[HIATUS] Sausage Party [Twisted Wonderland x Reader]

60: You May Not Be Guilty, But You're Ready To Confess

A/N: So this is the fucker: Eli. Aka "[F/n]." Hope you think he's neat!

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Did you ever tell your Eli that you absolutely hated the haircut he had in 7th grade? You're trying to remember back to a time when things were simpler, and you distinctly recall Eli's ugly ass haircut. You don't actually remember what kind it was, you just remember it was fucking stupid and fucking fugly as fucking hell.

The relevance? Absolutely none.

"Ma dame, are you listening?"

You look at Rook with a dead look in your eyes.

"No, not really," You bluntly reply, "I'm trying to keep my last bit of happiness by going to my happy place."

"Oh? Do tell, what happy place is this?"

"Back when I was in the womb."

"..."

"I would not have left the womb if I knew things would be like this."

Rook muffles his laugh while Vil sighs in defeat.

So your training isn't going as well as you hoped. In fact, you're starting to regret even coming here. What's the point in this training? "Learning how to sit like a proper lady" was not the idea you had for princess training.

Not to mention that you're so socially drained from what happened earlier in the Plaza. Stupid Grim was napping in the corner of the room on a pretty sofa. It was some kind of tea room that Vil and Rook had supposedly reserved so you can train privately in peace.

Anyway, what happened to sword fighting? To curse a bitch out when they call you a "boob" in a weird accent? Not that you're opposed to being called a boob, but it'd be nice to learn how to say "fuck you" in fancy talk anyway.

"Look, I-I'm sorry. I just... this is so boring—!" You groan dramatically and sink in your chair, "Also! Why is this important anyway? Why can't I be, like, a princess who's the ruler of vulgarity or something?"

"...My Lady, that's–not an appropriate title, even if it does exist," Vil shakes his head, "Why don't we try something else? It seems that sitting like a proper lady might have to wait another day."

"What's wrong with how I'm sitting now?"

Vil and Rook look at you.

You were man-spreading... in a dress.

"...Let's do something else," Vil stands up from the fancy table you were all at, "Do you know how to properly introduce yourself? Your official title, your words, mannerisms, and all of that?"

"Uhhh... like how the princesses do it in the movies?"

"...Yes."

"Then no," You shake your head, "I don't know how."

"Just follow my lead. Stand up, My Lady."

You refrain from rolling your eyes, standing up to be in front of the blonde.

"You are Princess [Y/n] [L/n] of..." Vil crosses his arms, "Where did you say you're from?"

Shit. If Tinkerbell was here, you could have at least had him lie for you about things like this since he apparently knew more about you than you knew about yourself. You don't really want to keep telling people you're from another Universe if you can help it.