HAHAHAHAHAheheheHAHAHA
HAW.
Oh maaaan.
Let me tell you about my exciting day. I know you all read my author's notes, because they're all just so damned interesting.
Me and Josh snuck into Batman, technically we bought tickets to the Mummy 3, but within the first.. I don't know. Let's just guesstimate. Five minutes, maybe? I got bored of it and we snuck into Batman, 'cause we're sneaky.
He memorized every single line to that movie. Lmfao it was hilarious. Well, not all lines. Just Joker's. Of course.
BUT BUT BUT…
Rachel Dawes dying.
Holy hell.
It gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME.
Its like..
"Oh, well someone will come--" BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
YOU'RE DEAD, YOU TWO-TIMING WHORE
PAHAHAHAHA!!
And we laughed. And we laughed. And we laughed.
And people stared at us like we were sick.
But anyway. More things happened, like I got my schedule and such, but eh. This isn't some kind of live journal, here. So here we are.
Here's the chapter.
Nothing makes any sense in it. Don't bother trying to understand it.
Disclaimer! I don't own TDK
--
EVER WONDER WHAT ALFRED DID WHEN JOKER AND BATMAN FOUGHT?
NO?
ME EITHER!
BUT HERE'S MY IDEA OF WHAT WENT ON!
Cruising down the road in his shag van, Alfred looked G'd up from his head to his feet. Sporting a fro and a grill, he was irresistible to ladies of all ages. Gotham was a dangerous city, and he was just the man to make it even more..
Dangerous.. -er.
Yeah, I invented a word for him just to show you how dangerous he is.
He was a drug dealer, part time because everybody knows butlers don't make that much money. He was also an indie singer that was bent on telling everyone how gloomy the word was, from the point of view of a boy who sat in a wheelchair for one day in Wal-Mart and got pushed down the stairs.
Cruising down the street of Gotham, he smiled.
I'm not great at keeping Alfred in character.
Or describing the streets in which you drive on.
"Nice night to be driving," Alfred said, "On a road."
"Yeah.." All the girls said hotly, drooling of over the car because of the eighty year old man's delicious chest hairs that seemed to be sticking out of the leisure suit.
Alfred glanced into the mirror, catching sight of a pimpmobile gaining on him.
OH NO.
IT WAS ONE OF THE ASSASSINS!
Haha, have you ever noticed assassin has 'ass' twice in it?
Hokay, back to the chapter.
Murray-Sam! In all his glory was now tailing Alfred in the shag van.
OH NO!
Murray-Sam pulled out a shotgun and began trying to blow out Alfred's tires, but then luckily a rocketship fell out of the sky from China's space program and he died in a fiery, disturbing mess.
"Wow!" Crystal, a girl with brown spikey hair walked out of the theatre in a cute hoodie and jeans. "Mama Mia was amazing!" She grinned, spinning around in the street happily.
"Good to be me, Crystal! Good to be alive!"
Alfred then hit her with his shag van.
"OH MY GOD!" He screamed, then backed up to see if she was okay.
"You can break my bones, but you can't break my spirit!" She cried out, spitting blood everywhere.
Sadly he backed over her body and broke her spirit. Then, decided it was time to hit the road.
So he got out of the van and smashed the asphalt with a hammer.
Oh, look at that pun.
Hahaha. POW!
A gun was fired at him, and he quickly turned around to stare at none other than the elite assassin, Ri!
"Ri, you she-devil! I don't know how British people talk so I will now proceed to say Blimey! And Bullocks!"
Ri shot at him a few more times, and Alfred amazing dodged it like Neo from the Matrix.
Only he hurt his back because he's old.
"Dangnabbit! The blow from the guns bullets has made my false teeth fly from my mouth! Now I'm utterly helpless!" He cried out in pain.
Luckily a leprechaun was around to give him the magic faerie dust to put Ri back into her lamp that looked surprisingly like a bong.
"Nooooooo!" She cried out, before retracting herself back into the lamp.. Bong thing, that was a lovely shade of violet purple.
"Thanks Urchin man!" The Leprechaun said before riding off on a unicorn into the fiery gates of hell.
Alfred laughed a full and hearty laugh before realizing he'd forgotten to put on depends.
"Oh no." He said sadly, walking a long and shameful walk back home, despite the fact he had a car to drive.
"Donde esta la nino?" Alfred asked a small puppy he'd come across along his walk of shame.
"Si! Yo tengo pastel in la bano!" The puppy barked.
"Jajaja! Tonto perro, Trix are for kids!" He laughed before shooting the puppy to pieces in front of a small child that owned him.
"Why'd you shoot my dog, mister?" The kid asked, horrified.
"Because you touch yourself at night, you sick bastard!" Alfred shrieked, joining his monkey brethren and swinging back to Wayne manor.
"It's good to be me. Alfred. I wish I had a last name." He sobbed wildly, realizing the hi-light of his chapter was over.
So he baked a pie.
He baked it good.
And he made Bruce eggs for breakfast.
Eggs and pie.
The breakfast of kings.
He then entered a long and sad crack cocaine addiction and died of overdose.
But then was revived because I need him in this story.
Despite the fact all he ever contributes to anything in any of these damned fanficitons is saying "Master Wayne" I mean, damn. He makes Bruce sound like some creepy male dominatrix.
Oh, Master Wayne.
You devil you.
If you haven't pressed the back button by now you're an utter and complete moron.
Alfred lived on in the hearts and minds of every small child as a hero that could only be compared to Superman.
Or Spider-man.
Or some other lame hero.
Like the Green Lantern.
Hahaha.
Silly man.
--
Don't ask.
Because I aim to dissapoint everyone.