This is aka Snake Eyeeeeeeees!!!!!! Mitternacht and myself lost our minds a few days ago. Eh, it’s not like we needed ‘em. Anyway, I’m bringing my special brand of insanity to this group, starting in:

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Chapter 1: Dusty and Shiny, Slimy and Grimy

Sitting upon his throne… err… toilet was Ashion, a fairly young idiot. Reading a cooking magazine with his pink underwear down, he tried to ignore his explosive diarrhea and the natural perfume his anus released. Coming across his favorite food, he thought, ahh, sweet lard grool. Oh how I love thee. Despite the fact that you clog my arteries, the fact remains that I still love thee!

Now, outside his tiny little home was a tiny little girl. Some would say the young lady is the height of a giant’s toe, while others would say the size of tall pot of chicken grease. Chicken grease is, of course, the liquid form of the bird’s yummy skin. Chickens are amazing, and so is this little bird of a girl.

Today was her first day as mail delivery woman. She was hired on the spot, since her résumé showed that she was once an extraordinary cookie saleswoman. She had experience going from door to door, annoying old fellers and ladies until she achieved her goal of extracting funds from their wallets, in exchange for the inedible, solid, food-like substances known as… cookies. She was the perfect candidate for the mail lady position.

Squawk, says the birdie birdie. Squawk!

With a single envelope in hand, this young lady banged on the yucky, moldy door ahead of her. One knock… two knocks… three knocks… four. Her little fist knocked down the door! It fell backwards to the floor! It only took one knock… two knocks… three knocks… four.

“Oopsie,” she squeaked. It wasn’t a squawk at all, but we’ll take it. She’d fought of many cookie monsters in her day, so her little fists were lethal weapons that we well used when she need to collect money from those who wanted to chew her snacks for free. Sighing, the mail girl – who shall remain nameless for some unknown reason -- knew she needed to control her kaboomie fist power.

As a cloud of dust rose from the unclean thing on the floor – perhaps it was a carpet, but who knows – the mail girl slowly made her way into the dark residence. The sunrays behind her were the only source light she had. Looking around she saw a nice, large, shiny treasure chest. It was purple, gold, and many other unmentionable girly colors.

It’s so girly. Oh, so girly. La-da-dee, dee-da, dee-da.

But, that’s beside the point. Seeing the glittering box, she felt compelled to open it. Maybe the bird had a little cat in her, which would explain how mesmerized she was by the shiny object. She blandly muttered, “Must… open… thingy.”

It became even worse when the magic chest started glowing. Had there been something in the empty living room to look at – like maybe a freakin’ couch or something? I’m mean, gawd – then the mail girl might’ve had the strength, no, the super duper power to resist the light. Long story short, she opened it and found the big, almighty, not-so-hidden treasure.

A perfectly dusty pile of dirt.

That snapped her out of the trance with the quickness of a turtle rolling down an icy mountain. Hearing a grunting sound, she whipped her head to the right. Crouching low and creeping slowly, she walked towards the sound. Putting her back to the wall, its white wallpaper torn in some places, revealing the pee-pee yellow paint beneath.

Sliding along the wall like a stealthy soldier with infrared goggles – which may or may not exist in this timeline – the mail deliverer went to the end of the wall, then turned the corner and made her way down a hallway. The moaning grew louder as she moved, closed doors to her left and right as she went. Hearing the groaning grow louder as the girl neared the last door at the end of the hall, she moved swiftly towards the sound.

“Ahhhhh!” screamed Ashion as he released a long, steady stream of liquid poop, over straining muscles in his rear that I honestly don’t know the name of. He balled up his magazine, clutching it tightly with both hands. Then something not so good happened. Something that made him a teeny bit unhappy.

“Freeze!” screamed the little girl as she booted the door with a kaboomie kick, sending it flying of its hinges, into the shower, and through the wall. “Mail delivery! Don’t move, don’t move! Put your hands where I can see them, nooooooooow!”

The magazine slowly fell through the air, as if time had slowed down. Then it finally hit the cracked floor tiles with a thud. Ashion moved one hand to cover his no longer private privates; the other went out to the left, his palm facing her. “I-I-don’t have anymore money! Some blonde, spiky haired hero just strolled in with his big ass sword and took it from my treasure chest!”

“Okey dokey,” she replied, thrusting her lone envelope into Ashion’s free hand. “Here’s your mail.” After his trembling fingers closed around the item, she waved to him. “Bye bye, mister. Sorry ‘bout the doors.”

“Doors? I thought it was only one—“

Giggling, the little girl told him, “The front door kinda was in the way. I moved it though.” Then, as if she didn’t just destroy parts of his home, she skipped away, leaving Ashion alone.

Looking off to his right, at the hole in the wall, he saw yet another odd sight. An old lady was peeping at him, giving him a toothless grin. Ugh, he thought. Even old people are pervs these days.

VvVvV

And now for a word from our sponsors.

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VvVvV

“Noooo money, no life!” sang Ashion, who’d exited the bathroom, oddly having skipped the hand washing phase. “I saaaaaay… noooo money, no life!”

Sitting on the lid of the now closed treasure chest, this balding teenager opened the envelope, removing the note within. It read:

Dear Ashion,

This is your buddy Jimbo. Could you do me a favor? Please bring your sorry ass down here and… PAY ME MY MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks in advance for not making me kill you,

Jimmy the Hammer

A look of unhappiness crossed Ashion, nearly rising to his receding hairline. He couldn’t even afford a toupee or a fresh pair of underwear, let alone the gazillion (or something near it) gold he owed his best friend. His lone pair of pants were missing a leg, but could he afford a needle and thread? Nooooooo! Things were looking bad, since Jimbo might literally drop a hammer on his head. That could hurt.

Ashion needed money, but the only thing he was good at was fighting villians… who no longer existed. Everyone had that blonde, thieving hero to blame for that. Feeling slightly irritated, he began thinking. What kind of an asshole goes and saves the world completely, anyway? Does that nutjob realize he put millions of heroes out of business?! Then he had what could’ve been his first and last intelligent thought. Hey, there’s still and adventurer’s guild open! But where is it?

Rushing towards the front exit, filled with purpose and excitement, he somehow managed to ignore the door on the floor. Isn’t motivation special? Once outside, he saw dozens of people moving along the dirt road. The sun shined everywhere… except on him. Nothing but darkness was cast upon the balding boy. It was like a spotlight, only… well, without the light part, I guess.

Across the street was a building that looked either really old, or just plain haunted. The rundown place had a sign in front, but Ashion didn’t waste his time reading it. Stopping the closest person he could find – which happened to be a big, blue, furry person with cookie crumbs all over his fuzzy mouth – Ashion asked, “Where’s the closest adventurer’s guild?”

The man, whose eyes rolled around like a ball, replied, “Ghfmls, mahnaheudnuiderjkmim, ygkk fuiooikpdkpvopigkpl. Guhg shuif?”

Looking at the crappy building across the street, Ashion questioned, “So that’s… ‘go across the street, then go to that trash heap of a building,’ right?”

“Numnumnum,” he replied, eating another cookie. Then, seeing a little girl in dress clothes running at him, he whined, “It’s a cookie girl! I don’t have her money! What do I do-hoo-hoooo?!” Not waiting for an answer, he sprinted away, his furry feet carrying him away swiftly.

Heading across the street, Ashion heard something odd. A horseless carriage came barreling down the road, smacking into people as it swerved left and right, as it the driver had sipped a bit too much…

…Coca Cocaine. Ahh, Coca Cocaine: the preferred drink of drivers wishing death upon their passengers and the unlucky pedestrians in their way—

We apologize for the unscheduled interruption.

Dante, the spoon-bender himself, needed something to survive Princess Ie’s ranting. With a porno magazine in one hand and a nice drink in the other, he drove them towards the adventurer’s guild, steering with his feet. He heard a loud bumping sound, but found himself incapable of looking away from the pages held in his face.

“Watch who you’re hitting!” screamed Ie, unhappy with her driver’s performance.

Tossing the magazine back at her, nearly hitting the princess, Dante said, “Don’t you come with a royal mute button or something?” Looking ahead, he saw a balding teenager in his path.

Ashion was a bit saddened by the fact that the carriage touched him in an unkind way. It kinda slammed into him, knocking him high into the air. The world around him windmilled and pinwheeled as he spun and flipped in the sky. Wow, he thought. What a beautiful view. Looking down on his tiny home’s roof, he saw something pretty. Oh, a gold coin! It’s my lucky day! It’s my lucky—

Then Ashion went splat on the ground and blacked out. In the darkness of his mind he saw one word flash in front of him:

Dead

Then he saw the words:

End? Or continue from your last save point?

“Umm… continue,” Ashion said. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

9 continues remain

When the pink underwear-wearing boy opened his eyes, he was sitting on the toilet with his magazine in hand. Then came that crazy little girl kicking his bathroom down, screaming at him. Instead of describing this again, we’ll go to something else for a while.

VvVvV

And now for a word from yet another sponsor. If I weren’t broke, I really wouldn’t give these jackasses the time of day—

Whoa nelly! This is Jimmy Bean, offering theeeee tast-i-est chicken/pork sausage you’ve never seen! Those pigs have been flipped, whipped, and dipped in the highest quality chicken grease on the market—

I’m sorry, papa. I’ve sold out to these bastards. I can’t believe I’m giving airtime to these yuck mouthed, mush brained, sons of bitc—

VvVvV

Ashion made his way over to the guild, standing at the front desk in the lobby. The big room was empty for the most part. Only an itty-bitty roach was there, crawling by his boot.

“Get outta my way,” the bug boomed, lifting the scrawny teen in the air and throwing him out the front door.

Stumbling back into the lobby, noticing the holes in the rainbow-colored, wooden walls, Ashion saw a skeleton was now sitting at the wooden desk ahead of him. It hadn’t been there before. Spider webs were in its mouth, which probably meant it hadn’t spoken for a while. There was a small silver bell on the table. Tapping down on it, instead of a ping or ding, Ashion heard a voice sing from the bell:

“Someone, someone’s at the desk! Get your booty to the desk!” then the tempo slowed down. “Oh, how I’d love to see your boo-ty at this dessssk. Oh, I’d love to see your—“ Then an elderly woman appeared from a back room. Obviously, her teeth didn’t make the trip, because she didn’t have a single chomper in her food stasher. It was the woman who’d watched Ashion when he was on the toilet.

She was the poop peeper.

“Umm… I’m looking for work and stuff,” Ashion said nervously. “Got any missions I can do?”

The elderly woman opened a drawer and pulled out a packet, hundreds of pages thick. Handing it to him, she said, “Read this and answer the questions.” Pointing to a row of chairs along the right wall, she told him, “You can have a seat over there.”

While Ashion read the documents, Dante and the Princess were in her freshly acquired office upstairs. Sitting in a corner, the bodyguard looked lifeless. Unfortunately, Ie had enough life for the both of them.

“Urrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh!” she growled, her voice taking a more manly tone then it ever should’ve. “I can’t stand this place!’

“If the walls had a voice, I’m sure they’d tell you the feeling’s mutual,” stated Dante dryly, his eyes closed.

“Quiet, before I spork you to death!”

Snoring loudly, Dante fell asleep for a moment. He didn’t see what happened next, but he felt it.

Footstomp Toecrusher, 300 hp down the drain… again.

The bad over the princess’ head filled completely with orange. A fiery red aura formed around her feet. Her overdrive had reached its capacity, and she was ready to blow.

VvVvV

Screw this! I won’ttolerate these pathetic attempts at advertisement…. Oh, I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t mean it. Wait, no, don’t! I won’t do it again, I promise!

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

VvVvV

Having finished reading and signing the papers, Ashion took it back up to the toothless wonder. “All done! Now what’s the first mission?”

The aged woman took the packet and shoved it into the drawer without even glancing at it. “Go upstairs and see the boss lady. Fifth floor, second door on the right.”

Heading up the creaky stairs, Ashion made his way to Ie’s office. Dante was still on the floor, shaking his injured foot. The princess had an evil look in her eye, the aura still flickering around her feet. The balding boy slowly strolled into the room, trying to appear confident.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Princess Ie asked, turning to him.

“I’m Ashion,” he told her. “I’m a hero looking for a great and incredible mission.”

“Great and incredible, all in one?” Dante questioned from the floor. “Don’t aim too high now baldy.”

Thinking for a moment, the annoying princess stood in place, tapping her foot. She made her decision. “Wait down stairs. I’ll send someone with the mission info.”

Getting to his feet, Dante noticed something odd about Ashion’s attire; his pink underwear was visible on one side, due to the missing pants leg. “Send him into those bushes with the thorns or something. That’d be great and incredible… to watch, at least.”

“Oh, go bend a spoon or something!” she screamed, ready and willing to use her overdrive technique on the bodyguard.

“Not gonna happen. All I have are sporks.”

Quietly, Ashion exited the room. He’d already died one that day, and Ie looked ready to murder someone. He headed back down stairs to the lobby and sat in one of the always free chairs, where he waited for at least an hour. Then a tall, heavyset man with a gray mop bucket on his head walked over to him, a mop in his hands.

Mop man then said, “My name’s You. You’re Ashion, right? The one looking for work?”

Rising to his feet, Ashion responded, “That’s me!”

“Then come with me. We’re headed to the forest at the edge of town.”

“What’s the mission?” the teen asked, heading towards the door with the middle-aged man.

Smiling, his yellow teeth shining in the sun as they steeped outside, mop man said, “We’re gonna snatch the hair from the armpit of a Moober.”

VvVvV

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VvVvV

End

Author’s Note: This is Snake Eyes, here. I think I just rose the insanity level of this story up a few notches. So, anybody catch themini story here? If not, read it again. It’s there.

To all readers: HA! I GOT YOU TO READ THIS CRAP!

Nah, just kidding. Thanks for supporting aka Meteor-Infinity. If you feel like reviewing, go for it. If you don’t’… just do me a favor and reconsider (as many times as you need to). Feel free to send in character ideas, or just your thoughts and opinions.

New characters and whatnot.

Ashion: He is simply the man… err… boy. He’s also the intelligent idiot who’s destined to do absolutely nothing. Is the first balding teenager the manga section here has ever seen. (Aren’t I creative?)

Mail Delivery Girl: Super strong from fighting cookie monsters and – in her infant years – defeating booger men. She is somewhere between 5 and 10 years old… I think.

You aka Mop Man (not a member of eh-kay-eh Meatier Extremity): Likes to hit stuff with mops. Is a well known adventurer… and a bumbling dumb dumb (why use eloquent words when kiddie talk is just as good?).

Poop Peeper Woman: I have nothing. No description, no history, no nothing. Hell, I didn’t even have a reason for putting her in the story….

Except, of course, that I aim to entertain.

I hope I accomplished that.

Now who’s the craziest writer around?

Snake Eyes

of

aka Meteor-Infinity