Shrekigi

Him.

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I lay in bed. Tired from a long day of teaching 9 year olds fortnite dances and how to subscribe to PewDiePie.

A 9 to 5 endless job with no breaks in between. I pulled up my covers peeling my socks off with my stubby toes.

I tossed and turned ultimately laying restless while staring at the stained ceiling. All of the suddenly a stench wafted up my nostrils becoming a taste on my tastebuds.

The smell so strong and disgusting it was almost alluring. I want it. I want the stench. I inhaled deeply. Taking in the smell of rotted carcasses and burnt onions burning my throat.

It smells like the back of a slaughterhouse which is in the bottom of a dumpster.

What on Earth could have made a smell so unbearable yet so beautiful and gagworthy.

I looked down from the ceiling after seeing a slight movement in the dark of my room. I reached my hand out clicked on my light.

My eyes travel to the abnormality atop my fan.

Him.

Shrekigi.

Standing there...on my fan. In all his might and glory.

I've only heard of Shrekigi in folk lore and town tales.

But he's infront of me. Right before my pitch black pupils.

I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks damping my pillow. The smell he gives off burning my eyes balls.

I didn't dare speak a word not to scare off this beautiful beast. Tall. Handsome. Lanky forearms but thick long fingers.

His ears like a trumpet. Long with a wide spout. His purple cap sits atop his dry scalp with only stands of thin brown hair left. His eyes were beady yet round an buggy with large pink eye bags. His cheeks round and his nose oddly large in comparison to the long thin line he had for a mouth.

His mustache long going up towards my ceiling. Nearly touching the ceiling.

His chin was long and extended far from his face. His neck was long and his collar bones were exposed. He was wearing a hot pink spaghetti strap dress that was dangerously short cut. His arms slim and bony yet his thighs thicker than his entire body. One larger than the other.

Never have I ever seen such long leg hair.

He was bare foot yet hardened mud covered the soles of his feet to protect the soft tender skin underneath.

He had an onion is his left hand and a large purple tennis racket in his right.

He began his dance while looking directly into my eyes. I dare not blink nor look away as to not upset him.

More tears fell down my cheeks.

He squatted then stood back up before doing it once again continuing till it seemed like his thighs grew larger with everything squat.

He swung his racket nearly hitting the tip of my nose.

The pit of my stomach is on fire.

He sunk his beautiful golden teeth into a raw onion making a delightful crunch whilst not breaking eye contact.

The smell worsened.

My eyes were burning.

I couldn't handle it.

I blinked.

Once my eyes opened He stood there enraged atop my fan.

Once I blinked again and he was gone.

I have disappointed him.

My King.

Never again will I disappoint you Shrekigi.
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