THE DEATH OF A Mitchel Musso

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      It was the night after a terrible concert, soft, green rain trickled slowly down Mitchel Musso's (memeishly handsome) face. He cringed at the memories of him forgetting the words to his song, Hey in front of thousands of fans. If anything, they were the ones screaming at him, and after that performance, they'd never care enough to write him a letter... Mitch snapped himself back to reality and picked up his shovel, stowing it away in the back of his big, pink pickup truck. He didn't bother to give a second glance at the hole he'd just finished covering. Mitchel opened the front door of his truck and climbed inside, preparing for a long trip ahead of him. He started up the engines and turned on his windshield wipers. Unfortunately, the windows were stained green from the rain, and nothing would clean them. Unable to see anything, Mitchel kicked the glass pane off entirely and then began to drive.

My boi, Mitchel Musso, drove for what felt like hours (but was really only like 2 minutes xD) before stopping at the Drive Thru of a nearby McDonald's. When he got close to the restaurant, he noticed it was closed.

"The green rain is tainting tf outta our burgers." the sign out front read. Mitch silently sighed and drove away.

The green rain fell harder and, having no windows to protect him, Mitchel constantly jerked in pain. He was far out on the road with no way to turn back, though. He would have to brave through it. He squinted his eyes and drove as carefully as he could down the road until he crashed into a tree. Having only been driving at a mere five miles per hour, he turned out alright. The hard, green rain continued to pour down on poor Mitchel Musso. He whipped out his phone and dialed 911.

"Hello," a lady's voice answered, "what is your emergency?"

Mitchel opened his mouth to speak, but realized he couldn't produce so much as a single sound.

"Hello?" the lady responded again, "what is your emergency?"

Mitchel frantically waved the phone in the air, his grip on it, however, was not strong enough and it flung to the floor and broke. MY BOI, Mitchy M silently sobbed, alone in his vehicle, feeling the constant sting of the hard, green rain on his smooth, white skin.

The following day, the strange rain cleared up. Mitchel had managed to cry himself to sleep and awoke that morning to the glomp of bird shit landing directly on his nose. Mitchy wiped it off and opened his truck door and climbed out of his truck through his open truck door and paused by his truck while getting out of his truck to glance at his truck. It was no longer pink, but was instead as green as the rain from the night before.

"???" Mitchel thought.

He shrugged it off and walked to the back of his truck to retrieve his shovel from the trunk of his truck which he took out of the truck (the shovel) and then locked up his truck and walked away, shovel in hand. Mitchel Musso began to dig up another hole until he heard a peculiar shout behind him.

"OMIGAWD SHREK!! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?!?!" Yelled a girl, aged 19, pimping out in Shrek merchandise, "I'm a HUGE fan!!"

Mitchel Musso blinked three times in shock and then took a gander at his hands.

"Yup," he thought, "Greener than... something that's really green."

The girl ran up to Musso at Sanic speed, pen and paper in hand. Mitchel shrugged and decided to humor her. He signed "Ya boi Shrek lmao" sloppily onto the girl's piece of paper. She started to cry excitedly and then ran off yelling incoherent garbage at the wind.

Shrek, uh... I mean... Mitchel Musso, promptly continued digging. He dug until the hole was big enough to hold his truck. He then did the truck thing and pushed the truck into the truck hole. Then he covered it up with dirt and walked away.

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