Salad Fingers chuckled a bit, shifting the small bundle in its arms. The bundle did not whine or wheeze, but the mutant chuckled softly, saying, "Yvonne, I was wondering where you went. You are a rather mischievous child."
Here the mutant paused to look up at the skyline. Minus the disrepaired shacks, it was a lovely sight. The sun tinted the clouds in various shades of gold, pink, and purple. The sky was the only thing that hadn't really changed.
Salad Fingers turned as if Yvonne had said something incredibly offensive. The mutant replied, "You really should watch that mouth. It might get you into trouble."
No reply from the bundle. Salad Fingers smiled a bit in approval of what Yvonne said. Something only the mutant could hear.
"That's a good girl," the mutant said, smiling a bit. He rolled into the shack, setting the bundle inside. He called, "Be good and do some chores. The house is sort of messy." No reply, which made the mutant say, "Don't talk back. It is not good manners."
No reply again. Then the bundle rolled over, as if to flaunt the bite taken out of it. This only served to make the mutant even more upset. Salad Fingers rasped, "Fine. Be that way. I expect you to clean up a bit and help around the house."
The mutant slammed the door, rolling his chair back to look at the sky. Slowly, Salad Fingers calmed, then smiled. The sky was beautiful, but slowly darkening. The colours in the clouds deepened. Pink to crimson and purple to a strong dark, almost black, blue.
"I want to touch those," the mutant mused. The gold did look sort of like rust now. Touching rust was orgasmic. Was touching clouds orgasmic too the mutant had to wonder.
The mutant wanted his sister to see it. Yvonne did. Oh, but his sister needed a wash, didn't she? Where did she get off to, Salad Fingers had to wonder. Oh well, it was her loss.
The mutant looked down, sighing a bit. It was no good to sit around all day. Maybe a walk would do them some good. Carefully, one foot touched the ground. Then the other. The chair was pushed back, leaving the mutant standing for a glorious moment. How good this felt to stand.
Salad Fingers was going to walk around. Or at least try to. After one shaking and disappointing step, the mutant fell, laying in the dust. This was disappointing.
The mutant looked down to find a tar-like substance dripping from their abdomen. How positively strange. The mutant poked it, fascinated. For some reason, it seemed familiar.
"Yvotte?" the mutant mumbled, confused. That didn't sound quite right, try again. "Yvette?' No. Not that either. "Yvonne?" That sounded right, but where was it from…Oh, of course. That girl should be cleaning her room.
"Up goes me," he rasped, attempting to stand again. This time was better, taking all of three steps before falling. Head made contact with the chair, managing to make Salad Fingers bleed quite badly. "Oh, poo." Then the mutant rolled over to get a last look at the pretty colours in the sky before passing out.
Yvonne better have cleaned her room. Her parent bleeding out on the lawn was no excuse for a messy room.