Disclaimer: I still don't own S-Cry-ed. Sorry. If I did, I'd whore it out something awful, so it's probably for the best.
Getting into crack pairings now. Enjoy, and review. More to come.
Yes, this was heaven. He had his lover. He had his work. He considered himself lucky to have his two great passions in life. Why, few men indeed could lay claim to such joy, especially in this day and age! While so many went through life lonely, stuck in dead-end jobs that slowly rotted away their souls, he reveled in his own private paradise!
Okay, it wasn't perfect.
He was a writer for a children's show on the mainland these days. Something called "The Fuzzle-Wuzzle Schnoogly-Doos."
Honestly, he thought it was shit. After his first day of work, he had decided that if he ever had kids, they wouldn't be allowed to watch such a thing for fear of it rotting their minds into a grayish sugary goo. Or turning them into serial killers.
And he hated his coworkers. It wasn't that they disdained him for being an alter user. No, they didn't even believe him when he told them. They said alter users were supposed to be intimidating and strong.
No, they mocked his hair. The soft, bright, glorious pink afro he had spent his entire life cultivating into a work of art that could possibly rival his scripts! And they MOCKED it! They laughed at his lack of eyebrows, too. They said things like, "Hey, think that poodle on his head ate his eyebrows?"
He tried to share his real work with them, once. Most of them wouldn't even read it. Those who did couldn't stop laughing. His boss… Oh, his boss, that utter bastard, used it to line the cage of that damned parrot who thought it was SO SPECIAL because it was more colorful than him!
Oh, indeed he was unfortunate to work with such cretins.
And maybe his home life wasn't so great, either.
At first, they had been happy, in spite of the fact that his dearest was an overweight, brain-damaged alter user who couldn't say anything other than the word "hammer." He found it charming, then.
But then he got so stressed out from work. And his sweetie got so obsessed with that damn hobby of his… What did those hammers have that he couldn't offer!
And after a while, he started to long for intellectual stimulation. He wasn't asking for Shakespeare. He just grew weary of the one sided conversations…
"I'm working on a new script, honey. It's about a young girl in love!"
"Hammer."
"Alas, the object of her affections is a pimp!"
"Hammer?"
"I believe it will go over well with the critics. It shall be GENIUS!"
"Hammer!"
"DAMN IT, BIFF, IT'S ALWAYS HAMMERS WITH YOU!"
"HAAAAAAAMMMMMMMEEEEERRRRRRR!"
Oh, well. It could be worse. He could be that Kimishima guy.
That guy had the shittiest luck he'd ever seen.
Yes. That was Unkei x Biff. And now that your brains have exploded, ask the person standing behind you to call an ambulance and then write a review while you wait for it to arrive.