wow I was trying to be so fancy with the words in this one. YUCK


started: 7/6/2020

'Hello, Fakedon!'

'Hello, Mr Fakeman!'

'Whats up bitch!'

'Hello again, Dr Fakedon!'

'WOOF'

'Dr Fakeman.'

The herd closed in, bubbly with bright expressions and loud chatter, and the HEV suit let their hand fall back to their side. Out of panic, he backed himself up into the very real, very bulky chest of Benrey (he didn't feel Benrey breathing?), until he was boxed in on all sides, his eyes almost popping from his head, hands up in meek, shaky surrender. It took every ounce of self control he had to not point his arm at them like an idiot.

From left to right stood Dr Coomer, Bubby, the HEV suit, Darnold, Tommy, Sunkist, and the G-Man. Forzen remained where he sat, only giving a slight grunt of acknowledgement, focus trained on the blinking monitor. Well, at least it's not all of them, he'd tried to reason. The thought still didn't clam his hammering heart.

His head was a buzz of white noise, everyone talking over each other; to thank him, congratulate him, compliment him, insult him, question him. He caught none of their words, the edges of his vision veining black. Light and heavy headed, dizzy and alert, fight and run, scream and cry,

'Whoa friends, y'all might want to uh, back up a bit. Fake-y's gonna pass out again, which, like, ultra uncool.'

'Ooooh, we're-we're sorry, Mr Fakeman! We-we-we just wanted to, to say thank you for saving us!' Tommy's words were lost to him. The science team backed up three steps. The warmth never left their faces.

'Alright, bro.' Benrey's voice was soft in his ear, almost understanding in tone. 'Breathe, chicken-hat.' At the crab-mitt placed on his shoulder, he nodded, and gulped in a big breath, held it, then gushed it out. His body shook with violent trembles, little whimpers fluttering by his lips every now and then, hands dropped to ball into the fabric of Benrey's trousers - actual fabric. His clothes are made of actual fabric.

Why the fuck isn't Benrey breathing? Is he alive? Why is he not breathing? Oh my God, is he fucking dead? ... Why the Fuck isn't ANYONE ELSE FUCKING BREATHING

He made no effort to move from his perch, and Benrey didn't push him away. He was allowed to breathe, to recollect himself at his own pace. He wasn't sure how much time passed as he grounded himself little by little. It was only when he'd visibly deflated was when the others began to talk again, one by one this time, and finally, he began to process the words being spoken to him.

'I say Mr Fakeman, this world is quite something else! You have functioning sunlight, actual beakers to store potions in, grass, trees - I'm quite enthralled!' Darnold chirped, lightly clapping his crab-mitt hands together. Since when did he have beakers in the house? And was he going crazy, or did they all look less. Video game-y now?

'It sure is! I knew the world beyond our realm was extraordinary, but I didn't realise how big a scale the transformation could be! For example: examine!' Dr Coomer reached for his ridiculous tie, and instead of it being super glued to the front of his shirt, it was easily peeled off his front, where he waved it through the air. It was normal. To be expected. Yet to them, it was as if they'd found the true answer to life. 'We are gaining realism with every second we stay here, Fakedon! Soon we will be real, fleshed out, functioning members of society!'

'It is quite the, predicament, Dr Fakeman.' The G-Man rasped, the tips of his stitched crab-mitts touching. It would have been a funny sight, if he were a person. 'Quite the leap, from lines of code to things, more, solid, hmm?'

'This beats the fuck out of Black Mesa's shitty world! I can actually pick stuff up with my hands and not have it hover right in front of my face now! I am going to cause so many problems on purpose!' Bubby had determination scribbled across his face, hands balled to fists. 'And no! More! Prototypes! No more forcing me to remember my initial creation!'

'And no more clones!'

'No more aliens, Mr Fakeman!'

'No more fucking tubes! ... Hmm, I will miss the senseless violence, though.' Bubby added as an after thought, tapping his chin with his stitched together fingers. 'And. Ah. No more God Mode either, I suppose. ... Huh. Never mind! This world sucks! I want to go back!'

'Now dear Bubby, I'm sure the sceneries and experiences of this world will more than make up for the lack of chaos Black Mesa dished out! I, for one, am rather looking forward to exploring the contents of this new life!' At that, Bubby's disappointment grew into softness at the drop of a hat. 'And I'm sure destruction can be created through other means, such as pranks, and spray paint, and silly string, and glitter!'

'Skies fulla real stars, too.' Forzen muttered, which gained a chorus of agreements from everyone, and made Bubby seriously reconsider his previous statement.

'... Oh alright, I suppose this world doesn't suck that bad.'

'Oh thank you, Mr Fakeman! Now I can show everyone what the perfect dog looks like!' Tommy turned to Sunkist, who's bark was acidic in sound. 'Aren't we, Sunkist? We're-we're gonna show everyone who the perfect, most bestest dog in the whole wide world is, and that's you!' He stroked the neck of the j . peg, and Sunkist released a stream of pink to blue, the balls floating in the air before disappearing.

'Yeah, I guess this world's not all sucks.' Forzen spoke from his seat, attention still focused on the laptops screen. 'It's no Yownloader, but it'll do.'

'Yeah, man. Now we can like, actually do stuff when we want to n' shit.' Benrey added to the pile, lightly patting his shoulder. Has his hand been there this entire time? 'So uh, thanks for not being shit and getting us outta the. The junk pile.'

'Yes! Thank you, Fakedon!'

'You're not such a big bitch after all!'

'What a wonderful feeling, to experience a new world!'

'Thank you, Mr Fakemon!'

The HEV suit, through all of their praise, had remained still and silent. They didn't so much as twitch, their visor staying locked on his person throughout their speeches. The G-Man didn't add anything else to the conversation, and Forzen remained quiet. Once silence reigned on them, he took another deep breath, held it, then sighed it out. The grip on Benrey's trousers loosened to a slack hold, his legs no longer feeling like they'd crumple. He licked his lips and stood a bit straighter, addressing them all head on in a new found confidence. Benrey's hand remained on his shoulder.

'... So, uh.' He was surprised he still had his voice, even if it did wobble with emotions. 'Are. Are you guys gonna. ... Are you going to kill me?'

'What? Kill you? Whatever would we do that for?'

'Oh good heavens, no! I would just like to create potions and examine the Powerade(tm) here!'

'There's no reason to kill you, Fakedon! Just don't give us one and we'll be fine!'

'Told you we're not on scripts, bro. No one is anymore.' He nodded. Somehow, he believed them. He slumped over and rubbed at his temples, his other hand remaining at Benrey's thigh.

'Okay. ... Alright. ... Cool, uh, what. ... So what'er you guys gonna do now?'

'Fuck shit up!' Those words alone from an enthusiastic Bubby was almost enough to make him keel over and faint for a second time.