Pat was limping to the trash can with a handfull of glass shards that was once placed around his room as mines. His poor foot was helplessly dying of blood loss, because Pat had a dedication to not cure it until he finishes the obligation of defeating every glass enemy crawling around the tiles waiting to attack.
After he finished cleaning the very pricey wine glass pieces, he sat back on the couch with a bandage to stick it on his foot that has been stabbed with glass pieces like Gulliver steping on spears in Liliput Island.
From afar, however, the wine glass throwin lady looked at Pat with a pleased look, because now Pat was basically her servent. Spoiled bitch, she was indeed, but we cant't judge her. She's rich so in this society we would probably envy and praise her admiring amount of wealth and shit.
Pat was exhausted at this point, although all he did was step on glass and clean it up, and was now achieving the dream of dying out of exhaustion on his couch. He felt like he was melting but not like in a bad way, a good way, like pleasently going from body into fluid flesh(okay that sounded cursed)
But the world didn't like Pat for some damn reason and decided it would be best to give Pat some more accompany from dead people because WHY THE FUCK NOT? The more the merrier, shouted Pat's parents from across his room when he was little. And since Pat never had friends and didn't listen, this is a good news to his parents. Or maybe not.
... probably not when it's dead people roaming around the house.
(MEANWHILE FOR THE GHOSTS)
Calista the savage bitch ghost who had turned Pat's Glass of Inflation into deformed ass shit pieces was having a great time in the walls just existing. She looked around the house amazed by how petrified it looked, for when she lived there it was cleaner than it could've possibly been.
"This is disgusting," laughed Calista as she looked down at the floors. She wondered if burning down the house would at least make the dust disappear. But since she was pretty nice and understanding she shut her thoughts up and kept living her life.
Calista thought if she kepot scattering glass everywhere, then maybe Pat would start cleaning stuff up, but decided to quite after realizing Pat doesn't have much cups and if she destroyes all of them, Pat would have to drink water with his hands like a dumbass. She doesn't like unsanitary dumbasses.
Across from her there was..........
*drumroll*
WOAH EVEN MORE DEAD SHIT!!11!1!!!!!11
Echo was having the best time of their life playing on their gameboy across from Calista. They're the cause of all the banging noises during night that Pat thinks is his neighbors having a shitty ass tantrum because Pat is a menace, psychologically. Echo's raging has the ability to make the house sound like neighbors tantrum-ing, or whatever that's called. Don't ask me.
(BACK TO PAT THE LOSER)
Pat has dissolved into his couch and was just finally getting some rest. Fatigue would probably be the cause of his death now. I personally thought it was going to be food poisoning or falling off the stair because he sucks at identifying stair steps or stuff, but now that he has friends and he's an antisocial idiot, it kinda makes sense that Pat is going to die because he's tired as fuck.
He let out a sigh so long that it felt like a decade. Don't ask if it's out of relief or stress. I'm not good with emotions unless it's directly spoken to my face.
However, despite his very depserate efforts to ignore it, there was a lingering fear of the question ringing in his head, a skepticism that if he died he'd be a part of the dead soul, the soul that in a way was the cause of his death by throwing the damn wine glass which SYMBOLIZED INFLATION!11!!!!!1!1!!!!1 Just emphasizing in case you, my audience, didn't know.
Who am I kidding I just wanted to caps lock.
Anyways the thought shook him and he hoped that when he died he wouldn't die in his house. But for now, he shall surrender to his bugging tiredness compressing him further into his couch, drowning in his couch hoping there wouldn't be a micro size glass shard ready to attack like a mischevious little Liliput soldier.
Oh wait too bad out of all possibilities the Liliput soldier was successful.
"FUCKING SHIT THE FUCKING GLASS JESUS MARY AND JOS—" was the words of a surprised Pat.
What's better to get a lazy ass person out of their couch though, am I wrong? Hence Pat had to get pulled out of his couch and pick up the liliput trap to throw it back in the trash can. But the pain was pulling on his feet, mainly because it made him feel like shit, so he decided, why not look for the ghost that caused this so he can roast her?
What a splendid idea! He thought to himself, and he stayed quiet as dead mouth to see if there would be any remaining noises from the paranormal souls. A peaceful days for the neighbors, that's for sure.
And below him from the basement floor, there was another raging sound(you all know who it is). Pat followed the noise to the basement floor.
That was a grand mistake because he now realized it wasn't just a ghost, it was ghostS.
Hello guys this is the author of this monstrosity so uhm I'm in a situation where I can't write much I'm sorry y'all I'll try to write as much but it'll be slow from now on love you all baiiiiiii
