The New Years Killer
So last night was kinda shitty. I spilled my mayonnaise all over some guy and he called me a faggot, but that's not the worst part. It was a New Years Eve party, so of course everything was getting pretty feisty as it was. I'm getting ahead of myself though, lemme start from the beginning.
Exposition is fun isn't it? That's why you read pastas, right? Don't you love exposition?
So when I was born, I came out of my mother's mouth because she was a dirty slut and only swallowed. Well, joke's on her because a womb appeared in her throat and she couldn't bullshit her way out of it anymore. Anyways, when I came out I looked like that phallic thing that came out of the dude's chest in Alien, so of course the doctor screamed "What the ''fuck''!" But he shouldn't have said that, so I jumped at him and proceeded to steal his credit card and buy little Indian children off the deep web. Oh yeah, and this doctor was Jared from Subway, so he got arrested for that years later. Did I mention I'm an alien? Alright, cool. Where the hell was I going with this? Oh yeah, the New Years Party.
Before I turn this into an Alien fanfiction, I'll just skip to after the orgy and get right to the end of 2017. That's what you came for I think, so I'll tell you about that part of my life.
Lol why did I click Heading
The end of 2017, what a time to be a homosexual alien who had a harem of traps just kinda sitting around my house all willy nilly, ready to be in any fanfiction I decide to write at that point. While I was writing one about Astolfo, my buddy Isaac Clarke called me. I was bummed out because I was already fapping to what I wrote, but I answered the phone anyway.
"Yeah?" I said, phone to my eye. I never understood eye phones, they're kinda retarded in my opinion. Phones aren't supposed to go in your eye I don't think.
"Yo what's crackin' my nigga!" said Isaac Clarke. I could hear him playing osu! in the background. "Ey so, you know how it's like, the 31st of December and shit?"
"What about it?" The moment those words came out of my mouth, he failed the stage he was on.
"FUCK!" I could hear him throwing his computer on the ground. At that moment, it turned into a Necromorph and ripped off his head before replacing it with its own. Man, technology is great.
The Necromorph picked up the phone. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
I just kinda awkwardly nodded. "So, you wanna meet me at Gordon Freeman's house to party? I haven't partied since I accidentally killed Ellen Ripley that one time. I'm still on probation for accidentally sitting on her face, I don't think I can--"
But the Necromorph wasn't having that shit. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"
"Alright, alright." I sighed. "I'll meet you there." I hung up the phone. To be completely honest with you, I had no fucking clue what the Necromorph was trying to say. I just wanted to get out of the house so Felix would stop being gay in my good Christian household.
I threw on some clothes I bought from the thrift store the other day, put on my timbs, and hit the dab before rethinking my outfit choices. It didn't matter, but I decided maybe to wait before I left. To pass some time, I decided to turn on my TV and flip the channels to Fox so I could watch the news. And you know I don't fuck with no fake news like CNN or MSNBC. Apparently there was a killer loose, at least that's what the news caption said.
"Reports say that there's a killer loose," Patrick the news anchor said. Good to see he's moving up in life, no longer under the sea and under a rock. Good on him. "Witnesses say the killer told them that his murder weapon, a barbed dildo, was 'A special tool that will help us later', before proceeding to run away to his 'clubhouse' as he dubs it. Citizens are advised to stay indoors this New Years Eve." That's when I turned off the news. Ain't no nigga gonna ruin my New Years. I ran to my fridge and took my mayonnaise and took off without locking the door. Next stop: Gordon Freeman's house.
The part of the pasta that is actually interesting
Finally at the party, I kick open the door and give a mighty "What's poppin'!" before getting greeted with a bunch of fearful or welcome shouts. I'm pretty sure someone had a heart attack and died, but nobody cared because that would be logical. You don't read pastas because they're logical, you just wanna see a skeleton jump out or hyper realistic genitalia to appear on the screen. Well, too bad. I'm high as shit and this is what you get.
Overall, the party was in pretty good condition. For being in a crack house, Gordon seemed to have paid his bills for once to allow us to be able to puke in his toilets and still flush it down. We also had lights, which was cool. The first place I decided to go was where Isaac was. Surprisingly, he was doing just fine.
"Hey, Isaac," I said, mayonnaise in hand.
"Sup, dog?" he said back, arms outspread like they do in hood movies. "Why'd you come?"
"I don't fuck with no gay shit at home. Decided to come here instead."
"Ah, I gots you. Say, ain't you homosexual?"
Shit, he got me. "Shit, you got me."
He laughed. "Naw, it's all good. We ain't friends for no reason. I ain't 'boutta leave yo ass for being gay, you know?"
That was weird, I thought that Isaac was pretty homophobic. I mean, I got that impression from how he spoke. He was a wigger through and through, and usually that entails some aspects of his character flaunting his straightness so everyone can see, and hating gays with a burning passion. There were some things about Isaac even I didn't know. "You a good man, Isaac."
"Shit, you ain't too bad yoself, Diggity Dogg."
My heart skipped a beat. No one usually used my full name like that. "Thanks, man."
"No problem." But there was a problem. After he said that, Big Nigga came by and accidentally bumped into me, spilling my mayonnaise all over his shirt.
"Fuuck, dawg," said Big. "Yo faggot ass got mayo all over my shit!"
"Hey, it was an accident," I said, keeping my composure. Big was volatile as a person. Rule 1 of being around him was to never lose your shit, or he'll lose his.
"Accident my ass. You got yo faggot juices all on my shit, and I ain't got no clothes left. Imma..." He started taking off his shirt. Bad news.
"Hey, we can settle this peacefully, can't we?" But it was too late. His shirt was off. Time to fight.
His HP was high, but mine was also high. He only had around 12 SP while I had a mighty 69. The first thing I could do was go to items and smoke a blunt. That brought my HP up to 420, when it was usually only 42. Big had the same idea, but he had a better version of my item: The Super Blunt. When he smoked it, his HP went up to 42069 and his SP up to 1337. Megalovania from Undertale started playing and we started levitating. I was so fucked.
I was the first to use an attack, so I decided that throwing Felix from Re:Zero at him was a good way to start. Felix added about 3+ gay to Big's stats, and dropped his HP by 1338. Because I'm such a retard, I subtracted one from the damage and made it 1337 instead. Ha, dead memes are funny.
But this made Big angry. He came back with his special attack: Bass Boosted Rap. It cost all of his SP, but it brought me down to 1 HP. I couldn't go on like this. I had to take a cheeseburger for health. I went to my items and selected cheeseburger. It was tasty, and restored me up to 339 HP. Big was charging an attack. Another special. His SP was rising, currently at 100.
This was my chance. I used all of my SP for my special attack: Shitty Jojo Reference. I summoned my stand: Star Platinum. I spoke some incoherent Japanese before it started to punch the shit out of Big. His HP was going down. 32102, then 29174, then 10032. It stopped when he was at 1.
Shit, if I wouldn't have subtracted 1 HP from my 1338 damage attack, he'd be dead. But now, his SP is fully charged. I quickly focused my move onto defence. The special attack was like no other. He pulled out an AK-72u and started shooting at me. My HP went down all the way to 0, and I lost. He got all the XP, selfish bastard.
We stopped levitating and Big leveled up. His physical form changed to Biggie Smalls, and so did his name. He hit the Super Blunt again and started to leave the party. It was time for him to start his rap career again, back from the dead.
"The fuck kinda shit was that?" Isaac said, completely taken aback by whatever just happened.
"You think I have a clue?" I said, just as confused. "At this point, anything could happen and I wouldn't be surprised."
"Shit, you right." Isaac put his hands in his pockets, which were well below his waist. Like I said before; wigger. "Man, you wanna hit up the bar and get fuckin' wasted?"
"You know I can't get wasted, but sure."
We headed off to the bar, which was packed with nameless people that I honestly don't feel like fleshing out right now. We had a few drinks, but Isaac was the only one getting buzzed. I'm an alien, so I don't exactly get buzzed from human alcohol. Nor do I get high from blunts, but I smoke them anyways. Moments like these reminded me of why Isaac and I are friends. He's the lightweight and I handle him when he's drunk. Although, it was funny to watch him try to function when he was drunk. For instance, he was attempting to flirt with anyone who looked virtually female, and I couldn't help but watch.
If not for his dead girlfriend causing him hallucinations, it would be funnier, but dementia is no joke. When a girl started to tease him, he suddenly got flashbacks and threw a bar stool across the room. I had to duck, because I was in the way. It would've been sad, but then he tripped over his pants, which sagged way too much at that point. He kinda deserved that.
The climax (no homo)
Our banter continued, all the way up until it was about to turn midnight. New Years Eve was like that. You stayed up way past when you should, then get hungover. How irresponsible! We were counting down the seconds until 2018.
10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2...
"One!" an anonymous voice shouted. We looked towards the front door. It was Mickey Mouse, and he had the head of Goofy hanging from a hemp rope from the ceiling. He had already locked the door, and there was no way out because this was a crack house that had no windows. In his other hand, a black barbed dildo, long enough to make Megatron call him Daddy, stained with blood on all of the barbs. "It's playtime, everyone!"
Well, fuck. This was the killer, wasn't it? He ran at us. Most of us were pussies and ran away. Now, I'm no pussy, but I ran away anyway. But Mickey was fast. He caught up to every target he wanted to kill and shoved his dildo right up whatever hole was open, killing them instantly. I was faster, mainly because I'm an alien and nobody's as fast as I am. I managed to reach the room where the drugs were made with Isaac and slammed the door shut and locked it. We barricaded it with the lab table, which had meth ingredients on it. We didn't let anybody else in because we're selfish fucks and kinda like being alive.
"Any ideas, space man?" I said teasingly to Isaac.
"Matter'a factly, I do!" he returned with, bravely. "So you know Minecraft?"
I didn't respond, but I did nod in acknowledgement.
"Punch the walls 'till they break and we can do MLG parkour the fuck outta here, Assassin's Creed style."
"I do hope you realise how retarded of an idea this is, man."
But Isaac didn't reply. He just started punching the walls. I rolled my eyes as I heard something fall behind me. It was Gordon Freeman. He had his crowbar, as he usually does.
"First of all, where the hell did you come from?" I knew he wasn't going to reply, since he was a mute. I have no clue why I even bothered in the first place. "Nevermind. We're stuck here, and Mickey is about to kill us."
As if on cue, the door flew open, the barricades broke as if they were on some shitty physics engine, and Mickey stood there, red soaked with blood. Gordon stood his ground, and I decided to try something stupid.
"What's that you have there, Mickey?" I said, motioning towards his... interesting, weapon of choice.
His head twitched. I heard a crack in his neck. He looked down at his weapon, then back at me, smiling. "It's a surprise tool that will help us later!" he exclaimed. His head twitched multiple times. "Uh oh! I've gotta get back to the c-CLUB... house!" He sprinted out of the house, seemingly like he was being controlled to do so.
I have no clue how it worked, but I was pretty happy it did. I guess watching the news does pay off sometimes.
Shit I put here afterwards so the ending isn't lame
As it turns out, only Biggie Smalls, Gordon, Isaac, and I survived that massacre at the party. Mickey was later arrested and put into an insane asylum due to his mental state. Turns out, he was going crazy because Disney was paying more attention to the studios they bought than to him. He couldn't take it, and went on a killing spree. I have no explanation for the reason he used a barbed dildo, so use your imagination.
At the end of the day, the important people survived, and the New Years Killer is on the road to recovery. Maybe Disney will learn from this, maybe not. I mean, they bought out 21st Century Fox, so probably not. Let it be, I suppose.