Warning: death by gluten overdose. Reader discretion advised.
It's been three days since the incident Barnaby had. I decided to drop out of STH Academy just to make sure he's okay. And in the process, I accidentally became an assistant for him. I would become a ghost owl by my shapeshifting to take care of any deaths that Barnaby himself wouldn't perform.
After one successful party, I decided to check Barnaby's Wattpad account since he doesn't seem to be doing better. I found these sent to him. I felt rightfully pissed.
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Turns out Emmy the Uneducated Oxford Wannabe wouldn't leave him or his Barnaboos alone. And what the fuck is a Wifflemaker? I sigh and read more.
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The first thing I thought was, Wait. This is the afterlife. This is Barnaby's own pocket dimension. So technically he won't have any sort of... Wait. This is plain bias. I sigh. I shrink his search tab, angry.
Then I started baking bread... Lots of bread. Enough to kill anyone who ate too much. I took all of my frustrations out on the dough, kneading it and punching it. I pretend it was that British American mortal's face. I didn't hear Barnaby enter.
As I kneaded, snarling, I felt a gigantic shadow behind me. I turn around, in full ghost owl mode, glaring. I relaxed as I noticed it was Barnaby. His orange eyes were dull from exhaustion. I sigh, then I stopped kneading. "You alright, Barns?" I ask.
Barnaby was unnaturally quiet. He stared at me with glowing orange eyes brimming with tears. "How do you deal with that disgusting mortal?" He asked, his fruity voice flat.
It clicked: Barnaby doesn't know how to block people. I place my bread dough in the oven and replied happily, "Oh, I am super happy you asked! Follow me, my undead friend! I'm going to show you the best thing since... Uh... The invention of parties!" I really could not think of something that would be fitting for Barnaby. I pull him to his laptop and I gave a very detailed step by step instruction on how to block someone. "First, you use the arrow to click on three buttons. Then," I explained, pointing to his screen. I use Emma's new account as a fun demonstration. "You will see a menu with options. One option is "block". Click on that, and you automatically become more powerful in magic than ever because a good percentage of your problems will..." I whisper the last part, "Disappear."
The grin on that ghost owl was definitely one I cherish. I even wrote the steps down in case he forgot. He hugged me tightly. "You are a magician, Ali!" He hooted. His mood improved a lot.
~~~~~
After the bread was done baking, we start settling in. Dinner is breads I baked. We were both about to eat when we heard a snobby British voice sneer, "Americans are stupid. Enjoy your next-!" I didn't give her a chance to finish. I start stuffing Emma's face with my bread, ultimately getting her to shut up.
"What's that? I can't hear you over the sound of someone eating." Barnaby hooted, stuffing Emma with more bread.
Emma tried to protest but I chimed in, "It's uncivilized to talk with your mouth full, Warren. You should know this better than anyone here. And you got a lot of implicit bias." We keep stuffing her, getting aggressive. Soon enough, she ate way too much bread. Her body began to shut down. "Looks like your disgusting and unhealthy lifestyle is catching up to you." I cackle.
Emma was now dead, stuffed with bread. I look at Barnaby, shaking my head with a grin. Barnaby replied, sliding in a bread pun, "She didn't have enough dough to rise." I cackled, knowing that Barnaby just insulted her lack of intelligence and money.
The Barnaboos ate well, thankfully. They told me that the meat was rich but too sweet. I smelled the meat. Then I took the meat and threw it away. "That meat spoiled." I grumble, my face shifting into a cartoonish look of disgust.
Barnaby cleared his throat and gazed at me. "Next time, I'm going to use an acid water gun." He stated. His black feathers puffed in comedic pride and I knew that I got Barnaby feeling much more confident.
He clings to the ceiling, giggling. "Doesn't matter what you look like. We all end up dead!" He cackled.
"Agreed. Might as well enjoy our time while we still got it." I replied. I snuggle on the couch. "Too bad Emmy Warren didn't learn that." I chuckled. Then we both fell asleep in separate parts of the manor.
No thanks whatsoever goes to Wepersevere for basically being a biased, uneducated mortal. In case you can't tell, I use these "no thanks whatsoever" to warn people about bad people while also writing a very creative and fun story. And I noticed that a good portion of the fandom Barnaby came from doesn't really let his insanity shine. But I intend on changing that. C'mon, we all love ourselves a good insane character, amirite? And thank you for reading this book. It means a lot.So if you see any users with the words, "no thanks whatsoever goes to..." In this book, that is me saying block, report and DO NOT INTERACT. So don't go after those who are being jerks. That's quite literally rule one of the Internet.
