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If it wasn’t for the fact that Lime was already acting like a weirdo, One would be having the time of their life right now! (Time of their unlife? After all, they were just a parasite puppeteering a body, but it was their life now, soooo no one cared.) After all, they’d already managed to kill someone, find a crewmate desperate and naive enough to do what they needed, and even manufacture enough of an alibi that no one accused them! Easy-peasy.
At least, it would be, if it wasn’t for LIME.
Seriously, for getting any crewmate infected, Two had chosen the absolute worst host! Lime was smelly, gross, annoying, stubborn, and every little thing wrong with crewmates.
Oh, but what really stung had nothing to do with Lime at all, of course.
Two wasn't doing anything.
One had already dealt with enough, but for some reason, Two was wandering around like it'd lost all memories, eating salty pizza, even talking to the doctor when they could easily make things difficult? Yeah, no, when was it going to actually be a team player?
The second time One heard it vomiting was already disgusting. What was worse was recognizing exactly what Two was doing-- or, rather, not doing.
Despite everything, Two wasn't in control yet.
Lime was infected, just like White. They'd practically died from head trauma. Everything about them said Two should be killing half the crew by now.
But no. Instead, One was stuck with Lime being a thorn in their side, like they didn't have enough issues, and they couldn't even kill them without likely hurting Two!
So sure, maybe when One pulled Lime aside, it’d been harsh in their approach. Maybe it’d demanded a bit much in telling them to get with the program. But could anyone blame One? It was working twice as hard as it should! It wasn't in a body built for this kind of hard work! It wanted a break!
So, fine. It was upset. It thought of killing someone else to get over it. Maybe it’d grab a salt shaker and get Lime out of the way. It could--
Wait.
…Why was there loud music playing?
It wasn’t Black’s kind of music, and it wasn’t One’s kind of music either. Some sort of… Frantic piano?
…Ugh. Fine. One wasn’t going to deal with that noise while it went to kill someone. There had to be a source, and they could probably break it before claiming it was just reacting to the annoying noise. No one would care. So far, the crew was practically oblivious.
One tracked the noise to Storage, where it only seemed to intensify. It crept inside. There was no way a crewmate could be there-- It knew where everyone was, so what was that noise?
“GET ‘EM!” a voice called, and all of a sudden, a dozen crewmates crawled out of every little hiding spot. A single crewmate, a dull blue shade with glasses and a sweater, sat atop a crate with a laptop, watching as the others swarmed One.
“What the-- What’s going on?!” One exclaimed. “Unhand me! Let go!”
“Nope! This is for Orange, nepo baby!”
“Green deserves better friends than you!”
“No way are you gonna hurt Brown!”
“Or Black!”
Together, the group lifted One into the air, and they carried it over to the trash chute. Though One struggled and tried to claw their way out, it only came across more stupid crewmates, ready to join the fight. Before long, the chute was open, and its host body was thrown in.
“Hey, Owl!” a pink crewmate called, waving excitedly. “Did you get all that?”
“I sure did,” the crewmate atop the crate said. “Liveblogging it as we speak. If anyone has any words to say?”
“You suck. You suck and you should get hit by a truck,” another crewmate called down the trash chute.
“...Thank you,” Owl finally said flatly. “Very insightful.”
“Couldn’t you have brought us to before when Purple died?” a red crewmate complained. “I’m still gonna beat you up in their honor--”
Owl cleared their throat. “Can I please get a serious comment?”
“Consider: Read Lost and Found by supermew100,” a third said. Owl slammed their head into the keyboard.
“Okay, that’s enough from the peanut gallery. Feel free to dump the salt; I’ll get us out of here.”
One looked up, just in time for someone to start pouring salt into the chute. It screamed, but it was already too late. The next thing it knew, the floor dropped out from under it, and it was expelled into space.
“Okay, everyone, let’s head out,” Owl said, gesturing to a vent. “Way home’s right there, and-- oh heck.”
There in the doorway stood a single crewmate.
Brown stared at the mob of crewmates and the weird amount of salt in the room. “...What.”
“Don’t worry about it.” One of the crew waved, then hopped into the vent, disappearing. The others followed, one by one, until all of them were gone. Brown looked at the vent, then finally shrugged.
Best not to question what had happened. It would be much easier that way.