said, as if it were all one word and not two separate words, each with the first letter capitalized. (He wouldn't know any better, he's never been to school).
Immediately, Steven bolted for the front door, since he knew that the Beach City Walmart, which has always been there, just off camera, was open twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.