The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Murder/Funeral/Wedding Trifecta ~ Part 2

"is this a library? deadass? you caping, right? this shit empty, fr fr. i ain't vibin' with it, no cap. unlike wattpad, that has millions of stories ready to be- ouchie!"

"You don't get paid to evangelize an app people are already in!" I tell Brayden, the little fool, the stupid little man boy, as I twist a lock of his hair from the back of his neck. "Now, tell me, what the hell happened here?"

"harder," is all he whispers. I know we don't kinkshame around here, but, damn.

Hayden pulls us apart in a second, but not before I take out a chunk of Brayden's hair. I don't know why, but it's causing me allergies. Kid has more chemicals in his hair than an oil refinery.

"Don't get horny with my man," says Hayden in a strong, deep voice. Is he... is he jealous? Cutie. I'll make a mental note of pulling his hair later. If he has enough hair to pull. He's pretty clean-shaven. Maybe if I use a plunger...

"relax, baby. daddy ain't a home-wrecker," says Brayden. "you fill-up your twinky, you eat it."

"Can we not talk about me getting filled?" I interject before Hayden's head explodes from embarrassment. He's beet red already and ready to blow. But it might be first-degree burns. Either/or.

"Right, right," says Hayden, taking a new shade of red from before. "Just for the record, I haven't filled any twinky. Not yet, at least. Maybe later after a nice dinner and an amuse bouche and-"

"Babe, stop."

"I'll shut up now," says Hayden.

I would normally say something about pregnant silences and some witty banter, that would be ignoring the elephant in the room. Or rather, the lack of a room for said elephant. It's like staring at the phone of somebody who only uses light-mode: headache-inducing, and mostly psychotic. Possibly runs a Gravity Falls Tumblr.

Brayden takes a new pog out of his pocket—A holographic Pikachu, series one, back when it was fat and loved it—and throws it at the empty whitee void. The pog immediately fizzes out like an alkaseltzer on a divorced dad's morning whiskey, until there is nothing left.

"whoa, poggers," says Brayden in awe. "wonder what happens when i put something else in there."

"Don't try to put your dick in it," I say. "As a general rule, don't try to put your dick into anything you don't understand."

"i'm not gonna put my dick in the white void... anymore," whispers Brayden. "but, a white void that can swallow everything and leave nothing behind is promising. think all the things i could do with it!"

"Buying a bunch of common Funko Pops, then destroying all of them but a handful and artificially inflating their price?" I ask.

"Erasing evidence of heinous crimes?" asks Hayden.

"Reverse-engineering the void as a means of creating clean energy, and thus phasing out the dependency of fossil fuels that is slowly poisoning the Earth?" ask Harry.

Brayden snaps two fingers, followed by very awkward finger-guns. "wrong. how about waste-disposal?"

"That's... surprisingly normal for you," I say. "What's the catch?"

"no catch," says Brayden, scratching his chin, as if a single hair could ever grow on that smooth, baby-ass-like skin. "just a simple, normal waste disposal service. seems like a normal, easy way to have a legit business and branch away from daddy's shadow. you know, become independent."

"Well, that sounds like a good, clean, if weird business to run, brother."

"thank you, just thought of it in the last few paragraphs or so. just think how many turtles we are gonna save by destroying plastics in this bad boy."