Hi. For all you people that read the story before I revised it, I will delete your reviews so you can comment on the new, hopefully more smooth version. Okay? Goody. Now Chapter 3 of the new version.

No Perspective, Third Person Omniscient

"Wait. I know where I am."

Rigby opened the door with visible awe. He looked around at the once comforting details of his old home. He pocketed his gun and slowly closed the door behind him as he sighed a heavy breath of sadness for the place he once resided.

"This place has really gone to hell.." he muttered as he walked into the shattered perspective of a living room. The once extremely comfortable couch had been reduced to shreds. The television.. Not a chance. A sheath of some sort for a sword Rigby didn't recognize sat on top of the destroyed entertainment center. The walls had been reduced to chips of wood and paint.

Rigby shook his head with disbelief. This place used to be so nice.. he thought to himself as he trekked into the kitchen. But what he saw revived his attitude. The kitchen resembled almost exactly what it used to be like. The table sat in the middle of the room, but with part of a leg missing. Several books had been shoved under the appendage to keep it upright. The refrigerator seemed like it still worked, as a quiet hum came from its general direction. He raced over to it and swung the door open. His mouth dropped.

Food. Delicious, glorious food. Cheese. Sliced ham. Butter. A lot of other things, but Rigby really didn't give a fuck at that point. He jumped over to a nearby cabinet and the same beautiful sight befell him. More delectable things; bread, peanut butter, oh, it made Rigby drool at the sight of everything. He grabbed a slice of bread, preparing to create a fancy meal of a peanut butter sandwich with a side of ham. All right, so it wasn't all that fancy, but at this rate it would be delicious all the same.

As Rigby turned to find a butter knife, he heard a shuffling in the other room. He quickly put it off as the couch falling apart even further. The nearest drawer opened to reveal several utensils, including a knife. Rigby swiftly took it and began slathering peanut butter onto it. He turned to receive the other piece of bread.. that is, if there wasn't a gun pointed in his face.

"I don't think I'd move if I were you." the person wielding the weapon said, his eyes squinted. He wielded to Rigby what looked like a .44 Magnum, with the safety turned off. Rigby gulped.

"What are you doing eating our food?" the man said, nudging Rigby with the gun point. His finger was twitching dangerously close to the trigger, and it made Rigby feel horribly on edge. Rigby eyed the man quickly, looking at his height, build, among other things. The guy seemed maybe 5'3". But Rigby was only 4'1", last he checked. Not a good matchup, Rigby thought as he gripped the butter knife still in his hand.

On impulse, Rigby swung the knife at the gunman, knocking the gun out of his hand. The guy's face showed severe shock, but he shook his head as he swung at Rigby. He dodged, chucking the knife at the man. It was caught, the catcher growling in anger. Rigby gulped once more and took out his Glock, pointing it at him.

The man widened his eyes in fear. He backed up quickly, leaning against the fridge for support. His face showed a mixture of emotions; the majority of which was fright. Rigby loosened his grip on the pistol in his hands. His eyes scanned back over his build. A crucial fact shot into his mind.

The guy couldn't even be 16 yet. He wasn't going to kill a child, no matter how old.

Rigby dropped the gun onto the floor with a clang. The teenager sighed with relief and slid to the floor.

"Why.. didn't you kill me?" he said in between heavy breaths. Rigby shook his head.

"How old are you?" he said quietly.

"Fifteen.." Rigby was barely correct with his theory. 15.

"You have a name, don't you?" Rigby said, walking over to the teen and holding a hand out. He took it and said, "Aaron."

"Rigby." Rigby sighed as he heaved Aaron up. Aaron raised a brow.

"Rigby? You say your name is.. Rigby?" he said in transparent awe. Rigby shrugged. Aaron sighed.

"Like, Rigby Salyers?" he said. Again, Rigby shrugged.

"Is there an issue?" Rigby inquired. Aaron shook his head. "Anyway, how do you know my name?"

"I have my ways," Aaron smirked. "But enough about that. Hungry?" He walked over to the area where the knife landed and picked it up, along with his Magnum. Rigby ran over to the table and sat down, placing his feet on the tabletop. Food usually got to his sweet spot. Besides, Aaron didn't really didn't seem like much of a threat anymore.. Aaron chuckled. "Give me a second. I can make more than just a peanut butter sandwich.."

A full smorgasboard of food was made, devoured within an hour by the two.

So. How was that compared to the previous chapters 3 and 4? I smushed them together. Seemed more.. good.

(Yeah, that's how people talk.)

Some people talk like that.

(Kindergarteners, maybe.)

Ugh.. Stop arguing. Anyways, hope for the best and review! That's what motivates me to rewrite this! Until next time!