Ketchup is Thiccer Than Water: Ethan X Benjamin Ketchup

"One"

I open my eyes. As they adjust to the light, I'm relieved to find myself in my own bedroom.

Ketchup.

The stench wafts through my nose. I sit up. I breathe in deep.

God.

I FUCKIN love that smell.

The delectable goo is all over my thighs, caked onto my leg hair to make a tantalising cocktail. Like guesspacho on a rainy sunny sunday. I lean over to inspect my feet. Dried ketchup is congealed in between each toe, and under each toenail. The hair of my feet stained blood red.

Benjamin. Lover in the night but always gone by morning.

Benjamin. I can still feel the coolness of his glass beneath my fingers. How i long to unscrew that top just one more time. But i cant dream about my jeanie in a bottle forever, i have work to do.

I look at the clock. It's 11 am. Not nearly enough time to shower, but just enough for a quick rinse to cleanse myself of the copious fornicating from the occurrences that occurred the previous night. I strut over to the kitchen sink and raise my leg under the faucet. I grab my razor and my dish soap and begin the shaving process. I contemplate spreading my asscheeks and letting the water flow through, but i decide against it. Skid marks add character, and Benjamin LOVES character. I throw on my walmart gear, including my vest, cackee shorts, and pistol holster. Cant forget my patent leather flats. I grab my keys, dangling loudly at my side as i enter my dodge ram with red rims that i rigged to run on diesel, ONLY. Straight coal. I make my way to the walmart and park in the emplyees only lot. Tim to begin greeting.

Just kidding. But not really.

This is all a facade for my true passion, assassination. I'm supposed to wait here and greet people until someone tells me the code word: unus. Its not long before a man of short stature with flowing black hair introduces himslef as Mark. His deep brown orbs focus themselves unto mine as he mutters the word "unus" under his breath.

(AUTHORS NOTE: in this universe, mark is canonically 4'10".)

He hands me a thiccc manilla folder with papers spilling at the edges. The little tab at the top (sorry idk if it has a name) read "NOT MURDER" etched in pirple crayon.

(AUTHOES NOTE: mark can canonically only write with crayons.)

I motioned to my boss that i am going to take my leagally required 15 minute lunch break, and i follow closely behind Mark into the gender neutral bathrrom. It's time to do my real work.

(AUTHORS NOTE: theres a reallt cool spider sittinf next to us right now. We decided to name him doyle.)

(AURHORS NOTE: told you so)