Poptart Notes: What? No edits? *pouts* Fine, be that way.

FEED THE AUTHOR RAWRZ

"Brains" ©Voltaire (the musician, you silly geese)

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Chapter 9: That Which Does Not Kill Us Only Serves to Make Us Stronger—Oh, What in the F*ck.

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After about another minute of the sputtering hysterics, everybody left in the room fell prey to deep gasps for air in a feeble attempt to calm themselves.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay…" Buford panted. "So, apparently, the Chocolate Factory has decided to go on strike, and in a big way!"

Slowly trudging along, the orange humans made their way through town.

At this moment, Candace came back into the room with not only a once-again dripping Baljeet, but also an armload of Albert, who was protesting her redelivering of him like a bratty child.

"You can't make me! I won't do it!"

"Just shut. Up. And. WATCH." Candace demanded as she threw both the older and younger boys into their previous chairs.

Leaping up onto the fleeing felines and attaching their mouths to their skulls, the undead humans killed the cats on contact, with them falling down dead as they sucked out pieces of brain.

"Brains, brains, I won't lie!" Phineas began to sing, bobbing a bit as though there were music playing. "I'll eat their brains till they're zombified! Sure, they might think it's deranged, but they won't give it a thought after I've eaten their brains!"

"Ew!" Isabella recoiled. "No, Phineas!"

"I'm sorry."

The screen then cut to the image of some of the undead leaning onto each other's skulls in an attempt to receive sustenance. I guess. Don't judge me; I'm just the exposition master. I can't even tell what the fragidoodle is going on here.

"Hsst!" Irving hissed. "Steve! Stop breathing on my neck!

The image closed in on one dead cat sprawled upon the pavement. Suddenly, sparse drops of a rosy liquid began to dabble across the concrete, the camera shot rolled upwards to reveal several green tree frogs, with propellers on their heads, fluttering about the sky and spitting down the pink substance to the Earth below.

Everybody sat in silence, jaws slightly dropped, before everyone shook their heads and shot forth in their chairs, making exasperated hand gestures and exclaiming, "WORST! APOCALYPSE! EVER!"

The shot cut to the image of the Eye high up in the gray storm, blinking as it glared down upon the citizens.

"Oh, lord, why did I sign on to be in this pile?" Albert muttered, speaking for the Eye.

And then, total darkness.

"The entire filmmaking staff was found dead at the bottom of a lake three weeks later. There were no survivors." Candace announced. Buford clapped.

"HOORAY!"

After Buford's applauding died off, there was a silence in the room. Everybody glanced around awkwardly as the image remained black.

"Is the movie over, or what?" Baljeet asked.

"Phineas, are we dead?" Irving leaned over to the triangle-headed boy.

"No, no we aren't." Phineas replied. "And you know?" He stood up. "Maybe this is for the best. Take a look around. Are we bleeding? Writhing? In what a doctor would call critical condition? No! We're all okay! And that's to our benefit! Don't you guys understand? We're watching this hideous movie, and nothing bad has happened to us! In fact, we've gained some strange obscure film trivia for all this that we can use to our advantage on Jeopardy someday!"

"What, you mean when Jeopardy elimination means falling into a volcano to certain doom?" Albert asked.

"Heck, no!" Phineas exclaimed. "You don't see? We can defeat this movie! We can move past it! We're…stronger just if we can get through it! And we can get through it!"

"Yeah!" Everybody cried out in response.

"Now, let's sit down and—"

Slowly, against the black, red credits rolled along.

"OF ALL THE MORONIC, HIDEOUS, NO-GOOD COP OUTS…" Phineas sputtered.

"Oh lord." Candace sighed. "It's finally happened. He's snapped.

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To be concluded…