FM Fanfiction Masterthread

[leyva45]

parker x creature x similaris

[parkerparkour]

parker x creature x similaris

how dare you
(nice waifu theme)

[ShortcutButton]

i has more. All of these were made by Cyan, except the last one which I made (qq)
Spoiler:

His father had always gone to such passive aggressive lengths to make sure that his son would be in the best possible situations. Putting together twelve suitors and making them solve puzzles until one remained seemed just enough lime him. A girl named Nelly eventually won, due to some level of skill and inane luck. Met had dressed for the occasion, as Nelly lifted up out of the maze his father had built. A rose in his mouth, wearing a dashing suit.
"Hello. To my greatest understanding, we've got roughly two days to make a relationship happen before we marry. I trust that you're suitable enough for two days of conversing with the son of the father who murdered approximately a fuckton people for this?"
"Uh."
"Well, then, it seems like we've got a predicament. I guess we could always do round two and use you as a puzzle..." He trails off.
"No! I'm... sure. Yes. We ca-can do this." She had a nervous stutter, he noted with a taste of annoyance. Nothing that couldn't be fixed over time. He held out his hand and she took it.
"I've booked reservations at a very nice restaurant, Nelly. I think you'll like it." He traced out meaningless words on the palm of her hand with his ring finger. His father instructed him that this was very romantic and something he should do. "I assume you don't have anything against cuisine from Italian Restaurants? A bottle of red, a bottle of white, it all depends on your appetite..."
She gave a nervous grin. "No, I'm alright with Italian food."
"Good, because I can't stand it. I'm ordering a pizza and then watching some kind of criminal show because, as someone very dear to me once put it, 'if you aren't doing it for the ironic purposes, then you're as much of a waste of space on this earth as I am'. Psych, I think, would be hilariously suitable."
Nelly's eyes kind of spaced out. Was she wondering if she should've died in the maze, he thought? Hope not, anyway, otherwise my father's gonna be really annoyed at my lack of social skills. "That works..?"
"Of course, I wouldn't have expected you to reject anyway." He stepped into the car, and she did likewise. She was on the passenger side and he was driving. It was fully of a waste, but Met prided himself on extruding class at all possible opportunities. It was a silent drive to the house, where they found a waiting pizza and a nice couch to sit on and watch... well, whatever.
"I hope tonight's been suitable enough. Tomorrow, I think we'll go listen the complete oeuvre of Beethoven. He always held a miraculous awe with the piano, I think. I hope you concur with me on this affair."
"Y-yes, Met."
"There's also one matter we should probably partake in before my father gets in an ornery mood. A kiss." He leaned in and gave a quick peck on her lips. Nothing more. "You can sleep in any of the multiple rooms we have. Whatever you wish, my fair maiden."
"O-okay." She thought that there were many worse things to have happened to her. She supposed that she could also, maybe someday, get used to it.

Parker sat on the edge of her steps, recently rejected by Munch. Her parents wouldn't let her in due to an early dispute, and she was left sitting on the steps in a dress unsuitable for the cold. She sighed, and rifled through her purse. She didn't really have anyone she could turn to now, and dialed up a number.
"Rock."
"Parker? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me. I need some help." Parker let out a sigh. It's gotten that bad, she supposed.
"We aren't... on speaking terms, Parker."
"You're the only one I know and oh god it's so cold, Rock. There's no one I can turn too." She sobs out the last words, playing it up.
"Parker, I told you, your parents would kick you out if they ever found out about it."
"I knowwww. I just... didn't... Munch."
"Alright, fine! I'll be over." Parker can almost hear the slam. That buys her one night. She has no choice other then to wait until she hears Rock's motorcycle screech up to her. "Couldn't have brought a car?"
"You're lucky I'm picking you up, Parker."
She didn't have anything to say to that.
She managed to beg for another night, even though it was uncomfortable for both. Rock was a mixture of cold and probing, all about her leaving him for the equivalent of a pimp.
"Why did you even leave me?" He asks, finally, sitting on his bed with his hands holding his head.
"Money. Money, mostly, Rock." She states, uncertainly. A half truth. Maybe if she plays this right... "I... still love you, Rock."
He sighs. "I wish I could believe that."
"I do. You might not believe me, but really, all I want is your hands around me, pulling me in for a kiss." She was playing with fire. Rock still wanted her, maybe.
"I can't, Parker. You just left me in the cold. Physically. That hurts more then you think."
Another night on the edge of the cliff, she supposes, eating a hastily cooked hotdog. Rock hesitantly looks at her.
"If you didn't have your addiction..."
"I know, Rock. I'm sorry."
"I can't believe you actually kept some of that on your person at all times. That's the only reason you haven't flipped out yet."
"I... fucked up, okay, Rock? Is that good enough for you!"
"No. Not really." He leans back in his chair.
You think you've managed to make a few sparks into a roaring fire of attraction for Rock over time. He's back to where you were so long ago.
"Have you thought about it, Rock?" She asks with a coy smile. His only answer is rough lips against hers, hands snaking behind her back. She feels his teeth, and it's different in a way. In the end, she feels cold steel around her hands.
"I'm punishing you for all you've done, Parker." She draws an uncomfortable comparison to Munch, but in the end, she needs a place to live. She accepts it reluctantly.

Alouvre couldn't ignore the fact that Arc was literally sitting on her window, with a rose in her mouth, acting like the coyest motherfucker possible. She couldn't. Alouvre broke down laughing after an intense stare down.
"Yo. I didn't climb the fuck up two flights of stairs to get laughed at, Alouvre."
"You're so lovesick at this point. I've only been gone for a week." She smirks, knowing the effect she had on Arc. "What would you do without me?"
"My ego would be in better shape."
"Of course. Your all important ego..." Alouvre trails off for a moment as she slips up closer to rest her hand tantalizingly close to Arc's thigh. "Just for that, I'm making you wait even longer."
"Goddammit, and I even bought a rose. A rose, Alouvre!"
Alouvre shook her head and plopped down on her chair, picking up where she left off in her book. It wasn't that good of a book by all standards, but it had cat girls flipping the fuck out and that's like, at least worth 2 bucks. Arc gives up and collapses on her, no, their bed, and flips open her phone. It's peaceful for only a few moments.
"Hey, Alouvre."
"Yeah?"
"Should I go on being dejected and stomp out of this apartment half clothed or are we going to vaguely do something related to being a couple?"
"Option one sounds like a good option, especially considering the fact that you'd get undressed and I'd get to watch."
"You seem keen on option 2, though."
"No, because I have a modicum of self control."
"Dammit."

"Just deal me the damn cards, already," Cyantic chimed in most unhelpfully, he thought. He was heavily drunk and had already managed to charm the rest of the participants into forfeiting or going utterly broke. There was a guy at the end, some depressive maniac who hasn't said a fucking word. "We're waaaaiiiiittttiiiinnnnggg. I need to pay off my tab." Fuck him.
"I'm dealin', alright? Calm your sex organs."
"Sex organs? Waiter!" Cyantic flags down another waiter. "This guy is talking about sex organs. I'm going to need something that will make me regret living tomorrow." The waiter seems to knowledgeably nod at his predicament, and he slaps down the remaining money he got from Rock who fucked off a hour ago. Elastoid decided this was the most opportune time to finally do his job. He laid it down, having finally gone to blackjack. Probably against some rules or some shit, but he didn't have the effort to care. He dealt out six cards. Depressing guy got a king, Cyan got an ace, and he had a lonely five.
"So, what will it be this round?" Cyan asked. Depressing guy opened his wallet and threw the remaining money on the table. "And, Elastoid, I'm willing to bet you want to put something on the line yourself?"
"If I win or we tie, you're my next conquest. If I lose, I'll toss you a week's worth of money from this shit job. If depressing maniac wins, we both fuck off and go our separate ways."
"That sounds agreeable to me." Cyan stated with a smirk. He'd wipe it off of his face soon. Depressing Maniac holds and Cyan holds. DM flips 20, Cyan flips 21, the bastard.
"Down to you, dealer. What will it be?" Elastoid flips over his card. Seven, thirteen. He could make this work. He pulls the first card, an ace. Fourteen. A second card makes six. Do or die at this point. Cyan licked his lips.
"This'll be an absolutely soul crushing loss for you, Elastoid, I reckon." He slumps back on his stool, knocking back another drink. He knew the odds were absolute shit. Two out of four aces pulled, something like 45 cards in the deck. He pulled at six. Twenty fuckin' six.
"I'll take the cash now, and abscond. Have fun sitting at home with your fantasies." He tips his hat, knowing that would get to him (bastard, yet again), and scoops up the money after Elastoid tosses down $200. Then, with a wink, he disappeared into the night, and Elastoid knew that he simply couldn't get the last word with a guy like that.
You couldn't beat those guys at gambling, they were simply the best at their snarky horseshit.

"Welcome to my lair, Rock. I hope it's everything you wanted in this blossoming relationship with me." Arc had his boots propped up on his desk, sarcasm lacing every word with dripping acid. "I hope you appreciate the decadent detail that went into this arrangement. When I heard that you were being added to the team, I just had to do this." His jacket was open, and he was shirtless. Every rocking motion he made just let him see more of the body... and wow, Arc was pretty hot. Rock would pretty much hit on anything that had a hole in it, but this was definitely a step above his usual fare.
"I can tell that you've made everything perfect for this rendezvous. Except for the necessary accompaniment alcohol." He felt like this was a pretty good jab at him, as he hung his coat on the hanger.
"You're civilized enough to use the hanger. I'm impressed." Arc sneaks out a bottle and a few glasses and pours it in. "Enjoy, barbarian. I know I will, as a man of refined taste."
"So refined that you put your boots on your mahogany desk that was exquisitely crafted." He was getting a hang of this.
"Indeed. So civilized in fact, that I think you need to just appreciate the amount of civilization here. It's the next level. Spread the news, ring the fucking bells, etc etc etc. Also, I know you're in to me, you are fucking elementary level of shit at hiding your boner."
His facade went to hell in a hacksaw. He couldn't even appreciate how perfectly it fell apart.
"So, here's the deal, Rock. I give you a night of your life, and then you part from here. If you aren't absolutely worthless, maybe we'll have a second night." He stands up, and crosses the distance. A vice gripped his chest and his arm, drawing him in. He felt teeth on his neck, and a slow trickle of blood. Arc would play it rough throughout the night, it seems. This was surprisingly familiar, he thought, before he finally gave in and let himself give into the primal feeling rising up from his heart.

cy: "i am rich but i am sad"
alouvre: "hi i will be in relationship with u"
cy: "yay am happy now"
cy: "wait you are bad person"
cy: "that is ok, power of love"
alouvre: "yay"
cy: "yay"
cy: *violently fucks alovre*

Oh and don't put these in the OP alzar, theyre just little gift baskets and shouldn't be treated as main events.

[Arcthurus]

Cyantic stop putting me in your fanfics

And also alouvre is a guy

[SirCakez]

Cyantic stop putting me in your fanfics

And also alouvre is a guy

pssst
they know

[alouvre]

didn't see this anywhere so I suppose nobody had it. some of these are pretty nsfw too and they don't even relate to FM all that much but hey.

Spoiler:

Cow got up from his computer, tired from writing yet another FM pitch involving marmalade, lynching only with a supermajority, and three informed minority alignment-converting factions. It was time to get a well-deserved snack, preferably something with Canadian bacon, melted cheese, and a croissant. He wasn't sure why the idea of a croissant was strangely worrying, but he was hungry.

Walking into his kitchen, he didn't expect to bump into another person, mostly because he lived alone in a cardboard shack. He also didn't expect the intruder to be a carbon copy of himself... with the same brown hair, the same soup-stained shirt, and the same hungry look in his eyes. His eyes flicked down; there was something else that they had in common. He stumbled, grabbing the mysterious Cow-copy by the shirt, and they looked into each other's eyes. The other Cow reached up, twisting a hand in Cow's hair, and they spoke the same words from the same two mouths.

"Let's fuck."

Right in his kitchen, Cow tore off his shirt, hearing cotton rip; the other Cow threw off his pants with fumbling fingers. Cow reached down and stroked his own leg on another person, the other Cow moaned, and they smashed their faces together and tangled their tongues on each others mouths.

Cow fumbled and grabbed his double's cock, jerking it with a shaking hand while the fingers of his trembling other hand fluttered around his (not-quite virgin) asshole, strawberry scented lube

TrueGent leaned against his muscle car, a burned down cigarette between two fingers. The night sky sure was bright tonight, with a full moon and stars visible in the country darkness. He took a long drag of smoke and blew a plume of smoke towards the moon, before turning to face his sweetheart. "Leyva, do you think it was a bad idea to run away from home and drive about 3 states away to get married?"

Leyva stared at him. A cricket chirped in the country night. "Are you fucking serious? I'm not even old enough to get married, I thought we were just driving to go buy some cool rocks." Leyva paused for a moment, the revelation fuelling the gears in his mind. "Oh shit, Rock's not going to like this. He might blacklist me again."

TrueGent stretches his arms out, spreading them out to rest on his car. "Then we'll just stay away from him. You don't have to go back, baby, it's fine if we–" TrueGent leaned in to give Leyva a kiss.

"The fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you? When did I sign up for this?" Leyva punched TrueGent in the face, knocking him into the country grass, and got into TrueGent's car, driving off into the country night.

"Wake me up inside," TrueGent whispered to himself.

Alzar steps into the bedroom, swirling a fluted glass of cognac in one hand, letting the expensive vintage swish around in the dim candlelight of his room. He holds the stem between two fingers, then throws it out the window. The tinkling of glass is the only sound in the night other than that invisible dog that only barks when the moon is at a perfect waning gibbous, like it is tonight.

"I hate grape juice," he mutters and steps out of his bikini.

He looks over to the large, canopied bed in the center of his room. "Alzar, are you there?" He calls, getting some dicks out of his hair.

"Yes, Alzar." Alzar says seductively from the bed. They are surrounded by candles. They are eating the candles, letting melted wax drip from their mouth. This is a very romantic moment. Alzar burns their tongue from trying to swallow a candle whole

"Oh, good. I was worried," Alzar says. "I brought some dicks for you, as our romantic dinner tonight."

"Oh, excellent," Alzar says, reaching for the dicks with one incredibly long arm, not getting up from the bed. "I was hoping you'd bring some," they say as they pour severed dicks into their gaping mouth, letting blood run in rivulets down their skin and between the grooves of their many, many teeth. The candles go out, snuffed out by the presence of so many dicks.

The other Alzar steps over to the bed, avoiding the spilled blood on the floor. "So, are you ready to have fun tonight?"

"Oh, sure. I brought Yu-Gi-Oh cards with me. Want to borrow a deck?"

Alzar frowns. "That's not the kind of fun I'm talking about."

"Too bad," the other Alzar says, stuffing the entire bed up their ass. "Too fuckin bad."

wait I need to post the pepperoni one

Spoiler:

Arcthurus sits in a room. He fidgets at the hem of his sleeve. A loose thread hangs from it. He makes a mental note to go to his tailor to get him to do something about it, before promptly discarding the thought in favour of unravelling his sleeve a little more, drawing out just a little more thread.

A clock ticks. The sudden noise makes him jump, despite the fact that the clock had been ticking for a while. To be specific, 3 hours, 45 minutes, and 26- now 27 seconds. But really, who's counting?

Arc twitches, a shudder curling through his body. His hand has a slight tremor running through it, like someone's stilled his heart and eyes and lungs and ran a single electric current through his hand alone. He rests his hand on his knee, but it continues to tremble. With his other hand, he pulls at the loose thread, unravelling it into different fibers and ruining the sleeve of his nice suit jacket just a little more.

His eyes snap to the coffee table in front of him. The clock is still ticking. His hand trembles, then stills. On the coffee table is a glass bowl. Crystal facets shine at him, distorting what's inside. He leans over a little, and blinks.

Pepperoni. The minimalist coffee table in the centre of the clean room, an elegant crystal serving bowl perched on the coffee table, the bowl filled to the faceted crystal lip. Filled with pepperoni.

Arc twitches. His hand on his knee shudders, just once. The hand fidgeting with the thread stills, before worrying at the thread just a little more fiercely than before, tearing a thread into nonexistence. He bites the skin of his lip, eyes fixated on the crystal bowl filled with pepperoni, on the minimalist coffee table. He hasn't eaten in exactly 4 hours, 26 minutes, and 18- now 29 seconds. But of course, he wasn't counting. Not counting the seconds. Not counting the pepperonis in front of him, in the crystal bowl perched on the minimalist coffee table.

One hand ripping a seam out of his nice fancy suit jacket, the other trembling, he grabs a slice of pepperoni. Just a single slice, he’s so hungry. One slice from a crystal clear faceted bowl filled with pepperoni, on a sleek coffee table.

It slides down his throat, before he even chews. Eyeing the crystal faceted bowl once more, he sees that it looks no different. His stomach growls. His suit sleeve is torn by his endless fidgeting. His hand is shaking now. He braces it against the smooth, sleek coffee table, but it won’t stop. Won’t stop fidgeting.

Arc grabs a handful of pepperoni. Throws it down his mouth before even bothering to try to think of chewing first, grabs another and it goes down just as fast. His shaking hand is braced against the coffee table but it won’t stop shaking; his other hand is tearing at the fabric and the threads and the fibers of the sleeve of his nice fancy expensive suit jacket; his other hand is grabbing handfuls and handfuls of pepperoni, and the clock is still ticking.
It’s been 6 hours, 52 minutes, and 7- now 8 seconds. But of course, Arc isn’t counting. Nobody is counting. His one hand completely rips off the sleeve of his frayed suit jacket, his other hand is vibrating and causing the floor to shake, his other hand is grabbing pepperoni, his other hand is braced against the minimalist coffee table covered in shards of glass and endless, endless, pepperoni. Arc downs shards of crystal glass, the pepperoni by the mouthful tunnelling down his throat, the sleek minimalist coffee table.

Arc is screaming now. Blood drips from his mouth that’s still filled with pepperoni. The minimalist coffee table with the crystal faceted bowl is gone now, the bowl now nothing but shards of glass still snaking down his throat, down with the pepperoni and the minimalist coffee table. Arc shoves his entire suit jacket down his throat with one hand, while the other cradles a single, one slice of pepperoni. It’s all over now, and with another hand, he braces it against the clean floor-

but wait. The floor is gone. Arc shovels it into his mouth with both hands, another hand cradling the last slice of pepperoni, another hand shaking and trembling until it stops existing on this plane.

Arc screams, and the clock is ticking despite the fact that he had devoured it long ago. 2 days, 18 hours, 572 minutes, and an endless amount of seconds, and Arc still wasn’t counting the seconds or the number of hands he now had.

hot

[Rickdaily12]

Found another interesting short story over here... written by SecretWeaponCoffee.

Also, this short made by WZombie.

[Alzar]

Spoiler: "God, are these Vigilantes?"

The waiter nods, his head still held up high. "Would that be a problem, sir... ah... ma'am... ah, well, yes...? Our chef can provide a replacement."

"No, no. It's fine. I love them." Just to convince him that I'm not saying it to make him feel better, I dig in with both my hands. Ooh, slippery. I really should go out to eat more, shouldn't I? I love going out, I can never get good Vigilantes by myself. They slide around my fingers like cold noodles, but I manage to take hold of a few and slip them into my mouth. I chew.

I swish the blood in my mouth. It tastes like powder and copper, just like any good Town Killing should. Shards of metal scrape against my gums. I swallow the whole mess down. Savoury.

"Waiter, may I have a napkin? And some... some Jailors, if you would."

He looks down at me, his head still held up high. I wonder how waiters do that? "Are you of age?"

I slide over a Yu-Gi-Oh card. He looks down for a moment, noting the name (Soul Absorbing Bone Tower, of course it is, what else would it be) and nods. He goes off to wherever the kitchens are.

The Vigilantes really are delicious. Bullets. Gunpowder. Wonderful, simply wonderful. They always say it's bad to play with your food in public, but I slide them around. It's fine, this is okay. Nothing better to do with a good meal, and these are better than good. Just divine. I love how they shout and twirl in my dish. Wonderful. Really, really wonderful. I slurp a few more down, and Ican feel them just sliding down in a spiral.

The waiter is back. He slides a few Jailors into my dish, which is already a slurry of blood and gunpowder and shards of lead. Oh, these are really good. I feel kind of full.

"Waiter, may I have this to go?"

He nods. "Certainly."

I smile and sit back, waiting for the check. Nothing like a good meal.

[Unorthodox1337]

My first fanfic, inspired by Alzar.

Gotta catch 'em all
Spoiler: Alzar was reading through 10D looking for inspiration. He hadn’t wrote a fanfiction in a long time, and wanted to please Invenio and Cyantic with a nice surprise. He made sure that his stories were full of content and interesting details, and always had his signature twist at the end. After a good hour or two, his fanfictions were down, and they were perfect.
As he reads them to Invenio and Cyantic, they share a haughty laughter about the terrible players in 10D. It was good fun, and Alzar then decided to invite Invenio to play some Pokemon Go with him at the nearby zoo. Invenio thought of Alzar as a friend, but not on a friend to friend level but it was more of a pity friendship. He knew that Alzar would resort to writing anime fanfiction if he didn’t share his time with Alzar, and happily sacrificed some of his brain cells for the bettering of humanity.
But Alzar was done writing fanfiction for now. He was exhausted, and wanted to have some fun, and then asked Cyantic. Cyantic refused, saying that he had a doctor’s appointment even though he was boasting on how he’d sleep all day. Odd, Alzar thought he was free, but things come up.
Alzar starts heading out towards the zoo, when his dad turns to him and asks, “Alzar, where are you going?”
Alzar responds, “I’m going to the zoo dad!”
Alzar’s dead asks questionably “Why? We just went there last week!”
Alzar then exclaims “I’m going to go catch some Pokemon!”
Alzar’s dad looked at Alzar straight in the eyes with a death glare so full of disappointment as if he his son was Lisq. He stood up, continuing his glare as he walked slowly to Alzar.
“Dad?” asks Alzar. He didn’t know what was going up.
Alzar’s dad doesn’t respond, and all of a sudden screams “ALZAR YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE. YOU ARE A FUCKING LOSER, GET OUT. I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN.” He leaps forwards and grabs Alzar’s phone off of him, and right before he throws it Alzar shouts
“DADDY NO! I NEED TO CATCH POKEMON!”
Alzar’s dad slams the phone against the wall. The phone shatters on impact, and leaves a noticeable dent in the wall. Alzar falls to his knees, and tears start falling out of his eyes. Then, all of a sudden, he is filled with determination. He stands up, and shouts “GOTTA CATCH THEM ALL” and runs out of the house, and was off the the Zoo.
Alzar’s dad stayed at home, wondering if he was too harsh on Alzar. Alzar was always a nice boy, and never hurt anyone. He was just odd, and always spent his time writing stories about other kids on the internet. Maybe Pokemon Go was a good thing; he could finally meet some friends who’d make him normal. He feels a bit guilty for what he had son, knowing that Alzar didn’t deserve to be yelled at.
About an hour later, Alzar returns. He was carrying a large, opaque white bag and also a clear bag full of tennis balls and was speedwalking to his room.
Alzar’s dad wanted to ask what he got, but decided to rather let Alzar come to him. Maybe he decided to pick up sports?
As Alzar’s dad was sitting on the couch watching the local high school football team win their first match of the season, he starts smelling something… odd. It was an unrecognizable smell, but he still recoiled everytime he breathed. He thought he was imagining it at first, but something was off. He thought he heard something yell too.
Alzar’s dad turned off the TV, and he was hearing more closely what was going on. Alzar was yelling gleefully once in a while, and it likely was involved with that odd smell.
Remembering the tennis balls that Alzar bought, Alzar’s dad thought that Alzar might want to go to the local park and play some tennis. He stands up, and walks towards Alzar’s room. Alzar’s door is closed, which was uncanny of him as he always left his door open.
Alzar’s dad opens the door, and screams “WHAT THE FUCK!”
There were bloody tennis balls all around, with some green goo coming out of some of them. Alzar’s hands were bright red, and he was stuffing something into the tennis balls.
He was cutting up frogs and putting them into tennis balls.
Alzar’s dad stares in complete shock. What is going on?
As if clockwork, Alzar turns his head slowly. He meets his dad, and stares at him in his eye, and gives a slight grin, and says
“Gotta catch ‘em all!”

[Arcthurus]

So, a horse walks into a bar, right?

There's laughter, dancing, and Chelsea Dagger is playing. A flag, clearly Canada's and England's stitched into one, proudly decorates the wall. Some of the drunks playing billiard take a short moment to silently acknowledge the newcomer.

Seeing no opposition, the horse takes a seat at the counter. With a simple gesture of the hoof, the bartender comes to him, uninterestedly cleaning a dirty mug with a dirtier rag, their cat ears wildly trying to listen every single sound on the room.

"Wot can aye do for ya t'day, lad?"

Our horse doesn't respond immediately. They adjust their seat, nervously. "I...I-I-I'd...like a-- if it isn't much, I-", he stutters.

"Aye c'nt 'ear yo lad.", said the cat-something, visibly annoyed. "Speak LOUDER, that's the play."

Timidly, the costumer tries again. "I...I would like to order Rifles with Bananas, please."

The music stops. The mug crashes on the ground, the bartender hissing. There is a deadly silence in the whole building. "...Did they just order Rifles with Bananas?", someone said from the crowd.

The mob gathered around the horse and promptly shoved him out of the bar.

[Swordsworth]

Is this what you were doing when I was trying to call you

[Schultz128]

shrike< - Today at 7:40 AM
i cant eat because i went to the dentist yesterday and it hurts to do anything with my teeth
i dont need help im just complaining anf want a smoothie

TrueGent - Today at 7:45 AM
Alzar I'll hold you

shrike< - Today at 7:46 AM
thx truegent <3

[ChubbyMooshroom9]

you forgot the wings

[TheWolfBuddy]

and the cat ears