One hundred twenty shrines, nine hundred Korok seeds, four Divine Beasts, and many nights spent running away from Stalchildren instead of sleeping, and Link still found himself getting pummeled by Calamity Ganon.
But dear reader, this is unfortunately not a wholesome story. What you are about to read observes death as a cold-hearted “fuck your parents, fuck your friends, fuck everybody” truth. Are you ready? Alright then, well fuck your parents and fuck your friends, let’s-a-go!
Ron was man of principle: he liked grease. He liked grease whether he could put it. Falling into his mouth, sliding around in his tummy, dripping down his hands, and in his most private moments, hanging onto him behind the ears.
“Three little maids from school are we, Pert as a school-girl well can be!” Mrs. Dogbutt sang as she sauntered down Gazelle Stampede Avenue, pitching her voice like a southern belle. Wrapped up in her silk gown with only one shoulder, high on her heels, and a floppy hat shielding her from the vicious sun, the tiny cat skipped about, scoffing at the poor animals living on the street.
“Mother,” I said breathlessly. She didn’t react. Like a statue. Mother had always been like a statue to me. “Old wench,” I said in a steely voice. Mother’s head turned ever so slightly towards me. I flinched at this, a pain shooting through my heart, for I did not want to use the name so many others used for my mother. But it was all she knew now.
"Hey, dude, can you not smoke that around me?” Grondar the Wretched said after waiting two long minutes of cigarette smoke wafting pass his big dumb face. “Why?” Carl said, trying to play these unfortunate circumstances off with a shrug; he had been waiting for Grondar to confront him about this the whole time.
“Do you need me to ask you again, son?” Ron nodded, his facial expression frozen in one of shock. “Okay,” the Business man sighed, kneeling down to Ron’s level and resting his elbows on a desk, hands pushing against his cheeks. “Do you want to be the CEO of Bueno Nacho?”
The fatigued Vice Principal and the serene Cyclops laid at the peak of a grassy hill together. (It’s a long story, don’t ask.)