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Dream jolted awake, a gasp tearing from his throat as panic surged through him. Sweat trickled down his forehead, pooling at the nape of his neck. The darkness of the room he was in enveloped him like a suffocating shroud, thick and oppressive, swallowing any hint of familiarity. His heart thundered in his chest, a primal drum echoing in the silence that surrounded him. He couldn't move his hands.
Dream strained against the bindings that gripped his wrists, but the ropes were unforgiving, cutting into his skin with every desperate tug. “What is happening?” he croaked, his voice hoarse and raw. The fear clawed at his throat, threatening to choke him. “Help! Please, someone—anyone—help me!”
His voice echoed in the void, swallowed whole by the darkness. The only response was the…gaming chair he was sitting in spinning a bit.
“Fuck…” Dream whispered before yelling. “Fuck!”
“Yeah, can you shut up for like twenty seconds I have to think.” A young blond boy sat across from Dream, also tied up, sitting on a chair.
Dream glanced around the room, breathing heavily. “Um, what?” His voice cracked.
As Dream’s vision adjusted to the darkness he noticed the boy had bright blue eyes.
“My stove, man. I think I left it on at my house.” The kid’s head leaned back. “Fuck!”
“Who cares about your stove!?”
“The environment?” The blond squinted his eyes at Dream. “A fire can happen, man. Think of the birds.”
“Think of yourself—where the hell are we?!” Dream cried out.
The blond blinked. “Oh, I don't know.”
“Don’t you think we should be get knowing?”
“Jesus, I'm not fucking Bill Nye the Science Guy. How the hell am I meant to know?”
“Why would that smartass know the location we were put after getting- what? Kidnapped?” Dream clenched his fists as they were stuck behind his back. “Goddamnit. I was supposed to meet with a friend…”
The kid scoffed. “Okay, Hollywood.”
Dream glared at the kid. He noticed a red substance lathered on the other’s head. Blood. “You, uh, got something on your face there.”
The blond rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s my face, I think I’d know.”
“We are literally tied to gaming chairs, and you haven't made on comment about it. I’m not expecting much out of you.”
“It’s actually the GTRacing Gaming Chair. I got one in red.”
“These things got wheels…” Dream shifted in the chair, placing his feet flat against the ground. “Let’s start moving around.”
The blond sarcastically laughed, nodding his head. “Oh, no thank you.”
“What? You’re just gonna sit here?!”
“I’m still sore from the Fitness Gram Pacer test.” He whined, jolting slightly. “I’m not trying to be a fucking D1 athlete.”
“You’re being a D1 little piece of shit.” Dream hissed, scooting his gaming chair back to hear the wooden floor under them creaking.
“What the shit. Maybe dial it back immediately.”
“You need to dial it up!” Dream snapped. “Like an indefinite slope type of up. Like the Disney movie type of up.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. guy that is dressed like the booger from the Mucinex commercial.”
Dream inhaled deeply, his chair creaking. “You go to school?”
“Yeah, I didn't drop out like fucking Mr. Beast.” The kid raised a brow.
“What’s your name?”
“Thank you, next question.”
“Hey, I'm gonna leave this place, and since you’re so fat and can't even move your chair sitting down, I’ll need your name when I get on the phone with the police.”
“Well butter my backside and call me a biscuit. I’m not your fucking Fiona to save.”
Dream wanted to uppercut this kid. “What is your name? We’re speaking the same language and you can't figure it out!”
“My name is Optimus Prime.”
“I’m gonna crash out.”
“Not bad…for a bunch of recruits.”
“So, tell me, how do you find the courage to like yourself when nobody else does?” Dream batted his eyelashes like the girlboss he was.
“School shootings. And Xanax. A whole lot of Xanax.”
“Aren’t you too young to be doing drugs?”
“Aren’t you too old to be up in my DMs?”
“What’s your name.”
“God, why do you care so much? Acting like we’re about to do a Royal High roleplay. You are not Inquisitormaster.”
“I’m personally more of a DanTDM guy.”
“So, when do you think the KSI vs. DanTDM fight will happen?”
“Do I look like I can see into the fucking future?”
“You got any food?”
Dream glanced down at his green hoodie. “I think I have half of a Kind Bar, actually. Dark chocolate and sea salt.”
“I would rather eat bullets.”
“You’re gonna be consuming bullets in a second if we don't get out of here!”
The blond groaned. “All I wanted is Prime Hydration and you go and fuck that up. And now I'm stuck to this stupid ass chair. Sweet Mother Mary. Praise Morgan Freeman.”
“This is not Bruce Almighty, kid.”
"Kid? Bro, we're all just big kids pretending to be adults. Can we not throw shade when we’re all just trying to figure it out?”
Dream smiled, feeling himself go fucking nuts. “Can I get your name in this lifetime?”
The blond huffed, looking away as the blood slipping down his face got onto his white and red shirt. “Tommy.”
A second of silence passed.
Dream sucked in some air harshly. “Yikes…”
Tommy scoffed in offense. “Says the guy cosplaying Sour Bill from Wreck it Fucking Ralph!”
Dream groaned. “Oh, my nitrogen monoxide—”
Something slammed against the wall to Dream’s right. Tommy and he both screamed as they noticed shoved the door to the room open.
The person had long pink hair, some of it covering his face. Dream noticed a butcher knife in his hand.
The guy walked in. Tommy jolted back. “Goddamn is that the girl from the Exorcist?!”
Dream’s breath stuttered, staring at the guy, who paused. “Um, ma’am. Is the human decency in the room with us?”
The guy’s voice was deep. “I…I’m not a woman.”
“Damn, bro! I’d think your opps with Rapunzel with all that hair!” Tommy shifted, but only resulted in him spinning in the chair a bit.
The guy held his arms out. “Kid, you and that loser over there are literally the ones with blond hair here!”
“Okay, but I'm not trying to break any world records, like…”
Dream shrugged, nodding at the kidnapper. “Critical fail on smartness.”
The guy hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I kidnapped you both.”
Tommy blinked multiple times dramatically. “Okay? Skip the once upon a time sentence, where the fuck are we?”
Dream nodded, shrinking in on himself a bit. “I have pilates at five.”
“My name is Technoblade.” He dragged his finger down the blade of his knife. “And I don’t like government a whole lot.”
Tommy shook his head in confusion. “Am I reading a roleplay name right now?”
Dream nodded. “Yeah, why are you acting like you're about to throw a Hunger Games rebellion? Can we skip the yap session?”
Technoblade’s face fell impassive. “Oh, alright. I want to eat you both.”
Dream’s jaw dropped a bit. He shared a look with Tommy, who looked equally as terrified. The kid’s voice shook as he slowly looked back to the kidnapper.
“What in the silence of the lambs is going on over in that head of yours buddy?”
Dream also glanced at Technoblade. “What did we learn from Hansel and Gretel? You are not being a main character right now.”
Technoblade smiled soullessly. “Neat. Villains are much cooler.”
Tommy scoffed. “Whatever, dude. It’s not giving Scarlet Overkill. It’s giving Clayton from Tarzan.”
“Yeah, yuck.” Dream shuddered. “You’re the type to throw shade on the Pumpkin Spice Latte because you want to be unique.”
Technoblade stared back at the other. “That…that is an oddly specific scenario.”
“Why would you even eat people?” Dream asked. “I think I'd rather eat a cat’s fecal matter than put that on a plate I own.”
“What’s the big deal? People kill animals all the time. Ruthlessly. Grind them up in factories with less than a side glance. And now I'm the bad guy for not wanting to support overconsumption? Boo and burr baskets are overrated, man.”
Tommy spun around in the chair, doing fucking 360s like he was on an Xbox playing Skate 3. “What is this ‘like if you cried’ type shit going on here?”
Dream‘s eyes squinted as he tried to assess his surroundings. “Fuck, can we turn on a light in here? I can’t see.”
Technoblade glanced at Dream. “So?”
“So it’d be nice to see.” Dream shrugged his shoulders in a ‘no shit’ matter.
“It’d be nice if I could afford Gas too, but you don't see me whining.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes on the kidnapper. “Are you a brokie or something?”
Technoblade scoffed. “You expect me to buy organic meat from Sprouts? In this economy?”
“Seriously, you have to do something about the lights.” Dream clenched his fists.
Tommy nodded. “You gotta pay the electric bills, bro. This darkness is really bad for your eyesight.”
“Again, the economy is corrupt, man.” Technoblade shrugged.
Dream sighed. “Have you watched Homeward Bound?”
Tommy smiled. “Lock in, buddy. He probably only watches Tangled on repeat.”
Technoblade scoffed. “Personally, I'm more of a Breaking Bad kind of guy, but that’s not the point.” He cracked his neck with nothing but main character syndrome. “I’m hungry.”
Dream pushed against the ground, allowing the chair to roll back. “G-get away you pink asshole!”
Tommy suddenly gasped. “Aw, fuck!” He slammed his foot against the ground.
Dream froze. “What?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Technoblade raised a brow. “Bruh, I haven't even started to chop you up yet.”
“No, damnit! I forgot to do my Duolingo!”
“Ohh,” Dream and Technoblade said in unison.
Technoblade twirled his knife in his hand. “I just did mine before walking in here.”
The blond glanced at Technoblade. “Wait- what time is it?”
The pink-haired dudette glanced at the watch on his wrist, wincing. “Yikes, it just hit twelve.”
Tommy groaned, his head falling back against the chair. “Fucking hell, bro, I had an eighty-three-day streak.”
Dream shrugged. “You have to stay on top of it, man.” He wiggled his wrists, trying to loosen the ropes, and almost gasped as he felt them slip a bit. Dream kept doing the same motion. I’m not getting consumed today.
Technoblade walked more into the room, in the middle of Dream and Tommy. He glanced between the two. “Alright, who is gonna get eaten first?”
Dream raised a brow. “We get to choose?”
“Sure.” Their kidnapper shrugged.
Tommy jolted up. “He’s fatter than me!”
Dream gasped, feeling his heart race. “I’ll have you know I've been doing pilates consecutively for almost two years now!”
“You don't even need to fatten him up and shit. He’s like a bundle pack. Came over here like a whole Lunchables six pack.”
Dream grit his teeth. How dare this little wet rat? “Don’t you want to shut him up? Eating him would probably help turn down the yapping meters—”
“—He probably has Kool-Aid blood type! Very yummy in your tummy—”
“He already lost his Duolingo streak! Might as well put him out of his misery!”
Technoblade nodded. “Hm…good point. Alright, kid. Say hello to Brandon, Brandon say hello to kid.”
“Did you name your fucking knife? And my name is not ‘kid’ the fuck?”
“Alright, sweet death.” Technoblade walked closer to the teen with his knife.
“No, no, no!” Tommy screeched, squirming his his binds. “Is it big back o’clock already? You should be dieting!”
“You all will never understand the pain this world offers. How minuscule this will be be in the grand scheme of things.”
“Acting like you're part of an ‘I Survived’ episode…”
Technoblade sighed. “This is so lame.”
“You’re the one who named your knife ‘Brandon’!”
Technoblade hugged his butcher knife. “Don’t listen to him, Brandon, he doesn't mean it.” He then reached forward, grabbing onto Tommy’s forearm.
The kid glared at him. “Get your hands off me…before I break a finger.”
Technoblade raised a brow. “Why are you so pale? I feel like I can draw with a Sharpie all over you and it would be the perfect canvas.”
“You ligertally just said you're about to consume me.”
“Did you just pronounce something horrifically wrong, or is that not a word,” Technoblade said dryly.
“Doh ray me fa so la ti do—”
Dream sighed. “Can you hurry up and kill him or something? His voice is insufferable.”
Tommy gasped in shock. “Yeah? Well so is your face!”
Technoblade let go of Tommy, standing up straight. “Hey! No arguing in my dungeon of doom!”
Tommy nodded. “So, where in the contract did it say you get to tell me what to do?”
“It was in the fine print. Though, I don't expect you to have reading capabilities—”
“Bro, you have no taste in food! You probably eat candy corn willingly!”
“How else would I eat it? Unwillingly?”
Dream felt his heart beat faster. “You like candy corn? You are one disgusting fiend.”
“Begone, which!” Tommy shouted. “The power of Christ compels you!”
Technoblade rolled his eyes, stuffing his hand in his pocket. “I actually have some Milk Duds and Whoppers on me.” He grabbed the putrid candy and consumed it like he was part of the Donner party going to fucking Oregon.
Tommy made a face. “How long has it been since you ate? You damn near chugged that shit.”
The kidnapper looked almost offended. “Why else do you think I want to eat you guys?”
“Back off, Jeffery Dahmer.”
Technoblade shrugged. “That was simply a demonstration of what is about to occur for you losers.”
Dream grit his teeth. “That would be very horrific. 10/10 serial killer, about to end it all.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Zip it, lock it, put it in your pocket.”
“Bop it, twist it, pull it—”
Technoblade huffed. “Shut up already, oh my god.”
The rope slipped from Dream’s wrists like the weak-ass side character it was. The rope fell to the ground with a loud thud, prompting Technoblade to turn around.
Dream lunged out of the gaming chair, circling around it to create a barrier.
“Unfuck this fucker!” Tommy yelled, cheering Dream on.
Technoblade took a step forward, and Dream pointed a finger at him.
“Back off! I might not know karate, but I’ll definitely throw some serious insults!”
Technoblade’s eyes narrowed. “I think you've already done enough of that.”
Dream needed to stall. “Why do you have to be such a cannibal, man?”
“It’s just meat, I—”
"Honestly, you’re such a cannibal, I’m surprised you don’t have a Yelp page for your dinner parties. ‘1 star: too much human hair in the stew!’”
“Actually, human stew doesn't sound too bad.”
Tommy leaned back against his chair. “This is not what I wanted to see on my FYP today.”
Dream nodded. "Why does this feel like a TikTok challenge gone horribly wrong? Like, where’s the exit button?"
“This vibe is so off, it feels like we're in a low-budget horror movie, and I’m just waiting for the jump scare."
Technoblade groaned. “Bro, I just want to eat.”
Tommy scoffed. “Your outfit is not eating, I’ll give you that much. Your fashion sense and personality are both starving.”
“What’s to insult about my shirt?” Technoblade pulled on his shirt. “It’s just Lucas.”
“Why do you have a name for your clothing as well?!”
“Why do you ask?”
Dream groaned, dragging the chair in front of him as he slowly trudged to the side. “What even is this? It’s like if the movie The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and a fever dream had a baby, and it’s not cute."
Technoblade raised a brow. “It’s probably blond then.”
“Hey!” Tommy and Dream said in sync like the baddie choir they were.
Technoblade pointed his knife at Dream. “Sit back down, please.”
“Stay back! I do pilates!”
“I said sit back down.”
“Only if I can sit in my existential crisis!”
“What—”
“It is not suppertime!” Dream yelled before kicking the gaming chair in the back, sending it barreling toward the kidnapper, who didn't seem shocked or nervous at all.
Technoblade held a hand out, stopping the flying chair attack with it. Tommy pushed his foot against the ground, scooting back.
Technoblade then dashed for Dream, knife up.
“Wait!” Dream shrieked, stumbling back.
Technoblade stopped running.
“Uh…” Dream’s brows furrowed.
“You told me to wait.”
“Oh,” Dream gave a thumbs up. “Greenlight.”
Technoblade took a step forward.
“Red light.”
He paused.
Tommy gasped. “Squid Games? Have you guys seen Season 2?”
Dream then sprinted toward the door Technoblade had opened earlier.
“Hey, don't leave me here!” The kid screamed, struggling.
“You seemed very okay with that earlier!” Dream grabbed onto the doorknob, pulling it only to realize that pulling it wasn't pulling it open. So, he stopped pulling on it.
Dream glanced back at the kidnapper, who was just staring at him motionless.
“Well,” Technoblade said, “that was a whole lot of nothing. A nothing burger.”
Dream grit his teeth. “You locked the door?”
“What? Did you think I’d let my food escape?”
“Satan, you bastard!” Dream took a step away from the door, before slamming his foot against it, knocking the door open like the badass main character he was.
Technoblade gasped. “That is not allowed!” He ran forward.
“Get away from me!” Dream ran out of the door, down a long revolting hall with a bunch of mud and blood on the floor. “This is so disgusting! Clean your home, man! Pee-ew!”
“Not in this economy!” Technoblade yelled at him, right at his heels.
“Bro, you're so angry over everything just being three dollars more!”
“Then that gets multiplied by five divided by two!”
“What—?!”
“Leroooooy Jenkins!” Technoblade hollered before body-slamming Dream to the ground.
“Hey! Don't touch me without my consent!” Dream squirmed, but the kidnapper had the high ground.
“Ugh, you're so annoying.”
“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away.”
“Alright,” Technoblade raised Brandon. “Time for some comida.”
“No cultural appropriation allowed. Thank you.”
“So, are you a Democrat or a Republican?”
“Why do you care?!”
“Because this will determine if I will be guilty or not about your passing.”
“I don't think so, Buster Moon.” A voice yelled from down the hallway, behind Technoblade.
The kidnapper gasped, turning around to see Tommy, who was wielding a chair. “How do people keep escaping my dungeon of doom?!”
“You did not get your rope-tying badge in Boy Scouts!” Tommy laughed before slamming the gaming chair against Technoblade’s back, who rolled off Dream in a something kin to pain probably.
“Laugh my ass off! He got bodied!” Dream watched as Technoblade fell unconscious because of getting the shit smacked out of him.
Tommy helped Dream up. “This plot is worse than Kung Fu Panda 4, let’s go!”
“Hear me out on Tai Lung, though—”
“Nah, did you see Viper?”
“Bro, low key, Cash from Fox and the Hound 2—”
“We’re wasting time! We have to leave the threshold before Buffalo Bill wakes up!” Tommy yelled.
“Oh, jeez. You’re correct.” Dream grabbed Brandon from Technoblade’s grasp.
Dream and Tommy ran down the hallway, which led to a flight of stairs, going up. Without much choice, the two losers Irish step danced up those fuckers and ended up reaching another door, which Dream tackled like Conor McGregor.
Then, they were on a roof. Like, a flat ass roof in the middle of fucking nowhere but the Sahara Desert.
It was day. Tommy glanced around. “What—what the fuck?!”
Dream glanced at him. “What? What is it?”
“It’s not 12am! That fucker lied to me! My Duolingo isn’t ruined!”
Dream tsked. “What a sicko.”
Tommy continued to glance around before he snapped his fingers. “Oh, flapperjack! What now?!”
Dream noticed a whole-ass war helicopter laid perfectly for them on a helicopter pad. He turned to face the child.
“Do you know how to fly a helicopter?”
Tommy gave him a look. “Do I look like I can fly a helicopter?”
“Eh, you're right. You look like you can't even ride a bike.”
“What the fuck—”
“Well,” Dream placed his hands on his hips. “I can’t either.”
Tommy shuffled awkwardly. “So…?”
“Well, we can't break the law, so I guess we can try and jump off this building.”
“Bitch, I'm not gonna go from hitting someone with a gaming chair to not flying a helicopter.”
“You don't respect this government and its laws? For shame!”
“How can anyone respect this government?” Technoblade was at the doorway.
Tommy and Dream both screamed, jumping back.
“McDonald’s hashbrowns used to cost like seventy cents. Do you know how much it is now? Three dollars!”
“Bunch of goddamn fucking hippies!” Tommy cried out. “That’s mutiny!”
Dream nodded. “Absolutely blasphemous!”
“Bro, it takes two bites to consume a hashbrown!” Technoblade threw his hands up. He then narrowed his eyes on Dream. “And now… you’ve kidnapped Brandon.”
“Brandon actually told me he hates you.” Dream shrugged. “I’m just helping a sista out.”
Technoblade took a step forward. “What’s wrong with you guys? It’s like you don't want to die.”
“Watch out, Thanos,” Tommy raised a brow. “Mr. Tough Guy is coming in hot.”
“You probably offer people Roofies!” Dream took a step back.
“Maybe I’ll give it to you guys. Because we’re on a roof. Hah. Get it?”
Dream played Mr. Krab’s smallest violin solo from his Android. Tommy stared at him with shock.
“You’ve had a phone on you this entire time?!”
“Actually, yeah,” Dream said, glancing at the killer. “Why didn't you take it, you brainless specimen?”
“I thought it was a circuit board! Your phone looked like a whole Cybertruck!” Technoblade shook his head with disappointment. “You Android users always foil my plans…”
“Hey!” Dream screamed. “Looks like you've fallen victim to overconsumption! iPhones are overrated and get overheated like a toaster when you play Roblox! Camera and battery vitality is way better with Android, anyway.”
“Nice sales pitch, man.” Tommy patted Dream’s back. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Also, can you call the local authorities or something?”
“Local authorities in the Sahara Desert?”
“Call the unlocal authorities, then.”
“Don’t tell me what to fucking do.” Dream said as he proceeded to call the unlocal authorities.
“Hey!” Technoblade yelled, taking a step forward. “Both of you, go into my oven this instance to—”
“Um, excuse me?” Tommy folded his arms. “He is on the phone.” He shook his head. “So fucking disrespectful.”
Technoblade took a step back, glancing at Dream. “Oh, sorry, man. I didn't realize.”
Dream held a hand up, hearing the 911 operator ask about his location and emergency.
“Hey, yeah. So I don't know where we are, actually, hold on.” Dream lowered the phone, leaning in toward Technoblade. “Hey, where are we, again?” He whispered.
Tommy raised a brow. “Brudda, I literally just said—”
“The Sahara Desert,” Technoblade replied.
“Thanks. So, we’re in the Sahara Desert, and this guy has us hostage and wants to eat me and some preschooler or something. Can you come get us or are you busy? Oh, okay thank you.” Dream started to tee hee. “You hang up first. No, you hang up first. Okay, we’ll hang up at the same time. One, two, three.” He ended the call, lowering his phone.
“What did they say?” Tommy asked.
“They’re coming over, but they're pretty unlocal, so it may take a minute.”
“So sorry to interrupt, but may I resume?” Technoblade raised a brow.
Dream gave him a thumbs up. “Oh, yes. Sorry, we’re all good.”
“Perfect.” Technoblade then dashed forward, right for the two.
Dream gasped. “He’s coming right for us! What do we do?”
“Abandon ship!” Tommy screamed before hurling himself off the building’s roof.
Dream and Technoblade froze, staring at each other in horror. “Oh, sweet mother mary you just killed someone!”
Technoblade raised a brow. “Uh, I think he did most of the work.”
“I am humbled!” Dream grit his teeth. “So you wanna fight? Are we about to have a dispute?”
“Wanna try on my retinals?”
“What the fuck?”
“You were kinda right. I have fallen victim to overconsumption, so now I have so many Sephora products but no get-ready-with-me’s to take part in.”
“Oh, hot dog. Don't mind if I must.” Dream gave him a thumbs up, walking towards him to participate in the art of overconsumption.
“Wait,” Technoblade held his hand out. “You have to dap me up first.”
“Oh, bet?” Dream proceeded to dap him up, but Technoblade did not release his hand. Dream’s eyes widened as he tried to pull away. “What kind of witchcraft is this?!”
Technoblade clenched into Dream’s hand tighter. “You have been tricked. I could never take part in overconsumption and ruin this world’s already busted economy—caused by the government.”
Dream grit his teeth, his heart rate picking up. “Bro, I don't think the government is behind the grwms on YouTube shorts and TikTok! What do you want? You want Nutella?! I can get you Nutella!”
Technoblade’s eyes widened. “Wait, actually? Alright.” He let go of Dream, who was confused.
“You’re letting me go?”
“For Nutella? Heck yeah. I've never felt so loved.”
Dream took a step back. “Oh, alright. I can probably just order you a bottle in Amazon Prime.”
“Very predictable for an overconsumption supporter like yourself.”
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Dream said. “And I simply support Small Businesses. That’s not overconsumption.”
“I’m pretty sure Nutella isn't a Small Business.”
“The F word is entirely warranted in this instance.” Dream spat out.
“Don’t be smart with me. I can kill you right now if I want to.”
Dream sighed, lowering his iPhone. “Look, man. Do you want Nutella or not?”
Technoblade tsked, looking away. “Damnit. Hurry up.”
“Oh, alright.” Dream ordered the box of Nutella. “I ordered it to the White House.”
Technoblade’s eyes widened before he just looked sad. “Aw, why would you do that? I just said I hate the government and you're ordering it to politicians? What if the Republicans get their hands on it?”
“Oh snap. Sorry. You’re getting kind of heated over Nutella, though. Are you off your Celexa pills?”
“You're off Grammarly. Redownload it asap.”
“So, can I go…?”
“Ugh, whatever.” Technoblade then walked over to the helicopter, entered it, and turned it on before flying away, probably to the White House to retrieve his Nutella.
Dream gasped at seeing Tommy climb his way back onto the roof, huffing and puffing.
“What the hell? Why are you alive?!” Dream yelled.
Tommy raised a brow. “Uh, I faked my fucking death like that one bitch from the Maze Runner. Bella the Wolf type shit.”
“Oh, cool. But didn't you literally jump off the roof? Like, we’re one hundred and one steps in the air.”
Tommy shrugged. “I’m just Miguel O’Hara. Now, can we leave?”
“Well, I already called the unlocal police, so…”
“Yeah, but they're unlocal, and I'm not tryna wait that long.”
Dream raised a brow, pointing to the empty helicopter pad. “Well, buddy took the only means of transportation, so what do you expect?”
Tommy shrugged. “We can go back down the stairs.”
“Oh, you're so right.”
So, the two walked down the stairs, which took, like, seven different years because, what the flip, this shit was literally one hundred and one stories.
By the time they exited the building, the unlocal police arrived, and they were witerally swaved.
The end.