A/N: OMFG, I LIVE! XD, I actually blame my new obsession with Golden Sun 2, not school, for this. I'm getting kinda sick of Kingdom Hearts... well, I am still writing this story along with a little GS2 fanfiction... _ *hugs Piers/Picard/whatever the hell you call him*
I just noticed my writing style matured or something, and I seem to write more sarcastic humor than random humor. Is this a bad thing?
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Anyway, Little Blond Prancing Boy pranced his way into trouble again! Yes, it was yet another story-bookish ... scene...
"What is this? I smell the scent of sugary, fattening treats in the air!" Little Blond Prancing Boy proclaimed with glee. He fell upon the dirt road and started scuttling towards the scent, the picnic basket trailing behind him, tied by a string.
And lo and behold, a wet, soggy Margret trailed behind him, also assuming the scuttling fashion. The two boys (it's hard to believe Margret, being considerably taller and looking quite older than Little Blond Prancing Boy, could be referred to as a boy, but that's what Gamespot and IGN say) scuttled about for some time, Little Blond Prancing Boy following the scent of simple carbohydrates and Margret trying to find the ample opportunity to pounce on the basket of drugs.
This went on for several minutes, until Little Blond Prancing Boy's eyes saw sweet proof that his nose did not deceive him. The dirt road before him transformed into a suddenly clean trail made up of what looked like melted Jolly Ranchers decorated with Starburst.
"SUCCESS!" Little Blond Prancing Boy cheered, jumping up. The picnic basket was slid over at the exact moment Margret decided to pounce on it. The end result was Little Blond Prancing Boy fleeing further down the path and Margret getting a bloody, possibly broken nose.
The Jolly Rancher/Starburst road of rainbow sugary wonders led to the most wonderful sight Little Blond Prancing Boy had ever seen: A house made up of copyrighted candy brands! The very walls were also made up of melted Jolly Ranchers, the fence was made of Kit-Kat bars, the garden was growing tropical Starburst, the door and window frames were pure Hershey chocolate, and there was the traditional candy cane support beams.
A very large drool puddle had formed under Little Blond Prancing Boy's feet by now.
Of course, there obviously was someone living in the house. Of course, that someone was evil. And just to annoy you, that evil someone was in the first chapter.
That's right: Blackcoat returned for a second time!
"Bwaha, I have become a recurring antagonist, just like Margret! Just without the gay name!" Blackcoat cackled. Actually, he was just pissed off he could not consume/rape Margret or Little Blond Prancing Boy. But this time, he shall!
"Geez, it must be really safe in that house! There must be a friendly person living there ready to share their bounty!" Little Blond Prancing Boy happily decided, being way too optimistic for someone his age.
He pranced right up to wafflestick porch and knocked on the shortcake cookie door. It creaked open, revealing Blackcoat looming there in an overly evil manner, a fake brown mustache attached to where the lip WOULD be on his hood.
"... Jeez, you look familiar..." Little Blond Prancing Boy thought, tilting his head to get a better look at the cloaked figure before him. Yet he didn't know anyone with a cheesy, clichéd mustache.
"Um... you do not know me." Blackcoat coughed. "But that doesn't change the fact I have enough candy to give the entire world population ten toothaches." He cackled, gesturing to the inside of the house.
Looking over his intended victim's shoulder, Blackcoat noticed two very strange things: Margret was still crouching behind Little Blond Prancing Boy, poised to strike like a cobra, and the outside of the house was still intact with no bite marks.
"You didn't try to eat the house?" Blackcoat asked in disbelief.
"... Eeew, no, people stepped all over it..." Little Blond Prancing Boy made a disgusted face as he replied. As if the entire notion of eating a candy house was ridiculous, but assuming that whoever lived in aforementioned house had extra unpoisoned candy to spare was not.
"Well, whatever. Come on in." Blackcoat flowed (yes, flowed) out of the way, his movement almost liquid.
Little Blond Prancing Boy thought it was sexy. YESSSSSSS.
Blackcoat grinned with sadistic glee as he slammed the door...
...right in Margret's face.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Margret screamed, not bothering to stick with the less offensive abbreviation. The angry mage internally fumed outside on the porch, quickly forming a plan to sneak into the house. The door was made of EXTREMELY STALE bread, and thus was as solid as a rock. Maybe even more.
His crazed green eyes quickly scanned the front yard. He could probably use a candy cane as a battering ram or something and break the sugar-glass windows. It was not the stealthiest way in, but it was the quickest. Besides, Margret wanted those drugs really bad.
It was a good thing Margret decided to do this, because things were not looking good for our hero inside the house...
The first thing Little Blond Prancing Boy noticed was that instead of the mounds and mounds of tasty, yet copyrighted candy that one would normally find in a candy house, what he found was a bed with shortbread cookie chains attached to the posts, various whips, and assorted sex toys, from vibrators to lubricants that were placed on a desk made of actual wood.
Yep. I feel this fic has earned it's R rating now.
"... Um." was all Little Blond Prancing Boy could say of this.
"Yes. Isn't it lovely?" Blackcoat cackled, gliding past the stunned future-fucktoy. He (she? it?) stood in front of the desk, prodding the different amounts of sex items, and trying to decide what would be the best one.
Little Blond Prancing Boy blinked...
...then screamed and slammed himself into the door, clawing and scratching at the stale-breadness of the sole thing blocking him from Grandma's house and an extra hole in his ass.
Yet the stale door held, cackling at the poor confused boy while he screamed for mercy. And Blackcoat wasn't even done picking lubricant yet.
Meanwhile, Margret had made his way to the side of the house, whistling merrily with a candy cane support he had wrenched from the side of the house safely tucked under his arm. The house groaned and would have smacked Margret or something, but it was an inanimate object, so it couldn't do anything.
"Stupid house." Margret cackled, sensing it's hateful thoughts directed at him.
The red haired Moomba mutation ("HEY!" Margret growled) stopped as soon as he reached the sugar-glass window. Through the thin, clear (and edible!) substance, Margret could see the screaming figure of Little Blond Prancing Boy running all over the small house while Blackcoat was preoccupied on whether he should use condoms or not.
Stepping back slightly, Margret grabbed the middle of the candy cane and drew his arm back, then slammed the oversized treat into the window with much force. The glass cracked and magically redirected itself to Margret's head, slicing the air and embedding itself into the redhair's hair.
Margret soon realized that the window wasn't sugar-glass after all.
"FUCKING HELL, IT'S REAL GLASS!" Margret cried, falling to the ground and joining the chorus of screams that rang clear in the air. The glass would smile if it could, but it just contented itself with drilling through Margret's skull and devouring the tasty brain meats inside.
Margret then realized not only was this real glass, it was real ZOMBIE glass.
"NOOOOO!!! YOU CAN'T HAVE MY BRAIN MEATS!" Margret hissed, having an epic battle with the glass shards. I would write it down, but I'm too lazy. MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
Whilst Margret had his epic battle with the Zombie Glass Shards, Little Blond Prancing Boy had stopped running around and screaming long enough to find out that the window was devoid of glass, and thus, sweet freedom filtered from it.
"FREEDOM!!!" Little Blond Prancing Boy cackled with glee, and he fled to the window, jumping up, grabbing the sill and toppling over the edge. He landed on something somewhat soft and writhing (gee, I wonder whom that could be?) and sped off without even looking back, the picnic basket bouncing after him.
Blackcoat finally realized that something was going on behind him. Turning around, the startled figure found out that, once again, Little Blond Prancing Boy had escaped from his clutches.
"Damn it!" Blackcoat swore softly, in contrast to all the screaming. He sadly trudged through the room and out the door, thinking he was doomed to a life of lonely masturbation.
Then he remembered he was a recurring villain.
"Yes..." He snickered, stroking a non-existent beard. He was forming a plot in his experienced villain mind, when his foot came in contact with a rolling red and black body. Startled, Blackcoat looked down...
...and found Margret, who won the war with the Zombie Glass Shards, but spent all his strength. And here he was, lying in a vulnerable pile at Blackcoat's feet.
If Blackcoat ever bothered to take his mysterious hood off, you would have seen a humongous grin, stretching from ear to ear.
"I'M GETTING ME SOME LOVING TONIGHT!" Blackcoat happily sang while he dragged Margret back to the candy house.
Oh dear.
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A/N (again!): XDDDDD this was fun to write. I probably offended lots of people, but last time I checked, there were quite a few yaoi fans here (at least, I think so), and besides, I needed this thing to be R. Blargh.
Up next: Little Blond Prancing Boy and the Six Stages of Drug Addiction.