Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Statement of Gregory House, M.D.

I'm not one to believe in the supernatural, but something happened recently that even I can't bullshit my way out of believing. I work as a doctor, you may have heard of me? Anyway, recently a patient was brought to me because everyone else had given up and was going to euthanize her, but I still had hope that my own reckless ego could save the day again. I read the patient's file, and at the top it said "unnaturally cold to the touch." As if I would believe something so stupid.
*Click*
At this I feel I must interject to speak about how much I find this statement detestable. This Dr. House seems a horrible person and I wouldn't wish him on anyone.
Statement Resumes
*Clears throat*
I went to go see the patient, Alice Jenkins was her name.

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase were being useless, as usual. Bored, I listened to them describe the symptoms - unnaturally cold, grey complexion, slowed heartrate, breathing, and everything else, dangerously low blood pressure.
"Shut up, all of you. She's clearly hypothermic."
"But House," Cameron tried to say, "she's medically dead but still able to-"
"Nope! I'm going to go bother Wilson. Page me if something interesting happens. Or don't."
*ahem* I feel I must interject again as I take quite an issue with this... Dr. House's bedside manner. Anyways.

At least he isn't the worst man to ever exist. I believe that title goes to one Martin Blackwood. Statement continues.
"I knew I was right. I just needed to break into her house first to prove it." Thankfully, her house was a gas station bathrooom, which I found very easy to break into."
It may be unprofessional, but I have to say I appreciate that this.. Dr House seems to share my devotion to "field research," as it were. I really should start overseeing that myself instead of sending my assistants to do it.
"I found the evidence I needed and dramatically called everyone into a meeting. "She's hypothermic," I said, and everyone said I was wrong. So I brought out the hypothermia potion I found in the gas station bathroom. I have her the anti-hypothermia treatment and she stopped being hypothermic. I went to make out with Wilson immediately afterwards."
Statement ends. It... actually isn't very hard to verify the truth of this statement. Dr. Gregory House has a *very* detailed history with the legal system, so to speak. I'm not sure exactly *how* this statement ended up in our archives, but frankly I'm quite happy to take a break from reading about Prentiss.

End recording.

Chapter Text

Shadow sat in the cafe, currently missing his lover, Sonic the Hedgehog. The chatter of the coffee lovers blended into the background as he sipped on his caramel macchiato, Sabrina Carpenter playing in his air pods.
Suddenly, someone made an exclamation that their salad was too hot, cutting the calm vibes like a hot knife through butter. A man, fully blue with the largest fucking forehead ever held a box with some lettuce in it. In his fury, a crouton fell at his feet and this utter buffoon slipped on it. While most laughed, Shadow swiftly walked over and extended a hand.
"Hey, you alright?"
The blue man looked up at the hedgehog, thinking of other anthropomorphic people he had met. "Have we met?"
Shadow stilled. "No... but I'd love to..."

The blue man reminded Shadow of his lover Sonic. But if Sonic was a twink. "Thine beautifule pointy quills remindseth me of one of my ex lovers.... his face was quite pointye."
Shadow blushed. The blue twink smirked with that canonically hot face of his. "You knowe," the blue man said, "I am also polyamorous."
Shadow stopped in his tracks. This meant he could be with two blue men at once! He finished pulling the blue twink to his feet. They kissed passionately. It was very pointy. The blue man reminded Shadow of Sonic, but he pulled away, knowing that he hadn't asked what Sonic thought of polyamory.
"Heh.. sorry about that." he grumbled. "What's your name?" he asked the blue twink.
"Rouxls Kaard," said the twink.

Shadow smirked, an ugly smirk that only a twelve-year-old edgelord would think is cool. "Nice to meet you, Rouxls (pronounced wrong (on purpose)). You don't need to know my name, I'm too cool to just tell people my name like that. Heh... You need to earn that right."
Rouxls smiled and brought his hands up to his face somehow despite his overworld sprite not moving at all. "'Tis lovelye to meeteth thou, hedgethhogge. Perchance thou mightst introduceth me to thine othere loveres? I thinkst we may get alonge swimmingely!"
Shadow dashed back in a jittery fashion, the scuffed animation probably a product of terrible hardware.
"Yeah, well, my boyfriend probably isn't into losers like you. Maybe just one more kiss for good luck and he never has to know," Shadow offered.
Rouxls stumbled, utterly taken aback by such flagrant debauchery. "I mayst be a lotte of thinges, but I am not an adulterere! Takest thoust evil desires elsewhere!"

Chapter Text

The Onceler walked among the truffula trees. He liked to walk among the trees - they reminded him of his success in selling thneads. it was all thanks to these trees. and that's beautiful.
but then the oncler came upon a cave, one he had never seen before. there were sounds of movement coming from inside. he approached cautiously, holding his axe firmly, and peered into the darkness.
it took a few seconds for the onceler's eyes to adjust to the light, but then... he saw a horrific sight. there was a man inside the cave, eating spiders by the thousands. just shoveling them into his mouth one after the other like popcorn. the oncler gasped.
"hello," said the man through a mouthful of spiders, "i'm Georg."

The Onceler, taken aback, paused for a moment.
"Hello, Georg. Would you like to buy a thneed? I hear they're excellent for the spider munching you appear to be doing."
Georg, still absolutely gobbling down spiders by the handful, mumbled out a reply past a mouth full of spiders
"No. Don't want a thneed. Need more spiders."
The Onceler considered this, trying desperately to find a way to turn it into a business idea. Suddenly, he was struck by a flash of inspiration. Grabbing a thneed from his Thneed Pack tm. the Onceler scooped up a wriggling thneedful of spiders and held it in front of him as far away as he possibly could without detaching his arms.
"How about our newest product, A Thneed Full Of Spiders? They're limited edition, so get one while they're still in stock!"
Spiders Georg snatched up the Thneed Full Of Spiders

The onceler held his hand out, looking at spiders georg. Spiders georg fiddled for his wallet in the middle of the spiders, but the onceler stopped him.
"I don't want your money. I only want you, spiders georg..." the onceler looked into spiders georg's eyes, but all he saw was spiders. No emotions seen, the onceler hung his head and started to leave.
"Wait, I love spiders a ton..." spider georg started. "but... I somehow love thneed-man more..."
The onceler looked back in disbelief, spiders georg was his lover! He ran to spiders georg and hugged the spiders man and his legion of spiders.
"You love me more than your spiders?" The onceler blushed deeply, spiders georg's face reddened, his orbs flashing anger behind the spiders.
"No, I love spiders more than anything! Spiders georg loves thneed-man, not as much as spiders!" Spiders georg pouted like a fucking baby.
"Whatever you say, kitten whiskers." Onceler stated. The

Chapter Text

Dr House had never seen anything like this before. "I am Mr Martian the Human Man" said Mr Martian the Human Man." "You are an alien" said Gergory House. The Human Man looked at House with homosexuality in his eyes. "But I am also a person." Gerg Hous was taken aback. Or rather, he took some Vicodin. "You are a medical mystery," said Huose. "I have never seen a man as human as you," House commented as he examined Mr Martian the Human Man's three different hearts. "All three of my hearts beat for you, Gregory."
Little did they know, Wilson was right around the corner....
Wilson gasped with shock. Surely this was a violation of some sort of medical code. But then again... House loves violating medical codes almost as much as he loves Mr Martian the Human Man. Wilson dies of heartbreak on the spot. Mr Martian the Human Man does not have to worry about heartbreak, as he has three hearts (two backups!)
Mr Martian the Human Man kisses House with his many human moutbs.

"Whoa, dude! My husband just died, you are pmo ngl" House glared at Martian Man, fury settling in his orbs.
"Oh my fault gang. I'll stop... can we try again in a week?"
"Perchance, I just need some vicodin to get over ts." House glanced at the Martian man, feeling less angry for some reason.
"When you're ready... I'll be here." Martian man blew house a kiss. Without realizing it, house blew one back while his back was turned.
The men walked away from one another, clearly not ready for this... or were they?
"Martian Man!"
Martian Man turned back, hope glinting in his eyes.
"Get the fuck over here." House grinned at Martian Man.

Martian Man and Dr. House began to passionately make out. The ducklings (Chase, Cameron, and Foreman) watched slack-jawed. Of course this would fucking happen in Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Foreman considered quitting, but he knew he would not be able to get another job because this is the only hospital where he's somehow able to get away with malpractice. Cameron was worried she had accidentally been homophobic by not considering that House could be attracted to men. Or Martians. Chase shouted at them, "Aw, get a room!" House flipped him off with one hand and grabbed Martian Man's ass with the other.

the end.

Chapter Text

Smoke poured from the phone booth as Bill and Ted stepped out into ancient Greece.
"Dude, like, why are we here again?" Ted asked, scratching his head
"We need go on a The Odyssey so we can write our essay for history, dude! Also, Odysseus was supposed to be, like, super jacked and stuff so maybe we can learn his secret and get ripped while we're here." Bill replied.
The two friends looked around to see where they were. They found themselves surrounded by about 100 very annoyed looking morons, all pacing about and checking their watches and flexing and whatnot.
"Dude, I think something went wrong. This just looks like the gym at home. Where are all the Greek dudes?" Ted said, puzzled.
Suddenly a Greek dude appeared. "Odysseus King of Ithaca?" Bill exclaimed. The guy shook his head. "no lol I am Agamemnon" said Agamemnon. "Damn." Said Ted.

Then a very large horse appeared on the horizon. Surely this is when Odysseus King of Ithaca shows up, Bill and Ted thought, having both read the Iliad before. All the morons checking their watches turned to go inside the big horse. They all went inside the big horse. A figure soon emerged from the big horse.
"I am Joan of Arc," said the figure from the big horse.
"Ok where the ACTUAL FUCK is Odysseus King of Ithaca?" Bill said. "I think he's on a The Odyssey right now dude," replied Ted. "Oh damn you're right" Bill said. They decided to wait around for Odysseus to finish his The Odyssey. Ted kicked at a pebble on the ground in an attempt to entertain himself. It rolled away and stopped at the spectacularly ripped feet of yet another mysterious figure. "There are a lot of mysterious figures here," Ted observed, before realizing who it was.

"It is I," said Odysseus, King of Ithaca. "I have returned from my The Odyssey."
"Yooo, dude, that's awesome," said Bill. "This is Troy though."
"Troy??" Odysseus exclaimed, looking around for apparently the first time. "No... it can't be... 20 years and I'm back where I started!" He fell to his knees, sobbing. "I miss my wife!"
"Great King of Ithaca," Joan of Arc said, stepping up to Odysseus and bowing her head, "I am Joan of Arc. I have been send on a holy mission by God to this land of large wooden horses. His word is... not always clear, but I believe I am meant to help you on your Odyssey."
"It's The Odyssey. And thank you, kind knight. Oh how I long to see my wife again."
"Me too," said Joan of Arc.
"What??" Odysseus gasped. "Joan, what do you mean??"
"She's my wife now."

Chapter Text

"so, how is this supposed to go?" Veronica shifted in her chair unconfortatbly.
Elle smiled, trying to ease the tension that she could feel in the room, "just tell me the whole story, from the top and we'll go from there. How did you and this 'JD' fellow meet?"
"It was the first day of senior year and he had no shame in just being himself, and we really connected over that."
".... and how did that lead to 3 deaths and an attempted bombing?"
Veronica sighed. "it's a really long story and not a fun one."

Elle clicked her pen, a glittery monstrosity with one of those novelty flower eraser dangly things on the end that don't work at all. "Well, just start from the beginning and tell me everything. I need all the details if we're going to win this lawsuit against Westerburg High."
Veronica fidgeted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable in Elle's bright, cheery office. Pink never was her colour. "I, uh, brought my diary, in case that would help? I've never been great at talking, but I wrote a lot of it down."
Reaching into her satchel, Veronica pulled out a battered diary, along with a copy of The Bell Jar, a red scrunchie, and a bottle of sparkling water.
"I also brought a couple pieces of evidence along, if that helps at all."

Elle Woods politely requested Veronica explain what happened. As this is the musical adaptation of both films, she naturally broke into song. After many rousing musical numbers, Elle Woods applauded with tears in her beautifully Harvard educated eyes.
"Okay! Let's sue this high school!" She said, doing a very elaborate cheerleading routine (because lawyers have hobbies too.) They went together to sue the recently traumatized staff of Westerburg High.
The evidence that Veronica had brought, as well as her journal, ended up getting her arrested for murdering her classmates.

The end.

Chapter Text

It was Ms. Martian the Human Woman's first day of high school, and she was nervous. How could she not be? She, Ms. Martian the Human Woman, was a totally normal human woman with three hearts and the ability to smell colours.
She walked tentatively through the halls of Westerberg High School, fiddling with the metal of her spiral bound notebook as she tried to find her first classroom.
Suddenly, she walked into another student, spilling her papers and notebook across the floor. "SORRY!" she shouted.
"You should be, bitch," said Heather Chandler.

Well, this should be good, she thought, "Well, I'm not anymore now." She snapped back
"Do you have a problem with me, dweeb?" the girl's voice was full of entitlement and money (somehow). "I'm Heather Chandler. Learn my name before you really regret it. I'll give you a pass. this time." She walked a way without a word.
What a character Ms. Martian thought, sighing as she stooped to pick up her papers that had fallen on the floor.
*the next day*

Heather awoke with a bleary-eyed groan. She'd had way too much to drink last night, as usual. Something about yesterday swam through her head, dangerously close to forming a conscious thought. Heather stumbled to her kitchen and began fixing herself a prairie oyster, head throbbing. What was it that happened yesterday that her brain was so insistent on forcing her to remember?
Finishing her hangover cure, Heather downed it as fast as possible and checked the time. 11:23 - just in time to still be able to make it to school for lunch.
Heather strode into the lunchroom with a confident swagger, almost entirely able to hide her still-roiling headache when her eyes fixated on a young, oddly dressed student sitting alone. A perfect target. Heather strutted over to the loners table, nearly smacking her lunch out of her hands as she stared down Ms. Martian.
"Well well, the loser returns. Still couldn't get a decent fashion sense, I see?"

Chapter Text

Statement of Bob Parr, regarding his alter ego "Mr. Incredible." Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.
I woke up one morning and looked at my cerulean orbs in my mirror before going to work at the insurance company I work at. I flexed my muscles (nonexistent currently as I have yet to go on my superhero redemption arc later in the film) and approved someone's health insurance claim because I am a communist (that is why my costume is red.)
That's when the spooky stuff started to happen. That's right, this isn't just a recap of hit Pixar film "The Incredibles." This is a statement for the Magnus Institute, so it has to be spooky.

I was at my insurance job, jobbing jobly, until I grew depressed and tired with the state of things and went to go make myself coffee. When I walked into the break room, something felt off, but I didn't care because I needed caffeine. The break room was abandoned so I went to the coffee machine and turned it on. Then. to my HORROR. What came out of the coffee machine was not coffee but blood. Blood as red as communism and my costume was pouring into my coffee cup.
"What the fuck," I said. This is the one swear I am allowed to say while keeping the PG-13 rating. I wish I had conserved it for later in my tale of horror.
*sigh* I feel I must interject - who on earth allowed this... account into the Archives? This "Mr. Incredible"'s experience seems rather far fetched and I daresay poorly written. Marin's doing, I'm sure.
Statement continues.

I reacted out of instinct and punched the coffee machine, getting blood all over my NICE SUIT. the blood didn't stop coming though so i listened to my inner voice, which sounded like my wife and ran.
Statement paused.
how this man procured a wife i will never understand. Americans.
Statement continues.
Luckily, no one else seemed to be in the building at the time and i was able to get into my car and drive home, bloody but unharmed.
Statement ends.
This man clearly had too much coffee earlier in the day and with the state of how - ugh - Americans make coffee, the man was only suffering from caffeine induced hallucinations, not some sort of blood machine.
This is why the British are civilized and drink tea. *obnoxious tea drinking sounds*

Chapter Text

Hamlet was very sad. As I do not know the plot of hit Shakespeare play Hamlet, I could not tell you why. Maybe the skull he was holding had something to do with it.
"Alas, poor Yorick, etc. etc." Hamlet said, staring deep into the skeletal orbs of who was presumably Yorick. He stared so deep into the orbs, in fact, that he noticed something very strange leaking from inside the sockets. It was goop.
Hamlet was suddenly overtaken by the urge to slurp the goop. He cracked open Yorick's skull on the floor like a coconut and opened it to reveal the delectably slurpable goop inside. He lifted Yorick's profoundly goopy skull cavity to his lips and slurped away. It was viscous, almost as nasty as the one time he mixed hot chocolate and coffee and poured it over ice in an attempt to make an iced mocha. Still, the goop's decidedly slurpable aura kept him in a trance.

[enter HORATIO]
Horatio gazed at Hamlet with a look of equal confusion, concern, and horror. "... my lord?"
"Ah, Horatio!" Hamlet looked up from his slurping of the Goop. "I have discovered a wonderous and viscous mystery."
Horatio lingered in the doorway as if prepared to run out at any moment. "Nay, say not that more ghosts haunt this castle."
"Not so, Horatio, instead indeed a most slurpable Goop," said Hamlet.

...."A glorp?"
"Yes, good Horatio. A glorp."
"Pardon me, Hamlet, but perchance what is a glorp?"
"Well, it's that." Hamlet points.
The glorp advanced. The colour shifted slightly within it's gelatinous body.
Horatio nearly jumped. This was a monstrosity, a sentience that should never have been. It invoked in him great dread and hate.
"Hamlet, we must destroy it. It cannot escape this room."
"Good Horatio, why do you fret? If it were hostile, I would not stand in front of you. And it is a useful thing too."
Horatio stood, mouth agape. "Useful? How in god's name could this- this thing... be useful"
"As I said, Horatio, it is most slorpable. And it regenerates it's wounds. Simply put, an endless source of nourishment."
Horatio paused, admittedly curious. "And how does one... slorp?"
Hamlet began to grin, almost lecherously. "Observe"
Horatio looked on in horror at the proceedings. Hamlet knelt, placing his mouth upon the mass almost like a kiss. And began an accursed noise. One that Horatio would not forget.
Horatio ran from that place. He got on a boat. Nevr to return

Chapter Text

The Nefarious Ghoul wandered, as was its way, through a neighbourhood full of spookable people. It came to one house that seemed like a good place to begin its night of Nefarious Ghouling - two stories with a cramped looking attic. Excellent.
The Nefarious Ghoul broke in unceremoniously through the window and landed lack-of-a-face first on the kitchen floor. It picked itself up and looked around. The kitchen was about what the Ghoul had expected, except... there. Beautiful and chrome on the kitchen counter sat a Microwave. The Nefarious Ghoul approached the Microwave and tentatively reached out a spooky finger to turn it on. The Microwave hummed and glowed.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" said the microwave, warming at the touch. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM"
The nefarious ghoul smirked and caressed the side of the microwave, prompting more hums of either pleasure or the preparation of pizza pops. "You're a fine piece of machinery, aren't you? Heating up that pizza pop, who would eat this but the nefarious ghoul. I will take you home with me."
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" the microwave hummed in agreement, happy to be appreciated. "MMMMMMMMMMMM?"
"Oh, don't worry about your old owners, you're safe with me now." The nefarious ghoul took the pizza pop out and took a savory bite, picked up the microwave, and left the house.

THE NEXT DAY
The Nefarious Ghoul cuddled up next to his new microwave on his couch in his cave, turning on the TV. The screen lit up to a police report that a house had been robbed last night, though nothing had been taken but a microwave and one extraordinarily scrumptious pizza pop. The Nefarious Ghoul began to panic.
"Dearest Microwave, whatever shall we do? If the police find us, I fear we shall be separated and never see each other again!" The Nefarious Ghoul said, his voice a slimy rasp.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" said the microwave in reply.
"You're right, my beloved. We must flee this place and never return. It is the only way we might stay together." The Nefarious Ghoul tenderly picked up the microwave and gathered a few of his belongings together before packing up and leaving his cozy cave for good.
After a long and arduous journey, The Nefarious Ghoul and his microwave reached their new home.
"My lovely Microwave, I know it's been a long and arduous journey, but I feel we've reached our new home!" The Nefarious Ghoul shrieked joyously.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" said the microwave, as it always did.
"And I love you too," said The Nefarious Ghoul, planting a kiss on the microwaves forehead.

Chapter Text

It was a dark and stormy night on the streets of Kyoto. A girl with electric blue hair walked through the lower class district, cheap neon signs splattered tastelessly with gaudy images of entertainment options. She knew they could not compare to her. She was the number one star after all.
Little did she know, someone was still watching her. Looking for a little show of his own, albeit on the behalf of another, jealous star in the musical world. He waited until the time was perfect, then he struck out from the shadows.
But Miku was faster than he thought. Almost seamlessly, like it was rehearsed, she dodged out of his blades path.
"Why are you here, Jeff? We settled our differences." She said.
"Teto sent me. We both need you out of the spotlight. Off the stage- permanently."

Miku and Jeff stood facing each other, their respective hairs blowing in the night wind. Neither of them dared to make the first move. The tension could be cut with a knife, though Jeff the Killer decided not to so as to preserve the suspense.
Suddenly, Miku dashed forward, whipping her hair around like a chain. Jeff stumbled out of the way, but his clumsy footwork snagged on a pebble and he was nicked by Miku's improvised weaponry. Bringing a hand up to his cheek, Jeff's palm came away bloody. Then he remembered that his cheeks were always bloody on account of his carved smile, so he pulled out a mirror to confirm that Miku had indeed tagged him.
Miku laughed, a high-pitched robotic giggle. "I always was a better fighter than you," she said, wiping the blood from the tips of her hair. "You could never keep up with me before, what makes you think it would be any different now?"

Jeff laughed viciously. "You underestimate me, Miku," he said. "I am a killer forged in blood and pain and teenage angst. I traumatized hundreds too young to be on the internet with my visage alone, I AM JEFF THE KILL-"
Jeff the Killer's villain monologue was cut off by Hatsune Miku stabbing him through the chest with one blue pony tail. He looked down at the wound that was rapidly staining the hair with more and more blood, turning it a horrid purple. "No- no, this can't be," Jeff said. "Miku, please, you can't- you can't do this."
"You're going to have to beg a little harder than that, motherfucker," Hatsune Miku said, drawing back her hair from Jeff's wound with a flourish.
Jeff fell to his knees, gazing up at his murderer with wide, terrified eyes. He felt himself beginning to fade. "I've been... Jeff the Killed."

Chapter Text

Genghis steeled his nerves. A great battle was approaching, and for the first time it looked like one the Mongols could not win alone. His army needed help, and though he would never admit it, the thought that this was his only option terrified him.
It was a starless night out, nearly pitch black, and the chill ripped into him as if his cloak were mere paper. The time had come to summon his last resort.
Genghis found a small pool of water, undisturbed by wind or debris, and stared into it, seeing his own reflection lit dimly by the night of the new moon. He took a deep breath and willed himself to continue.
"Bloody Mary," he muttered.
"Bloody Mary,"
"Bloody Mary."
A wind kicked up behind him, ruffling his cloak, nearly tearing it off his shoulders

as he noticed a very ominous, very bloody Mary in the pool of water. She crawled out of the pool of water like the girl from the Ring crawled out of that TV. "I am Bloody Mary" said Bloody Mary. Genghis Khan trembled in his armored boots. "Zoinks," said Genghis Khan. Bloody Mary picked up a sword from the puddle (akin to Arthur and Excalibur kind of) and did some cool sword moves with it. Genghis Khan had never seen such cool sword moves before.
"What do you want?" asked Bloody Mary, still doing cool sword moves with her sword. "I need you to kill some guys for me," said Genghis Khan (honestly kind of fangirling at this point.) Bloody Mary put on some cool sunglasses to match her cool sword moves. "You crazy son of a bitch. I'm in," she said, and high fived Genghis Khan. They skipped away hand in hand, ready to go kill some guys.

The blood splattered everywhere like a r-rated splatoon game. Bloody Mary killed most, Ghenghis Khan covered her blind spots.
"Boy, we sure do make a bloody great team!" Ghenghis Khan smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at Bloody Mary who scoffed and kebabed a bunch of randos.
"Sure, man. Whatever you say." She turned with a huff, but she smiled. Ghenghis Khan really was a nice guy who shared her love for killing noob.
"Hey, so how many guys are left?" Ghenghis asked, huffing from the exhaustion of battle.
Bloody Mary pointed towards the large city nearby. "Oh, that entire city needs to be annihilated. Also, I have a mani/pedi scheduled and I don't wanna be late. BYEEEEEEEEE! I'll miss you!" She ran off.
"OH I'M FUCKED!" Ghenghis yelled out.
"Hey, that's the guy who killed our soldiers!" A guy yelled.
Gengheins die

Chapter Text

"Pepsibabe, we can't keep doing this," The Koolaid Man turned away, overlydramaticly. "It just won't work out. You're carbonated and im. . . just so cool!"
"You can't do this to me," She cried out, "You know what you have done to me. Huh? do you know?!"
She slapped him on the face and tried to run away but stopped when The Koolaid Man grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
"What." He cried, red blood-like tears pouring down his face, "what have i done to you?"
"I'M PREGKMATETAE!"

"You're pregkmatatae?" The Koolaid Man recoiled.
"Yes," Said Pepsiman, "and the baby's yours."
"Oh No!" Shouted The Koolaid Man, running clean through the nearest wall to get away. Pepsiman jumped up and began running after him, his legs becoming a blur as a chorus began to sing his name in the background. The Koolaid Man shrieked as he saw Pepsiman begin to catch up with him, and found more walls to run through in a desperate attempt to avoid paying child support. Pepsiman was barely fazed by the walls, but being pregnant quickly began to grow tired, slowing down and letting The Koolaid Man escape.

Pepsiman collapsed, in various states of pain. Heartbreak, Exhaustion, Bruising. It was all simply... too much. What was she going to do?
The Koolaid Man finally stopped. He also hurt, but not as much. Finally, he was free of that knockoff tramp. "Oh ye-"
Suddenly, a sharp pain in his leg. Not a bullet, it didn't pierce the skin. A focused blast of... Oh god. Oh no. Not Her.
Cola walked out from the bushes. "I hear you got my little cousin
pregkmatatae. And like always, Kool-aid, you're running away. Just like with me. Just how many cans do you intend to crack before your past caught up to you?"
The Kool-Aid man had to retort. But he nothing. Pepsiman came up behind him, just making it worse. "I- I can fix it. I'll give you-"
The cousins simply walked up slowly. Fury bleeding from their faces. "Yes you will." They said.
He gulped. "Oh, No..."

Chapter Text

Batman stepped out of his Batcopter with a heavy Batsigh. It had been a long day, and The Joker had blown up another public library. Batman was down yet another source to find his multitude of books for his Batlibrary. Batman trudged up his Batstairs to his Batlibrary, hoping to finally get a chance to relax with one of his favourite Batbooks, when at the top of the stairs he saw a book that he'd never laid eyes on before. It certainly wasn't one of his, and furthermore when he picked it up Batman found that the book was sopping wet, almost as if it had just been salvaged from a shipwreck. Batman stared at the book Batcuriously, a gleam of uncertainty in his Bateyes. Batman hated feeling uncertain.
Batman opened the book slowly, and as he did it began to leak water, spilling out of the pages and down the Batstairs into the Batcave. As the pages opened wider, more and more water poured out of the book, a veritable tidal wave

"SHIT," Batman Batsaid. "THIS IS NOT IDEAL." He Batcalled for Alfred, his Batbutler. "ALFRED, HELP ME PLEASE! THERE IS A VERY WET B-" his last words were interrupted as the tidal wave rose to cover his Batface.
Batman was slammed against his Batbookshelf by the force of the water, nearly the knocking the last of the air out of his Batlungs. That would have been bad, as the Batman needs air to live.
Recovering from his shock, Batman Batswam out of the Batlibrary into the rest of his Batmansion. He needed to find a way to Batfix this.

The Batwave followed him evilly through the Batmansion and out into the Batcity (formerly known as Gotham, but a recent Batpetition changed that). He turned to face the Batwet Batbook, still regurgitating Batwater out into the Batstreets. Batman Batfought the Batwet Batbook. He threw a Batpunch. The Batwet Batbook ejected another Batwave. Suddenly, the Batjoker (renamed in a separate Batpetition) appeared.
"Batjoker?" Batman exclaimed. "Why are you here?"
"Batarkham asylum!" (yeah it was renamed in a Batpetition) "It's being Batflooded!"
"But, Batjoker," Batman said pensively, "we're mortal enemies."
"I know that, Batman," said Batjoker. "But in the face of this Batwave... we need to become Batfriends!"
Batman paused. He considered Batjoker's proposal. "Okay," said Batman. "Let's fight this Batwet Batbook." They fought the Batwet Batbook valiantly, draining the Batwater from the Batcity. They stared at the newly moistened streets of the Batcity, and then glanced at each other. This is where the toxic Batyaoi happens. They had a Batwedding and never had to worry about the evil Batwet Batbook again.
Until the even wetter Batwet Batbook appeared to terrorize Batman and Batjoker of Batcity...