Gay f@gs ●Dip+Bunny story told by a fat bastard●

Part 10: Letter (No Cartman again)

(CUTE) Image not mine again

"...And I hope you're well- No no! Trash!" Phillips trash can was full of balled up letters that were meant to go to a certain Antichrist. The reason they were all trash? Phillip wanted- No needed this letter to be perfect. He hadnt spoken to or seen Damien in months and hed rather not embarrass himself on paper to the one person he was completely sure hated his guts. "Dear Damien, Hello there! I- Ugghhh! Trash!" He wouldnt settle for anything that made him cringe even the tiniest amount. Unfortunately just writing the letter made him cringe. He was never going to send Damien that letter was he? "Wait a minute.... I shouldnt send him a letter after all....." Phillip changed his mind all of a sudden and closed his pen, putting all his unused paper in a neat pile. He didnt want to copy that one fanfic Cartman told him about. Then again he really wanted to contact Damien is some way. But copying is bad! But its not copying if you think about it! Its bad! I want to talk to Damien though! But he hates me! Phillip continued fighting himself inside his head until he opened his pen once again, took a piece of paper and started writing again.."Dear Da- TRASH TRASH!"

While Phillip struggled to write his one letter somewhere deep in the underworld was a certain king having trouble with his son who was breaking things and yelling constantly and setting things on fire. "GRRAAHHHHHHHHGGGG" CRASH SMASH ○Why was he doing this? Some fat bastard and his freaky imaginary friend flipped his way of thinking in his sleep.

"Hey!"

"You take that back!"

Infact they were spying in this exact moment, watching Damien throw things and his father try and calm him down. "I know youre heartbroken by why all this angry all of a-" "I AM NOT HEARTBROKEN I AM JUST ANGRY FATHER" Things were being thrown left and right. Everything was in flames. The entire room in ruins. This was exactly what Eric wanted. All Damien could think was, "KILL" and "MURDER" and "DEATH" and "DIE" and "GRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH". He then proceeds to throw a table nearly hurting his poor hell hounds. "Damien chill!" His poor father would shout. The hell hounds would bark and whine and run around aimlessly as well causing the biggest ruckus you'd ever seen. "I should retire being a father for about 10 years.... do we still have milk?"

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"From, your... Hm.... What am I to Damien....?" Back at Phillips house the letter was almost finished. But one question remained, what was Phillip to Damien? Friends? Couldnt be! Enemies? Oh I sure hope not! Classmates? Yes but it doesnt feel right! Lovers? Oh! Hehe... Lovers... Swoon... Ah! I mean NO! Nobody? Probably... But I dont like it! He couldnt decide on anything. What was he to Damien? "Ehm.... Uh.... Hn...... OH ILL NEVER FINISH THIS LETTER!! TRASH! ITS ALL TRASH!!!" Phillip was on the verge of tears. This letter would never be sent!

10 seconds later

"From, Phillip Pirrup. Oh how perfect! Well kind of.... There are tear stains on it... Well hopefully Damien doesn't notice! If he even gets this letter that is..." Phillip had cried before after and during writing that letter. Almost every part of it was sad. And he had gotten seriously frustrated. But aside from that, another question remained, how long would letter take to get to hell? Will Damien even read it? What if it doesn't even make it to hell? Did I say one more question? I meant a million and one questions from a very stressed blonde british boy. Ill just send it he thought. No big deal he thought. "I CAN DO THIS" He'd yell. "NO. BIG. DEAL." Hed yell. "Oh who am I kidding..?" Hed say quietly. "I wont send it. Everything will go wrong..." Hed said quietly as he put the letter in the drop box. He was too lost in his thoughts to notice. "Oh ill just go home... Wait where did my letter go? Did I send it already? Oh dear.... OH NO I HAVE TO GET IT OUT!!!" He put his arm in trying to reach for it. And got stuck. "Um... Hold on im sure I can... Erm..... Help... Anyone..... Please..?" Trying to pull himself out he'd hear giggles behind him coming from none other than Stan, Kyle and Ike who, for the record, were forced to spy by fat boy. "Oh for- What the bloody hell are they doing here? I could use some help you... You.... You slags! Tossers! Wankers! Cheese eating surrender monkeys!!"