Authors' Note: We had decided on this 'true ending' halfway through the story, and we laughed so hard at the idea we had to write it.
Quiet sobs echoed throughout the park as the sun set over the horizon, no one left in the park except for one, lone man sitting on the park bench. His head was buried in his hands, his fingers grasping his short, black hair in grief.
He looked back up at the broken swing set, his eyes red and puffy, tears running down his cheeks. On the ground beneath the swing set, he could still see the wrapper, the wrapper of the one food product he never wanted to see again, not since the incident.
Butter.
Images flashed through his mind, all of them consisting on one certain corn-headed man. His best friend. Well, who used to be his best friend.
"Ishimaru! What's up bro?" He remembered him saying, what he would always say to greet him.
But not anymore.
Not since that day.
Ishimaru buried his head into his hands as his body racked with sobs, the lasts lights of day disappearing from the horizon. The park remained silent, except for the longing cries of a man who lost his best friend, and the crinkling of a butter wrapper being blown by the wind of that cold, dark night.
-The End-