The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Bad Boy From Under The Stall ~ Part 3

You know what? Fuck you, fuck the author, fuck Farfallah, and fuck this plot. I'm not gonna engage in this dumn shit anime crap. I don't need no stupid paper towels to dry my stupid hands like a stupid normie. I've already had three seasons of bullshit, and I ain't taking an ounce more. Wearing Kanye shades should be punishment enough.

I blow the guy a raspberry, flip him the ol' two-finger salute, and dry my hands on my shirt. "Fuck you and your shit knife."

"Do not call 'World-render' a simple nohz, you gloopy bratchny!" yells the tall idiot, but it's too late.

I open the bathroom door, but instead of seeing six idiot bad boys monologuing in a hallway, I see one lanky silly-strings bad boy in a bathroom. Hmmm... weird. Last time I checked, I was leaving the bathroom, not entering it.

I try again, turning around and leaving the bathroom, just to enter it again. So this is how an aneurysm feels like.

The weird, worm-on-a-string boy is leaning against the most-likely-pissed-on wall with that signature smirk every bad boy has. My inner bad boy senses are tingling. Or maybe my gaydar. Perhaps both. I would bet a pretty penny that he has something to do with this.

Just to be sure, I turn around once again to exit the bathroom, just to enter it once again, followed by one of his dumn anime giggles. Yep, I'm dealing with a magical bad boy.

Not to be confused with a magician bad boy. The worst thing they can do is try to make a heist or steal your social security number. Or make a mediocre tv show. I'm talking to you. Chris Angel. No, this is an advanced bad boy, full of magic, mystique, and a magic stick up his cave of wonders.

"Fufufu, having fun, my droogie?" he says, his eyes sparkling with magic and a hint of homoeroticism. "I'm afraid you will find denying me my pleasure to be... hard. Rock hard."

On second thought, it might be less of a homoerotic hint and more of a "predator" vibe. It now dawns on me that I'm alone in a neverending bathroom with a guy significantly bigger than me wielding a knife. I need an adult.

They say that madness is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. I think Einstein said it. Must be true, since I saw it on that one videogame with the island and the shooting and stuff. And while it might be true, I don't think Einstein ever had to escape a shanking in a public bathroom with only one exit, so forgive me for being a little mad and attempting to escape once again via the door. I run with all my might, only to return once again to the bathroom, and, even worse, crashing with the chest of the wispy bad boy, which might be as thin as a single spaghetti, but man if he ain't solid. I knock against him hard enough that my dumb shutter glasses fly out of my face and into the ground.

Gross. I ain't putting those back. I'm gonna get pink-eye.

"Oh," says the boy, taking a step towards me and getting uncomfortably close. "What do you have there, my droogie?"

I take two steps back, which is the equivalent of one of his long steps. It proves to be useless, since he takes two steps forwards, and another two more, pushing me against the wall, with him looking down at me very, very closely.

Okay, I'm officially freaking out here. Can't go back, can't go forward. There is only one thing I can do at this point. After all, this is not the first time we have been in this situation. So, come on, kids. What do we say when a strange person is trying to take us against our will?

"You're giving me an erection," I say as I immediately go limp. I would shit myself, but, you know, kinda running on empty.

He, however, presses my chest with one of his huge yaoi hands, preventing me from going down to the floor while his other hand touches my face. My right eye, to be exact. "What an interesting set of glazzballs you have there, droogie. Purple as lilacs in summer. I don't have one of those. The mark of Alexandria's Genesis. The power of long life, at the tip of my rooker. Those glazzballs of yours are worth a lot of pretty polly. Do you rassoodock fillying them for me?"