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The GameStephano was calmly playing his Sonic video game, losing to King Arthur terribly, but keeping his cool. And Mr. Chair was freaking the hell out because:
"I'M FUCKIN' HUUUUUNGRY!" Mr. Chair yelled, snuggling Pongoose.
"WHAT!?" Stephano screamed, throwing his Wii mote and nunchuck.
"Yes :3" Mr. Chair smiled.
The bro was driving back from the grocery store, on his way to pick up Mr. Chair from his week long visit with Stephano. Stephano got two ACTUAL hits on King Arther.
"YES!" Stephano yelled getting sweatier by the minute.
"NO, WHATABUBUDABUDA??" Stephano babbled dumfounded cause he swung his sword at the right time but the game didn't register it! Then he started whimpering in the corner .
"Aw, don't be showin yo bualsaq to the camera man." Mr. Chair cooed.
"But-but, Caliburn is such a NAVI! D':" Stephano complained back.
"OOOOOHHH!" Mr. Chair exclaimed.
"I AM MAD AT YOUH!" Stephano said in an airy tone pointing to the TV.
"MR. CHAIR! BRO IS HERE!" Mayo yelled.
The ShushStephano was browsing the internet, because he was bored as shit. He was content, looking through old times he and the bros had together.
"HOLY SHIT, IT'S ANOTHER FUCKIN DAY!" Mr. Chair wailed, running in the room.
"What the fuck!?" Stephano gasped inwardly, jumping up.
"IT'S THE BEST DAY EVER AGAAAAIN!" The other screamed.
"Mr. Chair?" Stephano asked.
"CAUSE I'M A STUPID FUCKIN CHAIR, AND I DON'T KNOW SHIT! AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS TO BE SAD!" Mr. Chair continued, doing the Macarena.
"Let me guess, you're fucking hungry? Let's get you some food." The golden male life form sighed, walking past the dancing chair.
"HOLY HELL! THAT GUY'S BRINGING ME FOOD!" Mr. Chair gasped, following him.
They went to the kitchen and got some French Silk ice cream for the hungry chair.
"THIS FOOD SUCKS AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW IT!" Mr. Chair yelled, spitting ice cream everywhere.
"Stop yelling dipshit!" Stephano scolded.
"Sush, we've been through this, you'll wake the bros." Mr. Chair smiled innocently, b
The HungerMr. Chair was reading in the early hours of the morning, before the sun came up, like 3:56 AM. His Bro Stephano was sitting at a desk nearby, sleeping. Mr. Chair suddenly looked up from his book, firmly shut it, stood up, and tapped on Stephano's shoulder.
"Hmph? -_e" The golden boy replied.
"I'M FUCKIN' HUUUUUUUNGRY! O3O" Mr. Chair yelled in a demonic voice, right into his ear.
"HOLY FUCK! OoO" Stephano screamed, jumping up.
"Shhh, you'll wake the bros :3" Mr. Chair whispered.
"Geezus Christ Mr. Chair! Couldn't you wait till evening? "
"No :3" Mr. Chair purred.
"Ugh, fine let's go -_-*" Stephano said getting up. The only reason why Mr. Chair couldn't go alone was because he was afraid of the dark, and he got lost easy.
After Stephano got Mr. Chair a can of fresh MANDALIN oranges , they went back to their room.
"Is your hunger quenched now? -_-" Stephano sighed.
"No, I'M STILL FUCKIN HUUUUUUUNGRY! D:" Mr. Chair exclaimed again annoying the golden one even more.
'Are you fucking kid
Mr. Chair and Stephano had baked some fairy cakes, Birthday Rainbow CHIP, to be spot, fucking, on. They are frosting said fairy cakes. Mr. Chair frosted a curvy penis on one of his, and Stephano had been pouting like a little CUNT! AND FUCKING FROSTED A CURVY ASS CIRCLE WITH THE FUCKING WEEEEAVE TIP!
I need a cup for my drinking habits! The golden man announced, rummaging through the chairs cupboard for a pink cup.
He got water inside of the cup, and Mr. Chair began playing with the fridge water. He pushed the button, and made it squirt on his male reproductive organ, the floor, and all over his wooden body. Mr. Chair began wiping the cold, clear liquid with his socks, and asked for a towel. Stephano jogged up the stairs menacingly, and grasped a green face towel.
What the fuck is THAT!? Mr. Chair snapped, moisting all over the floor.
A TOWEL, tard facial! Stephano growled seductively.
Couldnt get a big towel!? LIKE A BIG DICK!?
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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