(I live bitches)
(Ok, so I know I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for like... 3 years, but I'm back!!!)
(In this chapter, we're going to explore my various senses of humor, so get ready for some fucked up shit, and if you are offended by crude humor and shit like that, you have been warned. ALSO WARNING: I'm not that funny anymore, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing)
(Also, also; sorry if (Y/n) doesn't seem the same as she was in past chapters)
Ah, this brought you back to the old days... where you would purposely or accidentally get caught by the enemy.... mostly accidentally, but we're not here to talk about that shit. Right now you were tied tightly to a chair in the middle of a sex dungeon, and from how tightly the knots were, someone has been at this for a long time... if you catch my drift ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).
But just as you were about to make another sexually inappropriate joke that would most likely not even make the readers laugh, the Barney reject decided to interrupt by walking her ugly ass into the picture.
"So, you're the one who has been keeping the Trolls from us? You're definitely not...uh..who I was expecting, from what they spoke of you when we first caught them."
"Same here, I wasn't expecting to be compared to some washed up, circus reject like you lot, but hey, we all don't get what we want, do w-!"
You were cut off by a slap to the face, leaving you in shock.
And I've got to say, you were a little shook, or better yet, you were shooketh.
"Damn bitch, can't take the truth I see. I'm not a masochist, but damn, you've got a better swing then what my mother used to do to me."
Another slap.
"Fuc-!"
Another slap.
"Bi-!"
Slap.
"GOD DA-!"
Punch.
"Wait!"
She paused for a second, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as blood and saliva ran down your beaten up face, making you look a lot like Quasimodo, just without the gypsy love life, and instead, stuck with the Phantom of the Opera reject that was just to ugly to play the Phantom, and if she did, Christine would have yeeted herself the fuck out of there without her Angel of Music.... yeah.... because all of that made sense....
But anyways, you took a deep breath before. "Can't you slap me on the ass instead?" You asked, raising a suggesting eyebrow. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
In result, Shriveled Prune punched you even harder then all the others, causing your nose to completely shatter on impact, also causing a butterfly effect, that caused you to curse like a sailor's bitch.
"hOLY FUCKIN' BITCH TITS- IMA BITE THEM DAMN HANDS OFF YOUR PRUNEY SELF! MY FUCKIN' NOSE! FUCK! YOU GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS ONCE IM OUT- OH FUCK ITS IN MY MOUTH!" You cursed, spitting blood out on the ugly prune's white cook uniform (heh, I almost spelt cock-).
Pretty sure your ancestors are rolling hard in their graves right about now.
Blood trickled down your chin as you grinned up at the chef, who looked disgusted by you, which is a pretty normal when anyone sees your gremlin ass.
You're also pretty sure you looked like a god damn psychopath with how your grinning... you need to learn how to stop doing that-
... The prune looks like she wants to beat your ass.
Probably cause you spit blood on her white uniform... that shit doesn't come out- but then again, there's a lot of green and brown shit stains on that uniform, so why the fuck is she mad at you- not like someone's gonna look at her ugly ass and go; "Oh shit, don't think I don't see that red spot right there, ratchet ass hoe, get your dirty ass outta here!" And completely ignore all the other nasty ass stains on there.
... Wait, I think the chef is talking to you- oops.
"Wah- hold on, I wasn't listening." You blurted, taking joy in the irritation on this rude raisin's face.
The chef sighed in annoyance, which brought you joy. "I asked, why do you try to help the trolls? When you can feel true happiness by eating them?"
"What are you talking about? Why would I want to eat a Troll? Bro, that's fucking disgusting! You're fucking disgusting!" You spat, now realizing Bergen's are kinda fucked up- I mean, you realized that when they were putting Gorillaz to shame, but you were kind enough to let that slide with a few punches to the face... ok, maybe it was more then a few, but it was self defense... mostly-
"So you've never eaten a Troll?! Well, we'll just have to change that, then you'll understand." The prune grinned crazily at you. The kind of grin that makes you wonder where the fuck the police are when you need them. You leaned back in your seat when she laughed like a god damn lunatic. "I'll make you feel true happiness! Just like everyone in this town!"
So, like drugs?
... ok, low key creeped out, like, it's a different kind of creeped out from what you get from that creepy little fucker Creek, but it's the kind that makes you wanna make sure you never meet that person in an alleyway alone.
This poor raisin must of gotten ahold of some bad dope. Maybe that's what happened to all of these sad fuckers, they all passed around some bad shit and fucked up everyone...
'Where's my Sherlock Holmes title?! I'm back to being a detective!'
"You'll understand once you taste one! You'll feel true happiness just like all the others tonight! I'll come get you once the feast is ready!" The chef exclaimed, already walking away.
"Oh shit, what?"
But the chef raisin was already gone... and you were left alone...
"Dumbass." You crackled, already preparing yourself for an absolute bitch pain that you're about to feel.
You began to hum as you grabbed your thumb with your other hand. "Ima little tea-pot, short and spout," you sucked in a deep breath...
Before you violently jerked your hand and dislocated your thumb.
"hERE'S MY FUCKIN' HANDLE AND MY FUCKIN' FUCK!-" You cursed like a sailor, wiggling the hand with the dislocated thumb out of the tight rope, successfully freeing one hand. "If you tip me over," you continued to sing, squeezing the dislocated thumb between your knees... and popped it back into place with a jerk of your hand. "i'LL KNOCK YOU THE FUCK OUT!"
Once you were free from the ropes and out of the chair, you made your way to the door, and surprise-surprise, these dumb fuckers left it unlocked, and when you peeked out, there were no guards...
..... hey, you still have vegetables in your pockets... you almost forgot about those.
_______________
You munched on some carrots covered in your pocket lint as you made your way down the hall, looking for any signs of that non-smokable pot that the non-colorful skittles were in, or that saggy-tiddied raisin that broke your nose- or anything really.
WHERE THE FUCK IS EVERYONE?!
Unluckily for you, as you turned down a hallway, you missed the little Bergen maid girl running down the hallway you were just in, pushing the very pot you were looking for, towards the exit.
... probably for the best though, you would have tried to reclaim your title as an egg and punched her in the face and ran off with the pot.
But for now, you're lost as fuck, and those pocket vegetables are only gonna last you for so long.