A/N: Yep, I went there. I wrote a crack fic revolving around Near. I hope to make you pee your pants laughing, or at least make you laugh enough to make you get some strange looks from those around you.

Oh, and here's the full summary:

Near went and made himself a toy company called 'Near's Toy Company' (creative, right?)Then, he decided to jump start his creative thinking by getting high off his ass. Yeah, that just happened. So in this story we document the horrific toys that he put on the market while under the influence of drugs. Most of these just parody actual toys, but hey, it's funny. Read at your own risk ;P

…Still reading? Good, there are some crazy people out there. So, why don't you just read the story now, okay?

Note: This chapter parodies that stupid new game called 'Doggie Doo' or something. And it's in the form of an ad. Oh crap.

A strange voice coming from nowhere, yet everywhere, spoke in a deep, overly enthusiastic voice.

"Hey kids, do you like dogs?"

A group of small children looked up from whatever crap they were previously attending to. "Yeah!" They all cheered.

"But are your parents too mean (or allergic) to let you have one?"

The mysterious voice was just as cheery as ever. The kids, however, suddenly looked all sad. "Yeah…"

"But do you really want a dog?"

"YES!" The children cheered as flames flew from their eyes, personifying their passion for canines.

"Are you even willing to pick up it's feces?"

The kids looked around and at each other. "What's a 'feces'?"

"Then you need the 'Doggie Shit on the Carpet!"

The voice exclaimed without waiting for a response. Suddenly, a plastic beagle with some plastic kibble appeared in the middle of the group of kids who immediately gasped as if this was scripted.

"The 'Doggie Shit on the Carpet' is just like having a real dog who just so happens to be made of plastic! You can pet it…"

The kids all started stroking the plastic dog's amazingly soft and fluffy plastic fur that it didn't have. "Yay!" The children cheered.

"…Feed it…"

The kids then began shoving plastic kibble into the toy's mouth in a manner that would either kill or traumatize an actual dog. "Yay!" They continued to cheer.

"…And clean up it's authentic puppy poo-poo!"

On cue, a pile of actual poop dropped out of the plastic dog's plastic butt. The kids had stopped saying 'yay' and just sat there with their mouth agape until one of them decided to say, "That's so nasty! This commercial isn't worth the money if a toy is gonna poop on me!"

The voice then sounded very angry.

"I SAID CLEAN UP THE GOD DAMN POOP!"

One of the children gasped. "He said a dirty wordy!"

"JUST CLEAN IT UP, OR YOU'LL NEVER SEE YOUR PARENTS AGAIN!"

As the voice said this, fire started spraying from the ceiling. The kids all screamed like frightened kittens and scrambled to clean up the poop.

"The 'Doggie Shit on the Carpet' is equipped with an actual digestive system, allowing it to turn the plastic you shove in it's face into real poop!"

One of the kids who had started crying, looked up at the ceiling. "Why would anybody want that?"

"SHUT UP AND CLEAN! DO IT, OR MOMMY'S GOING TO GET HER FINGERS CHOPPED OFF!"

The child squeaked and got back to work. The voice then resumed it's cheery tone.

"And what's more, if you don't feed it for a week, the toy's 'die and decay' mode will kick in, and it will stop working and excrete a horrendous smell that can only be equaled by a baby's fresh diarrhea!"

A little girl looked toward the ceiling. "You are a sick, cruel person! No one will buy this!"

Keeping it's cheery tone, the voice responded:

"Sure they will, because I'll hold you captive here until we sell eleventy-twelve million of them!"

All of the kids stopped what they were doing. "Say WHAT?"

"The 'Doggie Shit on the Carpet'! Buy yours today, or else these kids will be trapped here forever and we will torture their parents!"

You could practically see the smile on the voice's unseen face as he said this. By now, the children were running around, screaming, and a 1-800 number had appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Call 1-800-HOSTAGES to get your Doggie Shit on the Carpet for double the price, but with free shipping!

Call Now!

A/N: I'll admit, that was a little more sick and twisted than I had originally planned; but we all need a healthy dose of dark humor, right? Anyway, if you liked it, please review. If you want to make sure the next chapter isn't this screwed up, review. If you want the next chapter to be MORE screwed up, review.

And if you want to order this product, smack yourself across the face, call yourself an idiot, draw a mustache on your face in Sharpie, and realize it's not a real product and there are no real hostages. And then you can review.