This is actually a lot longer, but I hated a whole lot of parts so I cut them out. DD:
Warnings: Absurd plot (if there is any), slight OOCness, and a whole lot of crack.
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Random Drabble #3: Toast, Taffy, and Crowley
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Initiating meltdown procedure in five seconds.
All evacuation attempts within a 15-mile radius from perimeter: FUTILE.
Summarization: You. Will. Be. Incinerated. Moron.
Starting countdown in five... four… three… two… one…“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY, FREAKING,
MAD?!”
… Zero.
You are one dead little Asian girl.
Kinda like those chop-chop ladies you hear on the local news. They get stuffed in potato sacks only to be thrown at the side of the riverbanks. Mice’ll find them, gnaw through the sack, then drag their heads out to feast on the—“You don’t go around selling your
soul!” cried the flustered boy.
“Much less for a
cookie!"
Toast looked at the cracks on the floor with utmost interest. Her hands fiddled with the hem of her shirt, her teeth showed through a very lop-sided grin, and sweat rolled down the sides of her face like a leaking tap.
“It was chocolate chip,” came her intelligent reply.
There was a stunned silence that hung in the air, before something inside the poor boy's head snapped. (His patience, his sanity, you choose.)
"Chocolate chip..?" he started, "Y-you sold your soul for
chocolate chip?!"
His face turned a shade redder, and she swore she could see smoke coming out of his ears.
"You sold you soul to the devil for a cookie!
I can't belive this! T-the
absurdity of it all! A-And are you telling me that a devil actually
exists? A flying demonic monster, capable of taking lives and unrelented mass destruction, going around looking for (stupid, idiotic, and absolutely infuriating) people like you to hand out cookies to?! That is sheer and utter lunacy, I tell you! Lu-na-cy!”
His cheeks reddened in anger as her face shifted in annoyance and she glared at him straight.
“I
told you. It was
chocolate chip. CHO-CO-LATE QUADRIPLE chip, in fact! And delicacies such as those are almost next to nothing to find. In short, my tight-butted friend:
I. Had. No. Other. Choice. If you were in my position, I’m sure you’d do it too!”
She crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath. (“And it
was the devil. He had wings and horns and everything.")
“I most certainly
wouldn’t!” he cried. Her “oh rly?” expression was ignored.
“I, for one, would tell the devil – IF he actually roamed the earth, giving cookies for souls to idiots like you – to take that damn cookie and cram it up his—“
“Hey, dude,” a third voice interrupted, “That’s, like, my homeboy we’re talking about here…”
Taffy glared at the dark-haired boy lounging on the porch, who only glanced back at him with a lop-sided grin.
“You be quiet! You egged her on!” Taffy raised an accusing finger at A.W., who returned the gesture with a smile and a thumbs-up.
“Pfft. No worries, dude! I’ll just, y’know, get her soul back for her and junk,” he said with much confidence.
Taffy just rolled his eyes and snorted.
“Oh,
please. It’s obviously not going to be that easy.”
Toast, whom was revitalized with energy from A.W.’s motivating comment, took the opportunity to jump in the conversation. Literally. (Taffy swore his lungs got smaller, but it could be because he was hyperventilating with disbelief.)
“
Of course it won’t, Taffy! That’s the whole point!” she said as she smiled like it was the best day of her (currently endangered) life.
And thus, the legendary battle between good, evil, and cookies (and sanity) ensued.
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A/n: DD: I took off so many parts... I can honestly say that this was my most unorganized peice yet, because the basis of it is basically a big bag of crack. HOOHAA!
Nella owns Taffy, and Madame owns A.W.
Up next: Toast and Hansel