~Chapter Three~

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~Previously~

I walk toward the box and rip the papers off it, open the manual, scanning over the words.


'CONGRATULATIONS! You have just received a 2P ALFRED F. JONES unit. This unit is rather harsh, wild, and difficult to handle. This manual is to decrease that difficulty as much as possible. Therefore, we hope you can read for your own safety as well as others.'


Oh great.



~~~


"Just shush for a second okay, let me read this." I say, waving my hand up and down.


He rolled his eyes at me a plopped himself on the couch, watching my every move.


I kept reading,
'Technical Specifications:
Name: Alfred F. Jones. Also responds to Alfred, Al, Jones, Dickhead, Bastard, Prick, other similar insults, and Sexy Beast. Also responds to Allen and will sometimes request to be called this rather than Alfred.
Age: 20
Place of Manufacture: New York City, U.S.A
Height: 6'1'


"Damn he's tall." I accidentally say out loud. I quickly turn my head to see Allen for a second, he's just sitting there, smirking at me. I shudder at the thought of what he could be thinking about me, then take a glance at the other unit in my kitchen. 'Matt' was currently making more pancakes and rummaging through my fridge for what I'm guessing maple syrup. I smile slightly then bring back my attention to the manual once more.


'Weight: N/A it fluctuates with his weightlifting/protein ratio
Length: That bat ain't compensating.' -


"OKAY, I think that's enough." I say, blush tinting my cheeks.


I put Allen's manual down and walk to the other box to rip off the other manual. I begin reading it, skipping the introduction, going to "Technical Specifications:"


'Name: Matthieu Williams. Will respond to "Canada", "Canadia", "2P!Canada", "Williams", "Matt", and "Mattie".
Age: 20
Place of Manufacture: Manitoba, Canada
Height: 6'2
Weight: N/A
Length: That's not a hockey stick in his pants.'
My blush grows darker when reading that last part, I skip a couple a pages then stop at "Removal of your MATTHIEU WILLIAMS from Packaging:"
'Although MATTHIEU WILLIAMS is one of the calmer 2P! Units, he won't hesitate to maim you if you don't take extra caution in waking him up. Below we have listed several ways for you to wake him without meeting a hockey stick to the skull.

Make pancakes'


Ahhhh, so that's how he turned on, (okay that sounded wrong, good thing I didn't say it out loud). But what about Al?
I go back to the manual on the floor and sit down crisscross, my coffee table separating me from the unit sitting on the couch. I open up Al's manual again and skim through the pages to find the 'Removal' page.


"Ah, found it!" I say happily, grinning a bit.


'Removal of your 2p ALFRED F. JONES Unit from Packaging
Your unit is rather hard to handle, due to having a nasty tendency towards the asshole side, as well as a mean streak and no shame whatsoever. As such, waking this unit up can be challenging for those who don't know how to. We at Flying Chocolate Bunny Inc. take no responsibility if you sustain injuries from incorrect removal from packaging.

Cook something.Play some heavy metal music or a similar genre.Bring in a 2P ARTHUR KIRKLAND unit or 2P MATTHEIU WILLIAMS unit to wake him up'


Ah, now I get it.


The next section was "Reprogramming", but before I could start reading it the manual was snatched out of my hands.


"Hey!" I yell, a pout forming on my lips.


"You're not trying to turn us off are you?" Allen asked, skimming through his own manual.


"This is a lie ya know." He says, pointing to the 'Length' section in 'Specifications'.


"Yeah, sure." Sarcasm oozing from my words.


"Wanna find out?" He replies, being snarky. Him sticking his tongue out, showing off his small metal piercing.


My face is a tomato by now, my eyes not being able to break off from his.


Matt coughs loudly and glares at us both from underneath his shades. "Hey assholes, pancakes are ready."


Being able to break off from Allen's gaze I look towards the table to see a huge stack of pancakes. My eyes light up and I practically run to sit down at the table.


"You made pancakes, for me?" My excitement and happiness was clearly heard in my voice.


"You made too much batter, idiot." He scoffs out.


"Oh." My bitter word echo throughout the room. Allen and I sit down at the table and everything falls silent for a minute until I broke it.

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