#oz meme

yaoi moment

First one being an idea that came from you writing about pancamo and saying the head cannon of him shirtless cooking, so that made me think of a prompt of him accidentally becoming the next, or a form of "donut daddy" if you will, already a hysterical idea

The other and far more "cursed humor" prompt being either just Miguel and chico, or being the whole entire collective of OZ, of somebody getting a Bluetooth speaker, and an ENTIRE PLAYLIST of cupcakke remix songs/sound effects, and letting utter chaos reign with it by just playing it at the absolute best/worst times

Anyway those were just some hilarious prompts that I had buzzing in my brain, your an incredible writer and I cannot wait to see what you might do with this insane goofiness

Hey! Trying to get back into writing for this page more. Life has taken another left turn but I’m alright! I figure this is a good way to start my return to Oz-dom. These are VERY cursed but I’m so here for it! 😂 like tremendously. I’m going to do the Pancamo TikTok one first and while I’m at it, I’m gonna tag @mloo because Chucky is kinda their thing so I submit before the council… (the biggest brainrot I’ve ever had)

Chucky Pancamo, Don Zanghi, and Peter Schibetta in…

Pasta Papa

“Hey, everyone.” Chucky said with a smirk, running his thick fingers through his jet black hair. He smirked, flicking his eyes up and down seductively. “Your Uncle Chucky’s here to take care of you, baby. I’m gonna introduce you to the oiliest, most flavorful pesto of your life. First off, lots of people forget the integral ingredient in pesto… nuts… Don… Donny!”

Chucky slammed his hands on the counter, rolling his eyes. Don Zanghi snapped to attention and shrugged.

“What, Chuck? I’m filming!” He defended immediately. Chucky huffed at him.

“When I say nuts, you’re supposed to pan the camera down.” He gestured towards his crotch where, on the counter before them, there was a handful of pine nuts. Zanghi scrunched up his face.

“Dude, that’s gay.”

“It’s not for you, shithead, it’s for the millions of women watching and drooling over me.” Chucky said as if it were the simplest concept in the world. Don shook his head.

“Still fucking gay to stare at my paisan’s cock and balls.”

“Again, you don’t have to stare, just aim the fucking camera.”

“I have to look to see where I’m aiming.” Don reasoned, featuring with his hands to Peter Schibetta, who was rubbing his temples. Chucky was still fuming.

“You ruined a fucking great take.”

“Chucky, this dialogue…” Peter furrowed his brow. “It’s like a bad fucking porno.”

“Chicks eat this shit up.” Miffed an increasingly offended Chucky. Peter nodded as if to say ‘yeah okay’, and he reached for the script on the table.

“‘First’” he read aloud. “‘You have to get your mortar and pestle so you can grind the ingredients real hard’. Really, Chucky?”

“You do!” He argued back, face burning a little at the criticism of his writing.

“Madonn’, man, even the concept of paying the pizza guy with sex is better than whatever this is.” Peter tossed the script onto the counter. He didn’t know how he got roped into this.

“Ooh!” Don pointed at Chucky to get his attention. “You should do that one next.”

“My whole schtick is pasta! I’m the-“

“Please don’t say it.” Peter pleaded.

“-Pasta Papa.”

“Fuck.” Peter put his head in his hands, pulling on his curly hair.

“I think the Donut Daddy might sue.” Zanghi pointed out, ignoring the strange nature of their conversation. Chucky threw his arms up.

“He doesn’t own sex or food and certainly not the combination of the two.” He leaned on the counter, arm out to Peter in appeal. “Why the fuck can’t I cash in on that horny-and-hungry-lady market?”

“Even his stuff is cringy. The women are just so horned up they don’t notice.”

“The fuck is wrong with horny women? I like horny women, don’t you?” Chucky defended with a zeal. Don nodded.

“Yeah, man, let a bitch be horned up.” He cheered, fiddling with the camera and playing with the different filters. Peter couldn’t believe he owned the only two brain cells in the room.

“The… ugh…” he choked on the words. “Donut Daddy… Jesus… he’s making sweets. Baking. He works with creams and doughs and juices. Baking and cooking aren’t the same kind of sexy.”

“You should make a pizza.” Donny offered, and Peter clarified;

“Not what I meant.”

“I make pasta. Pasta’s sexy.”

Don and Peter shared a look.

“It is!”

“The Donut… goddamnit… the other guy sticks his face in and licks shit. How does that even work with pasta?” Peter said, more concerned with the do-ability of Chucky’s dream of sexy food content than the general insanity of the idea.

“Yeah, man, you should make like Alfredo or something and lick the cream.” Don suggested excitedly, figuring he’d solved the problem.

“There is no cream in real Alfredo.” Chucky responded, and Peter cried incredulously;

“That you have a problem with?!”

“My shit’s authentic. Always has been.” Said Chucky with great pride. He got an idea. “I can make puttanesca. Geddit? Puttan-esca.”

“Whore pasta.” Don Zanghi giggled. Chucky clapped and agreed.

“I can even lick the spoon real slow. Shit writes itself!”

“Chucky,” Peter spoke carefully and gently. “The ten likes you’re gonna get on this isn’t worth the dignity spent performing cunnilingus on kitchen tools.”

Chucky batted the air around him.

“Ah, what do you know about anything? My shit’s gonna be famous.”

“Best of luck, Chucky, but this is where I tap out.” Peter went to walk away when he saw something on the phone Zanghi was filming on. “Don?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re live.”

“Yup.” He replied, cheerfully. Chucky’s blood ran cold. Peter raised a brow.

“Do you know what TikTok Live is?”

“Yeah, it films constantly so you can edit all the footage together later.”

“…” Peter legitimately had no words. He looked back and forth between Donny, who had a blissfully vacant smile on his face and Chucky, who was giving the deadliest glare he’d ever mustered up.

Peter walked out of the room as all the pesto ingredients were being thrown at Zanghi, and a string of curses followed him out.