#santa mark

Mark instantly felt bad about how he shouted at Sean, immediately apologizing for it. “Oh, uh, sorry. My Darkiplier is showing.” He tried to give an innocent smile to maybe lighten the mood a little. But he saw that Sean’s eyes were completely empty of emotion. Nothing showing at all. He closed the trunk of his car and moved over to the front of the car to ‘search’ for something. After a few moments, he heard the door of his house open and the footsteps of Sean walking into the house leaving no words behind. Mark didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until he relaxed and let out a long exhale of relief. “What the hell…” he thought, massaging his temples in thought. “Mark.” Ugh, Dark again. What was his deal lately? He was acting so suspicious and Sean’s encouraging words in the car were not helping clear his suspicion. Especially after how he acted when Mark yelled at him. He was just worried about his well being. He didn’t mean to shout at him. “Why’d you yell at him?” Mark asked out loud.

“It wasn’t me who shouted, it was you ya dipshit.” Dark growled. “I’ve just been sittin’ here, mindin’ my own business and you blame me for what just happened? Some friend you are…”

“We’re not friends. You’re just the jerk demon in my head that tells me to do things I don’t want to do, like what just happened.”

“Whatever…” Dark just stopped talking after that and Mark decided to finally go inside. He walked in and closed the door that Sean had left open, collapsing on the couch in the room on his right. He threw his head back and sighed, wondering what time it was. He looked at his watch which said it was around 8:00 and was strangely ridiculously tired. He got up again and walked up the stairs. In the guest room he could hear loud snores. “Jesus Christ Jack, how tired were you?” Mark asked himself, laughing softly. He opened the first door on the left in the same hallway as the guest bedroom and threw off all of his clothes except his boxers. He would have thrown himself into the bed if it weren’t so FUCKING cold! No, instead of that, he just calmly walked to the side of the bed and got underneath the sheets. For a while, he just stared at the ceiling, contemplating what else he and Sean would need for the “Rising From the Dead” skit they were going to do. “Let’s see… big hole, fake grave, face paint…” he listed off what they would need, which ended up putting him to sleep.

He woke up in the white box, again. He fell onto his back and let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. “MAAAAAAARK!!!!!” “AH!” Wilfred screaming his name caused Mark to sit upright. “YOU DO NOT MESS WITH MY BASTARD KITTIES! NO MATTER HOW BASTARD-Y THEY ARE!” Mark’s Santa persona was chasing Wilfred around the box. A couple minutes passed before Mark processed what was happening and stood up only to have to tackle Santa to the ground. “MARK GET THE FUCK OFFA ME!!! WILFRED STARTED KICKING MY BASTARD KITTIES! ONLY I CAN DO THAT!” Santa shouted, struggling under Mark’s hulk-like grip. “Who says yoouuu’ve got the RIGHT to kick theeem!? IIIIIII can kick them too, whether you LIKE IT…! Or. Naht.” Wilfred said sassily, crossing his arms dramatically and taking a pose. “Wilfred.” Mark said coldly. He just looked at him. “Go to your corner.” Wilfred suddenly looked hurt and raised his finger to say something. “Yooouuu can’t-” “Go.” Mark interrupted, receiving angry mumbles and a grumpy stomp over to a far corner where Wilfred sat down and stared at the wall. Tiny Box Tim, who had been sitting away from the action, hopped over to Wilfred and they had their own little moment in the corner. Mark got off of Santa who got up and stomped away as well over to two elves in the corner. “GET THE FUCK BACK TO WORK!” he yelled. The two elves jumped and sped off to their corner where there were a couple of workbenches where they made toys. Mark had seen some of them. They were pretty shitty.

“Mark…” Mark turned in the direction of the dark and menacing voice and saw that Dark was messing with a strange black substance in his fingers. Mark walked over. “What has been up with you lately? You seem a bit depressed.” Dark looked up to him and Mark shrugged. “You know! For a demon! You don’t seem to be having fun tormenting me from my mind.” There was a long silence apart from the happy laughs of Wilfred and Tim and the angry shouting of Santa. Mark finally opened his mouth to say something, but Dark beat him to the punch. “We should go see what’s going on in Jackaboy’s head.” he stated outright. “What?” Mark was extremely confused. “We should go see what Jack’s doing in his head right now. Like, see what he does to entertain himself at night.” Was Dark insane? Yeah, sure, he was a demon. He had the power to take himself and his host or whatever the hell Mark was to him to the head of another person. All demons could do that. But that doesn’t mean they should!

“Dark. No.” Dark looked up at Mark pleadingly like he was a dog begging for food. “Pleeeeaaaaassseee? I’m so FUCKING bored!” At Dark’s shouting, Santa, Wilfred, and Tim all looked over before mumbling softly to themselves about what was going on. Except for Santa, who just continued to shout at the elves. “No! Just because you’re able to do that doesn’t mean you should! We’re not infiltrating Jack’s mind and that’s final!” Mark felt like an angry father to Dark a lot of the time. Mark shouting at Dark and telling him not to do something while Dark just kept pushing to do something that Mark would never let him do under any circumstances.

Dark just started mumbling to himself and Mark decided to go spend some time with Wilfred and Tim while Santa was bitching about how bad the elves were at their jobs and that he should never have hired them. The trio sat in the background, laughing, as Santa chased them around while shouting nonsense. Dark just continued to sit in the corner. From time to time, Mark noticed that he would look over at them, but then go back to his inaudible mumbling. Finally, everything went dark(heheh. Pun not intended) and Mark woke up in his room. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before rubbing his hands together mischievously. Today was the day. He threw himself out of bed and greatly contemplated on whether or not he should wear pants. Was he going to be in the skit today? “Maaayyyybeee?” he said quietly to himself before saying “Fuck it” and putting the pants on. Better safe than sorry. And he didn’t want to risk accidentally showing his viewers his hairy-ass legs. That’d just be weird. He stepped out of his room to either go downstairs and see Sean or go into the guest room and wake him up. Probably scare him awake. That was always the funniest way.

Next

Previous