That same day a man with hair dyed to the color of the deep sea who wore a fine pair of glasses was recording a 'Reading Your Comments' session. His YouTube name was very popular, almost iconic, and that name was none other than Markiplier. Markiplier was the inspiring clown beloved by over a million people. Mark cleared his throat and did his intro, "Hello everybody MY name is Markiplier and today I will be reading and replying to the comments I've picked out from recent uploads. Swell! Now lets see what we've got here, shall we?" He spoke in a silly tone with wiggly eyebrows and an open-mouthed smile, he also had a thumb up in approval. The first comment to pop up was one that read, 'OMG mark you are so funny I choked on my air! Yolo!' Mark nodded with a chuckle, his deep, manly chuckle to be exact. He glanced at the camera and said, "Make sure to chew your air thoroughly before using the internet, kids." He then clicked to the next comment, which was a question that asked, 'Aww, Mark, why did you change your hair color to blue? I was getting used to the pink! :(' Mark sat up straight and answered while motioning his hands. "I dyed my hair blue because even though I really do like pink, I thought that this color would look cool. I do like how it looks and plan on keeping it for a while, sorry!" He raised both his hands up in fake surrender, with puffed cheeks for emphasis.
Mark sniffed, he had a stuffed nose today for an unknown reason. He clicked, ready for the next comment. 'MARK MARK I heard that the annual YouTube convention thingy is in 4 DAYS! I'm SO going! Are you excited?!' Mark nodded quickly and answered, "Hell yeah, I'm excited! I'm gonna be seeing fans, my bros, gonna be a VIP and all that fantastic shiz!" He threw his head back yelling, "Party time, everybody! Woooo! I'm going to release the beast! Hahaha, not really, but I am very thrilled." He smiled, remembering the last time he saw the others was quite some time ago. Wade could visit whenever he wanted, and Felix too, but Jack and Bob lived so far away that get-togethers were almost impossible. Mark missed Jack and Bob, but mostly Jack for some reason. Mark strangely found himself spending the most time with the Irish dude whenever possible. They made each other laugh the most, and they got along so well. Mark was done with the comments video by three o' clock; however, his day was not over. He had lots of things to check over before thinking he was ready for the trip to New York City.
Mark left his studio room and scratched his chest, so many things running around his head. He stepped into the next room, the living room, and exhaled loudly at the large unpacked suitcase staring at him. "Okay, I might as well do it now so everything can be out of the way," he said grudgingly to himself. He lifted a small box, stacked it on top of another one, and scanned the floor for any missing necessities. Mark carefully planned out in his head how long it took to get to NYC from LA. He counted the quantity of hours on his big fingers. "God, forty-five...maybe even two days? If they can go at about driving speed then I should be a free bagel for...fifty-two or so hours! Holy shit, that's a long time! How great the drive will be, hehe. Damnit." He hung his head down with a groan. Things would be less stressful in a few days, he just knew it. After all that math he strolled into the kitchen and instinctively opened the fridge door. He immediately reached for the jug of apple juice, but somehow the handle slipped from his fingers and descend to the tiled floor, juice gusting out all over. "God daMNIT ALL TO THE FUCK FACTORY!" Mark shouted at the spill senselessly, then picked up the now partially empty gallon of apple juice. His feet were soaked now, and he couldn't find the cap. "Damnit all, everything and everyone, damn it." He took a step back, but only to have the bottom of his foot come in contact with the downside of the cap. Mark retracted his foot and hopped on one leg while holding his right foot in a pained gesture.
"SON OF A-DAUGGHH! WHY ME? WHY ME?" He hopped on a single foot out of the deathtrap/kitchen and collapsed onto his sofa. Mark flailed around on it like a child, kicking the pillows off. He growled at nothing in particular; nevertheless, the kitchen tried to kill him. "Never trust your apple juice as far as you can throw it, because it will boomerang back and murder your entire family with its tasty, evil, fruity blood from HELL!" Mark shouted to the kitchen; stupid apple juice. After around five minutes of being a baby, Mark got back up and grabbed a mop from the storage closet. He went back to the kitchen on his tip-toes, his eyes searching for bombs or something to 'get him'. After realizing that the coast was clear he mopped up the spill with watchful eyes. "I'm watching you..." he said to the silver fridge in front of him. His grip on the mop was tight, like it was his battle weapon and he mustn't lose it. His dog Lego came into the kitchen with a wagging tail and a tongue hanging out as it dripped drool onto the floor. Mark whipped his head around, pointed to Lego and scolded, "I saw that! I saw what you did, you sly dog, you pig with fur!" Lego closed his jaw and tilted his head, ears perked up. The blue-haired man laughed then knelt down to give his companion a hug. "I'm only joking, bud. I can't stay mad at you or the kitchen. I love you both." The dog wiggled its rump left to right, a visible grin on his furry face. Mark stood back up to finish mopping, and after he was all done he put away the mop. He pointed two gun fingers at the cleaning tool and clicked his tongue at it. "Til next time, mippy moppy." He closed the door to the storage area with a creak.
Mark sighed, removing his glasses to rub the center between his eyes. A lot has gone on this past year, close friends lost, a heartbreaking break-up, and just tons of stress. Honestly he wanted to forget all of it, just to start off a new year happily. He felt this since New Years, but memories of those gloomy times struck back sometimes without warning. Something as simple as Daniel's favorite show being on TV, or Stephanie's famous cakes staring at him through the phone on twitter. Mark did his best though to stay positive, he had so many other friends, and there was always somebody who cared. Always. This upcoming convention is a huge example. Mark decided to make a phone call, so he pulled out his android smart phone and slid his finger across the screen, searching his contacts. The cover of his phone resembled his tiny box Tim character. A name which Mark knew very well popped up on the screen, making him grin; his free hand was searching through his mail that lay on the counter top. The caller's phone was ringing, ringing, ringing, but only led to a robotic voice apologizing for the caller not being available. Mark frowned in annoyance then put the phone grudgingly back into his flannel shirt pocket. "Okay, well then I guess I'll just have to co-op with somebody else!" Mark had planned on doing a co-op with Felix but the guy wouldn't pick up! Oh well, the opportunity was gone now for Pewdiepie. To tell the truth Mark only planned on playing a co-op with him because he'd be in town. They had a scheduled time to meet at Mark's house but it was almost three hours past that time. "Well, shit. Now what?" He mumbled, his eyes hit a green coffee mug, thus sprouting an idea in his head.
