It had been another really, really long, hard day.
Shadow walked into his kitchen, and plopped down on one of his hard, metal chairs.

"Fucking work." He muttered. He stared at an empty soda can across the table from him, and reached over to flick it over.

"I don't deserve to do such menial tasks. After all, I AM the ultimate life form. I should be doing much more important things, like saving the world from ultimate destruction, or pretending to look cool." He sniffed irritatedly, and stiffly stood back up, and went over to his refrigerator. It was unplugged, because, see, the ultimate lifeform does not worry about dysentery, or even salmonella. That would be totally not ultimate.
He opened the half-broken door, and stared.

Mold.
Bad milk- when the fuck did it turn that green?
Rotted fruit.
Ahhh, string cheese.

He pulled it out, and slammed the stupid, broken door shut again. He paused, and then started peeling his string cheese.

"Goddammit, why am I eating this? It's processed."
Peel.

"I work at fucking McDonald's, where everything is processed."
Anger.

"This is so, so not ultimate at all. I DO NOT DO PROCESSED."
Somehow, the cheesestick managed to be now stuck on the opposing wall. Shadow assumed that he had thrown it. He hesitated, and with a sigh, noticed the many, many other cheeseticks that were stuck to the wall, from the same thoughts arising day after day. God knows what on the wall was making them stick.

Fucking humans.

Shadow turned irritatedly on his heels, and walked back into the main room of his tiny kitchen. It was dimly lit, sticky, gross, and smelled of many diseases and rotten things.

"Aha. I know how to fix this." His step quickened, and almost a smile stretched his face out. But, alas, it could not stretch, for he was not programmed for happiness.

He opened up dusty cupboards, and ignored the billions of little spiders that started crawling out of the faded, ugly used-to-be white things. He dug deep within them, until his hand hit what he was looking for.
"Hah, bitch. I've found you."
He grunted, and pulled hard, and a small box lurched out of the cupboard. It was old, beaten up, and totally used.
"Fuck this processed shit. Fuck it all."

He ripped open the limp cardboard, and pulled out a blender.
He looked at it smugly.
"Yeah. Fuck them. I'll make my own goddamn food. Maybe, like, a smoothie. That's totally ultimate."

He ran to the broken door of his fridge, and pulled out every piece of rotten fruit, and got the stupid green milk. Yeah- that'll be lovely. It'll do nicely for our black man, Shadow.

He plugged the damn thing in, and waiting for it to start.

"What the fuck is this? I gotta press the fucking button?" he screamed, and almost lost it. However, since he IS the ultimate lifeform, he would never, ever lose it.

Cool.
Calm.

He pressed the little button that says "Blend", and watches his shit blend. Well, kinda. It just smeared a lot.
It was thick, that stuff in there.

Mmmmm. Yummy.
Fuck. NO. The ultimate lifeform will not think of such things.

He turned away, quickly, and played with the manly white fur on his chest. He liked that fur, a lot. It was ultimate, of course.

He heard the blender blend his once sweet berries, and thick, thick milk that was now rotten cream, and fingered his fur a little faster.
There was something familiar about that sound- it reminded him of the ARK, back when things were good. Yes.
Back when he didn't have to process fucking food for fucking fatties.

Mmmmmmmm, Maria. How he missed her.

Clumps of fur started getting caught in his fingers now.

He let his eyes trail. First to the ugly, old, moldy ceiling, to his sticky kitchen counter, and back to the blender.

Wow, that shit was thick.

He let his whole body slowly turn around, and watched it.

Then he let go of the tight clench on his fur, and held his breath to stop the panting.

"THIS IS NOT ULTIMATE, AT ALL. HOW HUMANLY OF ME." he roared to the blender, and glared at its awfulness, and just got a reply of the loud whir.

Then again.
That sound.
So heavenly.

Maria...

...!

He felt the gasps coming back.

Shadow stared at the blender, and walked closer to it.

One hand stroked the blender glass length, while the right stroked his.

And he begun to understand!111! NOW HE KNEW!

NOW HE WAS TEH ULTIMATE!

His left hand was so, so very curious, and happy, and he rubbed the blender's glass. Harder.
Faster.

He ran his hand gingerly along the base, and felt all of the intricate bumps, beautiful dials, and sweet butto-

A click.
The whirring slowed, down to nothing.

Shadow's eyes popped open again, and his head jerked down to see what was the matter.
He had pressed the blend button.
He fucking turned it off.

*NEXT DAY*

Sonic came over, and Sonic didn't like it there. It was scary, dark, and really, really smelly.

But this time, it smelled even worse- like, spoiled milk and rotten fruit.

"I see you added to your cheesestick collection."

"Just shut the fuck up, you stupid asshole."

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Nothing. Just shut up."

"Jesus, you need to calm down, you liitle retar-" his words were cut short, as he stared in awe at the kitchen.

Mess. Some sort of thick mess, all over the walls.

"What the fuck?"

"I told you to SHUT UP."

Shadow walked away, to get Sonic's shoes he had left the other night. (No, don't ask. HEDGEHOGS HAVE PERSONAL LIVES TOO!11!) Sonic just stared.

The whole kitchen was coated in the brown, green, kinda blue mess, and bits of glass and plastic were scattered on the floor. Nothing was in order, and the refrigerator door has finally been ripped off.

"Here's your goddamn shoes." Shadow muttered, and stared right at Sonic.

He stared back.

"Yeah, uhh, nice seeing you. Uhhh. Bye." Sonic quietly took his shoes, walked around the mess, and left.

"He just wasn't ultimate enough."

Kiki Firestar - 2010