Lame (BWWM)

Chapter 3

"I'm in love with the cocoa!" Who in the greatest hell is singing? I started opening my eyes as the smell of something filled my nose. What the fuck is that smell?

"IM IN LOOOOVE WITH THE COCOA." I sat up and found myself on a green and blue plaid loveseat. It was soft and comfortable, but looked like it came straight out of '95. Looking around at the place I was at, it seemed cozy. I felt like I could come home from lame ass college and all of my worries would leave my mind. Shit had me feeling more emotional than when I listen to Drake at 3am.

Drake has me feeling some type of way sometimes, man.

That awful singing brought me back to reality. Where the fuck am I and who in the fuck brought me here? I stood up from the couch and made my way toward that God awful funk. This motherfucker obviously doesn't know how to cook shit.

Fun Fact: I can cook my ass off, yo. My cooking is fire as fuck. I can light up the grill with my cooking. GET AT ME GORDON RAMSAY.

I walked my tall and lanky ass self into the kitchen and saw the Gigalo King opening up the oven, revealing what the fuck was making the stench. It looked like über fucked up brownies. I really don't know how else to describe it.

"Uh..." I started, making Fuck Face jump around to look at me. I pointed to the oven, "The fuck is that shit?" The Guano King looked at me and pleasantly sighed before smiling. "Well, Franklin, my boy, they are brownies with a hint of something special for you." I rubbed my aching neck and narrowed my eyes at him. "What makes it so 'special'?" I asked. Seriously, I don't need this scrub poisoning me or some shit.

Butt Fart must have sensed how warry I was, because he rushed toward me. "Oh, please sit at the table and get ready for the best brownies that you've ever had." He gently pushed me down on the wooden chair before running back to the stove like a fucking goblin. After grabbing a plate that looked older than George Washington and placing a slice of booboo brownies onto it, he handed it to me and then turned to the fridge.

It smelled awful but my fucking stomach growled in anger from me not eating anything in a while. I sighed to myself before trying a piece.

TELL ME WHY THIS IS THE BEST SHIT I HAVE EVER TASTED. LIKE... FUCK WHATEVER BROWNIES MY MOMMA HAS EVER MADE AND GIVE ME THIS SHIT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. DAMN.

" I see that you enjoy the blood brownies?" I had already ate the whole damn thing and swallowed before he said that. I squealed like a motherfucking pig. WHO THE FUCK PUTS BLOOD IN SOME BROWNIES?! TELL ME.

"Yo, why in the fuck did you put blood in the brownies?" FartLoser450 put his hands up in defense, "You keep rubbing your neck because it aches, yes?" I slowly nodded. The fuck this dude getting at? "Blood will help heal your neck. See, that twas why I put blood in the brownies."

Yo is this dude forreally serious right now?

"That's one of thee dUMBEST THINGS THAT I HAVE EVER HEARD. The fuck happened to my neck that was soooo bad that I need blood to heal it??"

Goopy Kraft left the kitchen and came back a few seconds later with a mirror. "Look." I glared at him, but took the mirror from his hand and turned it around so I could look at my cute ass self. Who the fuck is this? Dude looks too handsome to be me, if i'm going to be honest.

"Yo, seriously, who is this guy?" I questioned Koopa Troopa. He laughed his hearty laugh, grabbing his non-existent belly as if I had just told him the best gotdamn joke in the world. "Silly, he is you. You are now a vampire. And since you are a vampire, you are now at fully matured. You have stopped growing and look like what you would have looked like if you were twenty five."