Mama Mia! (an existential Mario fanfiction)

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!

Mrs. Dogbutt or How to Make Wild Assumptions About Green Tea Lattes That Put You in a Bad Spot in Life

“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.

The Old Wench and the President

“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.

The Evilest Guy Around

"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.

Rono Nacho (a Kim Possible fanfic)

“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?”

Mob Boss’ Day Out

A few minutes ago, he had felt like he had just entered grandma’s garden to pick out some succulent food for the week while he worked from home. Now it felt just like any other grocery store, the food around him wasn’t exactly a choice; it was a necessity of his survival.

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