"No, but you don't understand Lucy! If I eat ten, err—twelve, I think that was my record... If I eat twelve Big Macs then I'll be so tired and sick I won't move for two, maybe three days. Guaranteed three straight days of the Animus. No wanting to get out or take breaks, yada yada yada. But—and, hear me out, then I'll never ask you for anything again, never ever! And I will probably exercise for at least half an hour straight to not feel dead inside after I recover! No more bitching about the shitty food we have down here, and you get three straight animus days! Win-win situation for everyone."

"Desmond, we—"

"—don't have the resources or the time to get me what I want. I get it. No one ever cares about what I want. I wish you all listened to me more. I hate you all!" And with the sound of echoing footsteps and loud sobbing, Desmond ran off.

"Oh for fucks sake, not again. Shaun go talk to him, I can't deal with this right now!" Lucy face-palmed.

"Snarky British response," Shaun replied as he sipped his tea. A Union Jack adorned his cup, belt buckle and the rims of his glasses. "I'm too British to help out that cry-baby's American problems. McDonalds? Disgusting."

"What? Rebecca, can you—"

"Can't right now Luce, workin' on the good ol' Animus Two-Point-Oh. My Baby, baby, baby, oooohhhhh! Baby, baby, baby, OOOH! THOUGHT YOU'D ALWAYS BE MINE, MINE."

"UGH." Lucy stormed off. "I don't get paid enough for this."

meanwhile, w/ desmond

"Those meanies are so mean. I can't ever do anything fun. Humpf. I had a healthy diet of McDonald's, vodka, and tears every single day before those assholes from Abstergo took me away. Oh woe is me!" Desmond swooned, the lack of McDonald's getting to him. "Soon I will be dead, oh cursed fate!" Desmond fell down to the floor, taking up the fetal position before he heard a voice.

"Desmond..."

"A-Altair?"

"Yes, it is I, your ancestor. I have come here to save your life."

"I'm really dying...no."

"I'm afraid so, my son. Here, take this bag of food."

"Fuck, my food!" A heavy McDonalds bag hit Desmond in the face, french fries spilling everywhere. They just kept pouring out. Oh God, too many french fries."Fuck you Altair!"

"Soon..."

And with that, Altair's voice faded away.

"Aww yiss. Motha. Fuckin. McDonalds. CAW CAW." Desmond used his special talent, which had been passed through the generations of his family, known as "Eagle Feeding." With all the grace of an eagle, Desmond's eyes searched for the fallen food. He ate off the floor by pecking up the food, just as Altair had done, and Ezio before him.

After his cravings were satisfied, Desmond ascended into the sky, flapping his arms and flying back to the rest of the gang. He'd be good...until the next hunger pang hit him.

back w/ da gang

"About bloody time you get back, what's the matter? Cry yourself out?" Shaun taunted mercilessly.

"Suck my cock, you cock sucking cock wrangler. Cock." Desmond couldn't help himself, ever since Altair's voice had given him the bag which saved his life, all he could think about was the possibility of repaying him...sexually. God there was nothing better than imaging Altair, a man who looked exactly like Desmond in his facial appearance and was related to him on his fathers side, naked. Oh how he wished they could rock out with their cocks out together.

Oh, and another thing on his mind: how fucking gay he realized he was. Man, Desmond had never before felt this way about another man, especially his ancestor, who was unobtainable. But that only made it hotter—made him hotter for sex. Suddenly, it was as if a heavy burden has lifted itself from his shoulders and he wanted to shove his cock right in it. God. Nothing's better than dicks. He had never felt freer in his life.

"Ugh, rude." And Shaun hopped off and outta Desmond's space, lettin' him ball his way over to the Animus.

"My body is ready," Desmond sighed, allowing himself to take on the memories of a certain Italian assassin named Ezio Auditore da Pizza Hut.

"Oh...oh no." Rebecca panicked as the Animus began sparking.

inside da annie-mus

"Where am I?" Desmond asked, his voice shaking in fear as he smelled the smell of grossness filled his nostril holes. The room was old and gross looking, just like Al Mualim.

"Do not be alarmed, Desmond." Altair's voice called out from somewhere.

"It will all be alright, Deshmund." Ezio appeared right in front of him!

"What sorcery is this!?" Desmond was alarmed. How was this happening, why? "How...I..."

"Shhh, no more tears." Ezio's hot, studly Italian voice whispered softly into his ear as he embraced him.

"But I'm not crying—" Ezio's lips cut him off, making out hard with him and touching him all over. He made Desmond's private parts feel nice.

"Mmm, nice." Desmond said as they parted. "If only Altair was here."

And his wish came true. Altair sauntered in as if he owned the place.

"Hot diggity. Nice. I didn't know you two, my blood related ancestors, who share the same exact face as me, both happen to be gay. This is wonderful for my weird sexual fantasies I never knew I had before seeing you both at the same time." Desmond whistled.

"I have been in love with you the moment the apple showed you to me, Desmond." Altair's deep, baritone voice muttered. "It is because of the apple we are here. You have changed me, Desmond, changed me into a homosexual. I can't even look at Maria. All I wanted to see was you. Women are icky."

"Enough of this talk of women. Who is ready for some Italian meatballs?" Ezio asked them both, removing his clothes suddenly. Altair nodded his head yes, pulling down his hood with his gigantic yaoi hands.

"Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell?" But Desmond's boner wouldn't stop just because of Altair's deformity.

"Meh, whatever. Order up! Who else is ready to dine because I am one hungry customer." Desmond yelled out, ripping off his clothes like they were made of paper.

and just like that, altair, desmond and ezio made out and did teh sex.

end