Bright rays of sunlight peeked through the window blinds, falling upon the eyes of the cutest and fuzziest of all weasels and waking him. His eyes slowly fluttered open while adjusting to the light filling his bedroom. He sat up and stretched his arms over his head and yawned, "This is gonna be a great day! I had a great night's sleep, and I woke up in a fantastic mood! Nothing could possibly go wrong today! I could take on the world!"
Weasel jumped out of bed and disrobed, stepping into the shower and turning on the refreshing, warm water. He started scrubbing his hair and singing "Chocolate Salty Balls", which is the song he heard on South Park the night before. After rinsing, he put on his Star Trek bathrobe and headed into the kitchen.
With a hot cup of coffee in hand, Weasel went into his living room and sat down on the couch. He always started the day by watching the News, so he pressed the power button on his remote control and sipped his beverage happily as it came on.
". . . And that, Deborah, is why you should never take a furry to a petting zoo," said John, the lead newscaster. The story that they were previously covering seemed to be over. Although, by the sound of it, Weasel probably didn't want to know about it anyways. "The next story we will discuss is even more interesting. All over the world, the homes of YouTube stars have been suddenly broken into by crazed assailants that the Internet normally refers to as 'Trolls'."
"That's right, John," said Deborah, "To those of you who aren't familiar with the online world, a Troll is a horrible beast who feeds on hatred and takes pride in pissing people off. However, these creatures are breaking into houses that are thousands of miles away from where they live. For example, PewDiePie, who lives in Sweden, has had his house broken into by Trolls from the United States. We don't know for sure how this is possible, but a few other YouTube stars, such as McGoiter and JonTron, have claimed that they somehow came in through their very own computer screens."
Weasel shook his head and scoffed, "What a load of bullshit. Although, I didn't really expect anything good to be on the news, to be honest. All I've heard this week are reports on viral cat videos and how videogames are the leading cause of death and homicides." He turned off the television and finished his coffee before standing up and going towards his office. When he opened the door to the room, he expected to see his computer ready for checking emails and YouTube comments. Instead, he found something quite out of the ordinary. . .
It was Peckcella Von Peter! "Hello, baby boys!" the creepy-ass clown exclaimed seductively, "It's Peckcella Von Peter! I'm here with a top ten list on why CuteFuzzyWeasel needs to die!"
"Oh, fuck! It's Molesto the Clown!" Weasel shouted as he covered his backside in fear, "What are you doing in my house?!"
"Number one," Peckcella began as it pulled out a large Master Sword, "he made two videos about me." It swung the sword at Weasel, but he ducked, and it knocked over a box full of papers instead.
"Watch where you swing that thing! God, I can't believe I'm about to get killed by Barney's possessed ballsack!"
"Number two, he called me mean names, and mean baby boys need to be punished." It stabbed at the Weasel, but it missed and stabbed the cabinet from over his shoulder. "Number three, he won't stand still."
"Look, it was just a few videos that I made for fun!" Weasel argued, "It's not a big deal! Do I really have to die for making some silly videos? Besides, you're creepy as hell! You deserved it!"
It jumped over Weasel and swung its sword down to split him in half, but he jumped back to dodge. The Master Sword got stuck in the floor and was now unable to be used. "Number four, he keeps making excuses. Number five, he got my cool sword stuck in the floor. Number six, my hands are going to get very dirty with his blood."
Weasel tried to run for the door, but Peckcella Von Peter used its demonic powers to close the door and lock it before he could reach it. He pulled onto the doorknob and tried to pull it open, but its powers were too strong. "Dammit!"
"Number seven," Peckcella Von Peter said as it grabbed Weasel's neck, "he tried to run away from me." It squeezed his neck tightly, choking Weasel.
Weasel gasped for air, grasping the demon clown's wrists and trying to pull them off of his neck. "T-That's it. You asked. . . for it, you Stephen King. . . reject!"
"Number eight, he threatened-"
The creepy shit clown was interrupted by Weasel's fist punching its butt-ugly face. Peckcella fell over backwards and released his neck. He was now able to breathe, and he was now angry and ready to kill. "Where the hell did you come from?!"
The clown's nose was bleeding. "Number nine, he really hurt me, and it's not polite to hit a lady."
"The fuck?" Weasel raised an eyebrow.
Peckcella Von Peter stood back up with its nose stained with blood. It ran at Weasel with full force and punched Weasel in the stomach. When he hunched over in pain, it slammed its elbow on his head and forced him into the floor.
Weasel grunted, launched himself up, and tackled the rapist clown. As it was falling backwards, Peckcella hit the back of its head on the computer desk. Then, Weasel proceeded to punch the shit out of its face until it looked even more horribly disfigured than it already did.
To finish it off, he kicked its crotch super hard and made it vomit out all of its internal organs. "N-Number ten. . . he killed. . . m-me. . ." Then he died.
"Good riddance!" Weasel smirked while standing in a heroic Superman pose. Then he glanced over at his computer screen and saw that he had a new email. He went over and sat down in his office chair, and he clicked on the message and read:
"Dear CuteFuzzyWeasel: We are coming after you. You don't know us, but we very much know you. We have stalked you mercilessly because we were super butthurt over the videos you made of us, and we are going to ruin you. The clown should have already transported to you through your monitor by now to rough you up a bit, but judging on the writing style of this fanfiction, it most likely didn't succeed. But rest assured, we will finish you, one way or another. Don't get too comfortable. With love, your enemies."
"That shit about the computer portals was true? And there are people trying to kill me? What the hell did I ever do?! I just make YouTube videos! I'm not some kind of terrorist!" Weasel scratched his head, confused why anyone would have that kind of grudge on him over something so small. "Alright. If they're looking for a fight, then they're gonna get one," he said menacingly as he played epic music.
Weasel replaced his robe for his normal attire: a brown coat over a dark blue button-up striped shirt. Also pants. He needs those. He also got some cool sunglasses to look more bad ass. He picked up a plasma gun and stood in front of the computer, but before he leaped into the portal, he stated:
"Time to feed the trolls. . ."