True To You And True To Your Heart

Some clarifications:

1. No, I haven’t been fired. I was “talked to”, but I don’t really remember what happened. I’ve been scheduled for work again in two days, and I’m actually afraid to go.

2. I don’t have any information on the blog that popped up claiming to be in a similar situation to mine. I’ve read through a bit, and I believe it to be fake. Don’t follow it. I’m actually pissed off someone is using this for a story instead of taking it seriously. People’s lives are risk.

3. Several comments were posted by this account that were not by me. Some very unfortunate things were said and I do not endorse them. The comments have been deleted and I changed my password to one more secure. It’s embarrassing, but yes I used my work password for the password to this account. I believe someone from my job accessed my account in order to make those posts. They’re irrelevant and I would really appreciate it if there was no more discussion concerning them in this thread. I’ve spoken to the mods and they’ve said they’ll ban anyone sharing those posts, so this isn’t just me as OP bitching, it’s the word of god.

That being said, it has been some time since I’ve last updated. I wasn’t in danger, but I was taking some mental health time since I’ve been very unstable after last month’s incident. The ongoing drama concerning my presence on this forum is no help, and I wish I wasn’t so fragile as to be hurt so much by it as to impede my investigation into my employer. I do believe my employer is starting a counter-operation against me, but is unable to fire me as of yet.

The nature of “firing” is beginning to intrigue me as it is becoming increasingly clear that my employers have no control over the process of “firing”. More often than not, bad employees such as my self are relocated to lower positions within the company. I believe that was the purpose of my “talking to” and sudden change in schedule. I’m unsettled by this all, to be honest. I wish I was fired, since that would mean I wouldn’t have to worry about this situation again, but my employer clearly has no such intention of doing so, even though firing me would definitely remove the negative spotlight that has been put on them due to my blogging. But, I’m beginning to believe my employer simply is sadistic and malignant in a way that is childish - terrifyingly childish.

In the last few weeks, my life has been like a fever dream. I often have no clue what’s going on at any moment anymore, and even now it is taking a considerable amount of concentration in order for me to simply write this post. What I can always remember clearly are those times of open aggression from my employers. In such a case, I realized I had wandered outdoors in order to retrieve my mail - my apartment complex chooses to have a communal mailbox located some distance from the apartment complex in which I live. I was terrified as the outdoors are a threat to me now, considering that thing has free reign to travel through it in any way it pleases since my employer now owns much of the land surrounding my apartment complex. It was also incredibly dark, but I strained my eyes through the darkness and was able to discern that the piece of mail I gripped in my hand was a check.

It was $0,000.00, reflecting the fact that I haven’t worked in weeks. There is no reason they would have wasted valuable paper on a useless check unless they simply wanted to taunt me. Or maybe they wanted to lure me out of my apartment? Whatever the case, I can’t remember what train of thought made me think it was a good idea to check my mail. I was possibly not thinking at all. But, that night that thing was definitely out there. I saw it at a distance, standing in a position so odd as to be stupid. It was like looking at an ugly painting and it made me itch all over. I’m so fucking glad it didn’t come closer. I feel sick typing this right now. 

Flesh Mass: *wakes up on a beautiful lakeside*

Co-Host: *bathes, nude in the lake*

Flesh Mass: Hello, fake Hel.

Co-Host: Hello, mass of flesh.

Flesh Mass: Are you here to tell me more cryptic bullshit?

Co-Host: In a way. You read me well.

Flesh Mass: Hel used to tell me cryptic bullshit all the time. But, like, not me... uh, the real m-

Co-Host: Like the real you?

Flesh Mass: Yeah, I mean obviously that's what I was going to say.

Co-Host: But she's not the real you. This is.

Blob: *appears* Yo.

Flesh Mass: That thing is not me!

Co-Host: But it is. It's you in your most isolated form. Just a blob of flesh. No past, no future, just a blob of flesh that defines itself by mimicking others.

Flesh Mass: I'm not something that shitty.

Blob: Rude. I don't think I'm shitty. I just like transforming into things. Is that a big deal? I'm a blob of flesh, it's what I do.

Flesh Mass: I'm nothing like you!

*everything goes black*

*voice of the co-host echoes through the blackness*

Co-Host: But you are. It is you. It's still you. A blob is all your are. You have no identity, you precious thing. You'll always be nothing but an impostor.

Flesh Mass: *wakes up in a cold sweat*

Maid: Good morning, Ma'am.

Flesh Mass: *screams in surprise*

Maid: I apologize for startling Ma'am, Ma'am. Now, does Ma'am wish to follow me to the back yard. Master has festivities planned.

Flesh Mass: What "festivities"?

Maid: ...Festivities.

Flesh Mass: I'm getting nothing out of you, am I?

Maid: I'll be honest with, Ma'am. I don't know what nonsense Master has planned. We'll just have to find out when we go to the backyard.

Flesh Mass: You don't really like him do you?

Maid: ...No.

Flesh Mass: Then why are you still here? You have it in you to sabotage him, so why stick around?

Maid: May I ask Ma'am why she is still here?

Flesh Mass: *shrugs* I've literally got nothing better to do.

Maid: Then Ma'am and I have come to an understanding. Now follow me.

*they walk through the hallways of Java Mansion, the flesh mass see blobs in the mouths of every fursuit head*

Flesh Mass: ...I feel fucking sick.

Maid: What's the matter?

Flesh Mass: I think I was insulted while I was sleeping.

Maid: Hmm?

Flesh Mass: Hey, maid, why did you stop that rich freak from killing that lady?

Maid: I don't want to say much, but I am not a good person. I am atoning for some past sins, and working here is my self-imposed punishment. You must understand that I enjoy absolutely none of this. Master is not so clever, but if left to his own devices I believe he can do serious harm.

Flesh Mass: Then why don't you just KILL him.

Maid: It's part of my punishment to keep him alive.

Flesh Mass: You're an IDIOT.

Maid: I know I'm a foolish woman. It's why I now live this absurd life pretending to be a maid for that pathetic man.

Flesh Mass: It makes me SICK thinking of how dumb you are.

Maid: Then think on it no longer. We mus-

Flesh Mass: *chokes the maid*

Maid: *struggles but cannot escape the flesh mass's supernaturally strong grip*

Maid: *goes limp*

Flesh Mass: Wow.... I didn't know I was that strong.

*outside*

Me: Backyard!? You call this a backyard!? This is an entire forest! Holy heck you have to be stacked! Loaded! Like the richest guy in the county area!!

Java Wolf: That was previously established. *cocks shotgun*

Me: *nervously looks at shotgun* So, what are we going to do out here?

Java Wolf: Have you ever heard of the Wolves of Zaroff?

Me: Is that an anime or something.

Java Wolf: ...Yes, I didn't expect you to partake?

Me: Partake in what?

Java Wolf: A-Anime.

Me: Yeah, I like anime a lot.

Java Wolf: H-Have you ever t-t-thought of becoming a... m-m-maid?

Me: No.

Java Wolf: Then forget that I ever asked.

Me: ...yeah. *backs away from java wolf*

Java Wolf: Ah, there goes our other participant.

Flesh Mass: Yo!

Java Wolf: Where is the maid?

Flesh Mass: Cleaning... fursuits.

Java Wolf: She does like to clean my fursuits. Anyway, have either you heard of the Wolves of Zaroff?

Me: I already said yes.

Flesh Mass: Isn't that some stupid anime.

Java Wolf: It's not stupid. It's pivotal to what is going to happen. The great expanse that is my backyard is your hiding place. I'm going to give you two an hour to get situated. Afterwords, I'll hunt you.

Me: What!?

Flesh Mass: Not doing that!

Java Wolf: *points shotgun at flesh mass* You don't have a choice.

Flesh Mass: You know damn well that doesn't scare me.

Java Wolf: You're right. *points gun at... ME!!*

Me: NO! NO! NO!

Java Wolf: But she doesn't.

Flesh Mass: *steps in front of the shotgun* What makes you think you have the right to go around telling everyone what to do.

Java Wolf: Many things, mostly that I have a gun and you're still flesh even if you're particularly regenerative flesh. Furthermore, I-

Flesh Mass: *punches java wolf in the chest* I'm going to kill you, furry fuck!

Java Wolf: *stumbles to the ground, accidentally firing shotgun*

*shotgun flies from java wolf's hands*

Me: *runs away*

Flesh Mass: *runs towards shotgun*

Java Wolf: *regains some composure*

Flesh Mass: *reaches for shotgun but takes a gunshot through the head, falling over dead*

Java Wolf: *clutches chest* Did she think I wasn't prepared for this sort of thing. But she did some real damage to my chest. I think she broke a rib.

Flesh Mass: *jerks slightly*

Java Wolf: No you don't! *empties gun into flesh mass* That should keep you down for a bit longer. *stands up and leans on the wall in extreme pain* Fuck! It's worse than I thought. *coughs up blood*

Flesh Mass: *shakily reaches for the shotgun*

Java Wolf: *falls back to the ground* W-What did she do to me... It's like she nearly punched through me.

Flesh Mass: *taps shotgun on java wolf's fursuit's head*

Java Wolf: ...

Flesh Mass: *bullet wounds moan in pain* I hate to fucking admit this, but I think your fursuit's head is really cool.

Java Wolf: ...

Flesh Mass: What's the matter? Actually, I don't care. *shoots java wolf in the chest, removes the fursuit's head and puts it on* This thing smells like a rotten Starbucks.

Me: *runs from hiding spot* Holy shit! You killed that rich maniac! And you took like twenty bullets and you're still walking! You're a superhero! You saved my life! I owe you so much!

Flesh Mass: Yeah, whatever. *points gun at... ME!!??*

Me: Whoa! What are you doing!?

Flesh Mass: I'm giving you a headstart. Hide somwehere in that huge ass backyard. I'm going to hunt you down.

Me: You can't be serious! Why!?

Flesh Mass: Cuz I feel like it. Now hide before I kill you right here!

Me: *runs into the woods*

Grandson: Frick yes, my gran sent me a package! I love my gran so much she always sends me cool stuff that I want!

Friend: That's awesome. I love grandmas. My grandma just died and I miss her a lot...

Grandson: Whatever, let's see what my gran sent me. *tears open the package* Oh my god, it's a... Mimtembo Swatch. Swatch?

Friend: What the heck is a swatch?

Grandson: *reads the swatch box* Mimtembo Swatch! New technology manufacture in city of... Grognar, Minnesota? *stops reading* Is that a real name of a city?

Friend: *shrugs*

Grandson: *continues reading* Minnesotan Mimtembo Swatch includes 19,503 original built in video game exclusive to console. Game include: Minnesota Joe 1, Minnesota Joe 2, Minnesota Joe 3, Minnesota Joe 4, Minnesota Joe 5, and more. Also included: Special detachable swatch device. Use device with caution. *stops reading and gets teary eyed* I wanted a Nintendo Switch...

Friend: That sucks, but please don't cry. You'll get through it. It was tough for me getting over my grandama's recent death, but with friends you can get-

Grandson: Do you think I care about your problems right now!? Can't you see I'm frickin' going through something!?

Friend: S-Sorry!

Grandson: You better be. Now we might as well play this piece of garbage.

*console is set up*

Grandson: *awkwardly holding impossibly shaped swatch controller in hand* I have no clue how to turn this piece junk on. Read the manual for me!

Friend: Gotcha. *thumbs through manual*

Grandson: Find anything yet?

Friend: No, this manual is useless.

Grandson: What do you mean it's useless!? Can you not frickin' read!?

Friend: It mostly just talks about types of nails.

Grandson: What? Give me that thing. *snatches* This is just a manual on nails. They packaged the wrong frickin' guidebook! Gran really frick'd up this time! God, I hate her!

Friend: Don't say that about your grandma! My grandma JUST died! You never know when you'll lose her. I know you're upset, but I'm sure your grandma just made a mistake and loves y-

Grandson: Oh, here comes my dearest "friend" with the shame train again! Don't you know some people get angry at their frickface grans to cope!?

Friend: S-Sorry, I didn't know I was being inconsiderate.

Grandson: That's just like you! You piece of crap! You're always inconsiderate! Some people have frickin' frickhole gran's who buy off brand garbage to deal with! So why don't you piss off already!?

Friend: *gasps* You swore!

Grandson: Yeah, shitface! Get the fuck out my goddamn house! *kicks friend out and spits in her general direction* Dick!

Friend: *moping and walking away* I'm such a bad person, grandma. I hope at least you can forgive me.

*back in grandson's room*

Grandson: What is this piece of shit even supposed to be? *tosses impossibly shaped controller at the console*

Console: *begins to vibrate violently and levitate*

Grandson: *falls to the ground and watches in shock* Holy fuck!

*impossibly shaped controller hovers in front of the console and unfurls into Minnesota Joe*

Grandson: Ohhhhhh my gooooooooood.

Minnesota Joe: I'm Minnesota Joe. Have you heard the tale of my life, son?

Grandson: No.

Minnesota Joe: Do you want to?

Grandson: No.

Minnesota Joe: Well gosh darn-it. I only had job tah do and looks I can't do it now... shucks.

Console: *vibrations grow more violent and it begins to whistle and smoke*

Grandson: It's getting so hot in here. What's wrong with that thing!?

Minnesota Joe: Looks like it's overheatin', son. You ain't supposed tah start the console up in anythin' over sub-zero temperatures. Ain't you read the manual?

Console: *shakes, whirs, and glows violently*

Grandson: What fucking manual!? There wasn't one! Whatever piece of human filth packaged your shitty console put in the wrong fucking manual!

Minnesota Joe: Now listen here, you little bush varmint, I know for a fact that my creator himself packaged me in that selfsame box yonder!

*mimtembo swatch box catches fire as room heats up*

Minnesota Joe: So don't you say a word about him, goshdarnit! He's the Almighty!

Grandson: Fuck the almighty! Fuck my shithead friend! Fuck gran! And, fuck you Minnesota Joe! You all ruined my night! My life is already stressful and it's like you teamed up to shit all over my night!

Minnesota Joe: Well, I-

Console: *ignites and incinerates house in a deadly explosion which sends debris flying for miles*

*elsewhere*

Friend: *walking home, teary eyed*

Shooting Star: *flies overhead*

Host: *awakens* Wha- where am I? Looks like some kind of cage.

Voice From the Dark: THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT IT IS.

Host: Hello, who's there and where the fuck am I?

Voice From the Dark: I DON'T KNOW MYSELF AND I PRIDE MYSELF ON KNOWING MANY THINGS. ALL I KNOW IS THAT WHOEVER HAS CAPTURED YOU HAS INTEREST IN MY KIND.

Host: Your kind? What are you?

Voice From the Dark: SOMETHING MUCH GREATER THAN YOU ARE, DISGUSTING HUMAN. I AM A GOD COMPARED TO YOU. BITE THE METAL BARS IN FRONT OF YOU AS HARD AS YOU CAN UNTIL YOU DAMAGE YOUR TEETH.

Host: Uh, no.

Voice From the Dark: DAMMIT. I KNEW THAT WOULD NOT WORK.

Host: What wouldn't work?

Voice From the Dark: YOU WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO COMPREHEND, HUMAN. KNOW THAT AT MY FULL POWER I WOULD HAVE TORN THE BARS WHICH KEEP ME AT BAY ASUNDER. AND YOU? WELL, YOU WOULD HAVE ALREADY PERISHED.

Host: But, you're not at your full power so it doesn't even matter.

Voice From the Dark: ...JUST KNOW THAT AT MY FULL POWER I WOULD-

Host: Dude, I don't care. I just want to get the fuck out of this gay cage so I can go back to... uhh, being homeless and hated by my friends!

Voice From the Dark: I AM HATED AND FEARED BY ALL.

Host: Not me, I don't know you.

Voice From the Dark: NOT YET, BUT ONCE YOU GET TO KNOW ME, YOU WILL REALIZE MY TRUE POWER. YOU WILL BOW BEFORE ME, NOT ONLY IN FEAR, BUT IN HATRED. HATRED SO PURE THAT YOUR INABILITY TO ACT ON THE VIOLENT IMPULSES I INSPIRE WILL DRIVE YOU ONLY TOWARDS DESPAIR.

Host: Hate is a strong word, dude. You're annoying, though.

Voice From the Dark: ANNOYANCE IS SIMPLY ONE OF THE LEAST POTENT EFFECTS OF MY IMMENSE POWER. THE ANNOYANCE YOU FEEL NOW IS SIMPLY PRECURSOR THE PURE DESPAIR, HATE, AND RAGE YOU WOULD FEEL IF I WAS AT MY FULL POWER.

Host: I bet you're already at your full power.

Voice From the Dark: I AM NOT, THE WENCH THAT ENTRAPPED ME HAS SOME ABILITY TO SUPPRESS MY POWERS. JUST KNOW, THAT BEFORE I BECAME LOCKED IN THIS PRISON I HAD RUINED THE LIVES OF MANY PATHETIC HUMAN WORMS, AND EVEN THEN I WAS NOT AT MY FULL POWER. AT MY FULL POWER, I WAS LIKE A GOD. NO I WAS STRONGER THAN A GOD. I WAS A BEING OF PURE-

Host: *snoring*

*school bell rings*

You: *rush to the bus* I can't believe I got held up in my dumb math class. Now I'm late for my bus, but I know I can make it.

Bus: *starts driving off*

You: *wave your arms like crazy* Hold up!

Bus: *drives away*

You: What the fuck! There was no way he didn't see me. Shit! Fuck! Piss! Piss, fuck, and shit!

Old Lady: Hey! *points accusingly at you* Mind your manners in public, you hooligan.

You: Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. I wa-

Buff Guy: HEY, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING TO MY MEEMAW. *punches your lights out*

You: *wake up in front of the bus stop* Ugh, why did that asshole punch me? Shit, how long was I out? It's so late now.

*a bus pulls up*

You: *breathe a sigh of relief* Thank god!

*bus doors slowly open*

Bus Lady: *smiles silently at you*

You: Hello. *digs around pocket for bus pass* Sorry, I've had a crazy da-

Bus Lady: Last bus of the night.

You: Huh?

Bus Lady: Last bus of the night. You get a free ride.

You: Oh cool. *internally* I mean it's not like I had to pay anything in the first place.

Bus Lady: Oh, you paid your fare.

You: What?

Bus Lady: Why don't you take a seat. They're wonderful and they're all empty.

You: Haha, I guess they sure are. *under your breath* This is awkward.

Bus Lady: *starts driving* It's going to be a long night. You know what the moon's up to tonight, right?

You: Not really. All I worried about today was math, and then I got punched in the face.

Bus Lady: It's a Reverse Super Ultra Baby Moon Mega Semi-Tidal Ecplise.

You: A what?

Bus Lady: It means the moon's real big. Take a look.

You: *glance out the window* Whoa the moon is really big.

Bus Lady: Yup, the moon is so big. Up in the sky. Really big and gay in the sky. And when I say gay, I mean that the moon is literally homosexual. She's up there in the sky, so big and gay with her 50,000,000 moon girlfriends.

You: *wipe blood from your nose* Word.

Bus Lady: Looks like this is your stop.

You: We're in a tunnel. This isn't my stop. There's nothing even here!

Bus Lady: It's the only stop of the night. There's a maintenance door a bit down the way from here. Go up the steps and you'll reach your destination.

You: *get off the bus* I swear, stupid stuff like this only happens to me.

*the bus drives off*

You: *walk down the hallway and reach the maintenance door, you open it to reveal a long set of stairs* Ugh, why does this always happen to me!? Why can't I have a day that isn't weird, or stressful, or ends with me getting punched in the face!? This is all math's fault. Now I have to walk up all these stupid steps. I can't wait to get back home to my bed and my laptop. Jesus.

*you reach the tops of the steps*

You: Of course, this stairway leads to a hatch in the ceiling and not something normal. *you climb through the hatch and enter an empty convenience store* What the hell? Is anyone here? ...Guess not.

Boy: Gosh, here comes my date. I hope this restaurant I picked out is good enough.

Girl: Hey, Nathan?

Boy: Alexa?

Girl: That's me.

Boy: I-It's so nice meeting you. *internally* Gosh, she's even prettier in real life.

Girl: Nice meeting you too.

Boy: Can I say that y-you look... really pretty.

Girl: Oh, do I? Hehe. I'm glad. I just came from the morgue.

Boy: You work at a morgue?

Girl: No.

Boy: Oh, then what were you doing there?

Girl: *falls over*

Boy: Shit! Are you okay!? *checks girls pulse* She's... dead.

Passerby: Is that girl dead?

Boy: ...No, she's my date.

Passerby: Really, she looks pretty dead lying on the ground there.

Boy: That's just what she likes to do.

Passerby: Lie there on the ground... dead?

Boy: Yes.

Passerby: *shrugs* Free country I guess. See you 'round, dude.

Boy: *wipes sweat from forehead* That was a close call. Nobody can know that the first girl I ever dated died before we even got to like do anything. *clenches fists* I refuse to let this night go to waste. *lifts up girl's body and drags it into the restaurant*

Waiter: Welcome to the Super Fancy Restaurant. Do you have a rese- OH MY GOD, THAT'S A DEAD BODY! YOU CAN'T DRAG A DEAD BODY IN HERE!

Boy: She's not dead. She's my date.

Waiter: Dude, she's either dead or knocked the fuck out. I'm calling the police.

Boy: *drops body and pulls out gun* NO! I refuse to let this night go to waste. I'm going to have a nice dinner with my date, and nobody is going to fuck it up.

*people start panicking*

Boy: *fires shot into the air* Everyone, shut the hell up. Why doesn't anyone realize how normal the entire situation we're in is right now. I'm just trying to have a nice night out with a cute girl. In other countries people don't even have the luxury of going to restaurants so why doesn't everyone calm the fuck down and enjoy the relative stability awarded to them for living in a first world capitalist country. Now, I'd we'd like to be seated please.

Waiter: *sweating* Please follow me sir.

Boy: *sets up his date's body in her seat and then takes his* This night is going to be so romantic, I can already tell.

Girl: ... *cockroach crawls from her mouth*

Boy: *tapes gun on table* Hey, waiter. Can you take our orders please.

Waiter: Y-yes! What can I get you two tonight... *sweats nervously*

Boy: Hmm, I think I'll mixed vegetables. How about you, Alexa?

Girl: *cockroaches continues crawling from her mouth at an increased rate* Nathan, I have something to admit to you. I am not actually a girl named Alexa, I am 32,000 separate cockroaches.

Boy: *places hand into a pile of cockroaches* Alexa, dear. Whether alive or dead. Whether human or 32,000 separate cockroaches, I'll love you no matter what.

Girl: That's nice... but, we just met.

Waiter: *cockroaches crawl up his clothes* That's not something you say first date, dude.

Girl: *all 32,000 separate cockroaches shake their heads*

Boy: I fucked up didn't I?

32,000 Cockroaches: Yes.

Famous Gal: *phone constantly getting notifications*

Friend: Whoa, who's firing up your inbox?

Famous Gal: Hmm?

Friend: Your phone is going off like crazy.

Famous Gal: Oh, those are just my twitter notifications. I don't even notice them anymore.

Friend: I didn't know you were on twitter.

Famous Gal: Yeah, I know. I have a bit of a presence there, but nothing big.

Friend: How many followers do you have?

Famous Gal: Uhm I think it was something like 45,839.

Friend: Wow, holy shit. I only have like 40. You're famous.

Famous Gal: Eh, I'm not really famous. *checks phone* Oh, that's actually 47,328 now. I guess that post I made is making some minor rounds. *sparkle eyes*

Friend: ...So how do you even get that many followers?

Famous Gal: You just have to post the right things. Like, look at this.

Friend: Whoa, that post has so many notes!

Famous Gal: Yeah because it's so weird. You have to find weird things and screenshot them, like one time I found this dude who had a fetish for women sharpening butcher knives but he was also an open fascist so I screenshotted the shit out of him. People tore him to shreds and I got so many followers! Oh, and then once I found this Britney Spears twitter bot that only tweets "help me", but it got deactivated. Oh, then someone tried to roleplay with me as Twilight Sparkle in my DMs.

Friend: You're verified too! You're totally famous! Stop bullshitting!

Famous Gal: Of course I'm verified. I work in broadcasting, you doof.

Friend: Don't you just switch out advertisement tapes at the cable company?

Famous Gal: Listen, the fine details really don't matter. All I'm saying is it's not that big of a deal. Yes, I'm twitter verified and have tons of followers and fans and am also in a group chat with Eric Andre, Rebecca Sugar, Anthony Fantano, the guy who wrote Homestuck, everyone from Chapo Trap House, some irritating Vice journalist that people just sort of tolerate, and that Omocat chick, but that's all incredibly normal.

Friend: Well, is this normal too? *snatches famous gal's phone and tosses it somewhere far*

Famous Gal: What the fuck! Why did you do it.

Friend: I'm sorry, it's normal. Reflexes, y'know.

Famous Gal: You're acting like a bitch.

Friend: God, it's no big deal. It's just a phone, why don't you ask the commies on Chapo Trap House to redistribute a new one for you?

Famous Gal: That doesn't even make sense.

Friend: Neither does 47k followers for a nerd who works at a cable company. *storms off*

Famous Gal: I can't believe her! She threw my phone somewhere into that cavernous looking system of shady alleyways. I can't picture myself actually exploring such a place just for a phone.

Scarfed Individual: *abruptly steps into view* No need to do so.

Famous Gal: Eep!

Scarfed Individual: Sorry for startling you. I've procured your phone. *presents phone*

Famous Gal: *takes phone back* Thank you.

Scarfed Individual: No need to thank me, I'm a fan.

Famous Gal: What? Really?

Scarfed Individual: Yes, I've been a fan of your tweets for quite a while and was pleasantly surprised when I noticed the phone that had hit my head belonged to you. I knew you were in the area. I never thought I'd get to meet you face to face, however.

Famous Gal: Hahaha... I don't remember ever posting anything about the area where I live.

Scarfed Individual: I know, that made it more difficult for me to relocate my town of residence to your own. It was even more difficult finding EXACTLY WHERE YOU LIVED. Good thing I found your phone, right. *wink* I guess all is in order now. I'll see you tonight. *abruptly walks out of view*

*that night*

Friend: *sleeping soundly*

*loud banging at front door*

Friend: Ah fuck. *grouchily gets up and answers the front door* I don't deal anymore, ask Mark. He lives across the street.

Famous Gal: *rushes into apartment* Help me!

Friend: Don't just run into my fucking house!

Famous Gal: I'm being stalked!

Friend: Unsurprising.

Famous Gal: This is your fault!

Friend: I think it's your fault for having thousands of followers on a public website.

Famous Gal: When you tossed my phone, some nutso fan of mine found it and now he knows where I lives.

Friend: Ah, sounds bad, sorry.

Famous Gal: That's all you have to say!?

Friend: I can't help the fact that you're being stalked, but alright. I was a bit of a grouch today, so I'll let you spend the night.

Famous Gal: *hugs friend* Thank you. You're a terrible friend, but in this moment I'd consider you barely tolerable.

Friend: Thanks, even though every single world you say to me further stretches the already strung out patience I have for you.

Famous Gal: Whatever, I'm just going to take these sheets and assume I'm allowed to sleep on your couch without actually asking permission because I honestly don't want to speak with you any longer and am slowly regretting my decision to spend the night here with you.

Friend: I feel the same. I'm too tired so I'll go over how much I've come to dislike you throughout the course of this single afternoon and nighttime conversation.

Famous Gal: Uh, yeah. Goodnight, I guess.

Friend: Whatever...

Famous Gal: *lies on the couch and wraps self in sheets* God, I'm even more tired than I thought but these sheets are so cold. *dozes off*

Scarfed Individual: *abruptly appears from behind couch* You can borrow my scarf, here you go. *wraps around sleeping famous gal like a bow*

Famous Gal: *in her sleep* Mmm your arms are so warm.

Individual: Indeed they are, my dear. I wish I could smooch you, my dear. Goodnight, my dear.

Famous Gal: *yawns* Night.

Individual: *his glowing eyes illuminate sleeping famous gal*

Famous Gal: Please turn off the lights.

Girl: My dad owns a garage.

Guy: So.

Girl: It's a big parking garage, like the really big ones you see downtown.

Guy: Shit, what's he need it for?

Girl: I don't know. It's not used for anything. It's just closed, as far as I know.

Guy: Okay, so are you going anywhere with this?

Girl: No.

Guy: Then why even bring it up?

*at the parking garage*

Amorphous Blob: *sleeping among trashcans in the garage*

You: *nudges amorphous blob awake*

Amorphous Blob: YAWN. GOODNESS, ONE MUST HAVE SLUMBERED BEYOND OUR TYPICAL CIRCADIAN REFRAINS. ONE YEARNS FOR THE ESSENCE OF SOMEONE SUCH AS OUR SELVES, PERHAPS ONES BLESSED WITH ABILITIES SUCH AS TO MAKE THEMSELVES MASTER SONAMBULES. AH, FANTASIES, IF ANY CURSED FUTURE COULD LEAD TO SUCH A THING THEN WE COULD AVOID SUCH VULGAR EMBARRASSMENTS UNBEFITTING OF ONE WITH THE TITLE OF PRINCE. *shivers* OH, MY ICHOR, IT QUIVERS. *peers over the edge parking garage at the street below* PERHAPS, ONE SUCH AS MYSELF?

*a vaguely humanoid conglomeration of magnetized kitchen knives walks along wearing a conspicuous hat and trenchcoat*

Amorphous Blob: AH, IT'S SIMPLY SOMETHING OF A LOWLY EXISTENCE. BUT ANOMALOUS ALL THE SAME, ONE SUPPOSES! *materializes a handkerchief and waves it overhead* LESSER ONE, LESSER ONE!

Knife Guy: *looks above*

Amorphous Blob: YOU HAVE NOTICED US, NO DOUBT NOW. DO NOT BE INTIMIDATED BY OUR DAINTY BEAUTY.

Knife Guy: ...

Amorphous Blob: IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE ONE HAS HELD SUCH A LONG CONVERSATION WITH ANY ONE ADJACENT TO OUR KIN. BE BLESSED, LESSER ONE, AS MOST ENCOUNTERS WE HAVE HAD WITH OUR KIN HAS ENDED IN DISASTER, LESSER ONE. WE DEVOURED THEM, LESSER ONE. AND WE ARE NO JESTER OF THE TONGUE. SUCH A THING IS UNBECOMING OF A PRINCE, AND ONE MUST ADMIT WITH SOME EMBARRASSMENT THAT WE ARE LAME OF POETIC WIT AND UNABLE TO WEAVE SUCH AN INTRICATE TALE. WITH THE CONVICTION OF A SAINT AND THE HONOR OF ONE'S PRINCELY TITLE UPON OUR BOSOM WE ASSURE YOU OF THE BRUTAL OBJECTIVITY OF MY... I-I MEAN OUR STATEMENTS.

Knife Guy: *slowly transforms into a normal looking street bench*

Amorphous Blob: GOODNESS, TO DISGRACE ONE'S PRESENCE WITH SUCH VULGAR GESTURES.

*girl and guy walk down the street*

Amorphous Blob: UGH, HUMANS. ONE'S LOVE IS THE ONLY MEMBER OF THEIR DREADFUL LINEAGE ONE CAN LONGER TOLERATE. HOW I YEARN FOR HE.

Girl: This is it.

Guy: It's creepy.

Girl: Yeah.

Guy: Why does your dad do nothing but buy creepy buildings.

Girl: Because he's creepy.

Guy: Your dad IS creepy...

Girl: ...

Guy: ...

Girl: *takes a seat* So, how long have we known each other now? Like a year?

Guy: Yeah, and.

Girl: I don't know. I'm trying to be more friendly with you.

Guy: Why, we're friendly enough.

Girl: I know you have some issue with me.

Guy: What if I do, why do you care?

Girl: Because I want people to like me.

Amorphous Blob: THIS IS BORING.

Guy: Well, if this is the type of shit you do to try to make people like you, it's no wonder nobody can stand you.

Girl: People like me.

Guy: They don't. I'm going to be honest because it's going to help you. You're a bitch. You're stuck up and condescending. You treat us all like shit and then expect us to baby you and we're getting tired of it.

Girl: Shut the fuck up. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Don't project your shitty life onto me.

Guy: Heh, you're really making me like you right now.

Girl: Fuck you! *lunges at the guy with a kitchen knife, stabbing him in the neck*

Guy: *pulls the knife from his neck* *gurgles*

Girl: Wha-what did I just do? I didn't have that knife. I swear. I never I had it. I-

Guy: *stabs the girl in the skull*

Girl: *dead*

Guy: *falls over dead*

Amorphous Blob: BOO. I SAW IT COMING. THERE WAS A BETTER ONE YOU WHERE KILLED THEM BY MAKING THEM DRIVES CARS MADE OUT OF KNIVES INTO EACH OTHER. IT WAS MOST CERTAINLY THE BETTER BAD END.

*the girl and the guy stand up and morph into knife guys*

Knife Guy: Hey fuck you.

Amorphous Blob: GASP!

Knife Girl: Yeah, fuck you.

Other Knife Guy: Racist bitch.

Amorphous Blob: RACIST? I-I MEAN ONE WOULD NEVER BE SUCH A THING. WE ARE A PRINCE! A BEING OF THE WORLD.

Knife Girl: Whatever. Let's get the fuck out of here.

Other, Knife Guy: I can't believe this shit, it's 2017.

Knife Guy: Yeah, what is this 1984 the book.

Other Knife Guy: How does 1984 even relate to this situation.

Knife Guy: I don't know, but fuck racism.

Knife Girl: Yeah, fuck racism.

Knife Guy: Fuck racism.

*they walk off*