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upsidedownlurker · 3 months

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The most beautiful, awful Byler crackfic you'll ever read (11,253 words)

Karen Wheeler’s son sits in front of the mirror, dressed in the one black suit he wears to every formal event. His long, curly hair reaches down to his shoulders now that he’s eighteen, all gangly limbs and sharp features. So young and already getting married to his sweetie-pie; Mike reminded Karen of herself.

Thankfully, the sexual repression seemed to have skipped a generation. Karen’s son, getting married to a woman! A woman! She never thought this day would come.

Karen loomed over him, hand welded to his shoulder, brandishing her hair-straightener in her other hand like a pair of tongs. “Your hair’s all curly, Michael!” she lamented. “Here, let me straighten it out for you.”

“Seriously, Mom?”

“What? ” she exclaimed, “It has to be straight for your wedding, Michael!”

“But it’s naturally curly.”

Click-clack went the straightener. Karen smiled, her eyes concerningly wide and her lips shining blood-red. “That can be fixed…”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Ugh! Fine,” Karen said, placing the straightener down carefully and looking to her right. “Now, Ted–”

Ted didn’t look up from the 3-piece chicken combo he was gobbling down.

“Ted!”

Ted smacked his fingers, happily enjoying his chicken. In response, Karen snatched his last remaining chicken leg and threw it to her right. It hit the mirror, exploding into bits of chicken-y shrapnel and leaving a trail of greasy slime over Mike’s reflection. Mike put his head in his hands.

Karen continued. “Ted!”

“What? My damn chicken, Karen–”

“Put your son’s tie on. Family tradition.”

“Fine.”

Ted meandered over to Mike. “Where’s your tie, son?” he grumbled, sticking his hands forward like some kind of greasy-fingered, chicken-chomping zombie.

Mike pulled his head from his hands, and upon witnessing the horrific sight, he immediately flinched away. “No…”

Meanwhile, Ted gazed longingly at his fallen chicken leg. “What is it now?”

“Just no!”

Mike pulled a tie from his pocket. It was hand-painted, covered in shields and hearts. He started to tie it himself, glaring up at Ted as he did so. “Dad, this tie is too precious for you to touch with your greasy chicken fingers.”

“They are not greasy chicken fingers, Michael.”

Karen sighed. “They are greasy chicken fingers, Ted.”

“Eh, whatever.” Ted grumbled, exasperated. After searching unsuccessfully for a place to wipe his greasy chicken fingers, he gave up and rubbed them all over his hair.

“Better?”

“No!” Mike and Karen shrieked in tandem. Mike rolled his eyes and hastily finished tying his tie. He stroked a single finger over one of the hand-painted hearts and smiled softly. No wedding gift would ever top this. Meanwhile, Karen was reaching for her most precious hair-styling tool.

“I’m proud of you, Michael,” Ted began, “and I’m still shocked my twink son is going to have a wife.”

Brandishing her beloved hair-straightener, Karen walked calmly towards Ted, unblinking. “Are you now, Theodore?”

“Woah, woah!” Ted started backing away, scared. “What’s this?”

“Theodore, your hair’s covered in chicken grease. It’s not straight anymore. I have to fix you.”

Ted sighed, and let his wife straighten him out again like usual. If only he had another 3-piece chicken combo to distract him. He turned to Mike.

“See what happens?” Ted grumbled.

“What happens when what?”

“When you deprive a man of his chicken.”

“What?”

Hair now completely straightened, Ted walked out of the room, mumbling something about crispy chicken skins and eleven secret herbs and spices. Karen put her hand on Mike’s shoulder. She smiled.

“I think it’s time for a photo, Mikey-Wikey.”

“OH FUCK!” Mike screamed as he bolted right out of the room.

Karen rolled her eyes. At least she had her hair straightener to keep her company.

“Are you ready, El?” Will asked for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

He had been pacing around the room for twelve minutes now. Meanwhile, Eleven was snuggled comfortably between Lucas and Max, the three of them sharing a blanket. El was already in her wedding gown, with her usual plaid shirt underneath. She saw no need to fuss over her appearance any more than necessary– hence, the snuggling.

“Yeah,” El replied, very content with her current situation. Her brother, on the other hand, looked ready to pass out. “Are you ready, Will?”

“God, no. This could all go so horribly wrong.” He continued pacing. As he did so, the lights began to flicker and objects started floating around the room. Will groaned as the radio buzzed to life, playing a very familiar song by The Cure. “El, could you stop? This prank is getting old.”

Lucas, Max and El groaned. “Will,” lamented El, “I’ve been telling you this isn’t a prank for the past year.”

“Uh-huh,” said Will sceptically. “And I haven’t believed you for the past year. What is it, then, if it’s not a prank?”

“Will, I keep telling you, you have powers .”

“Which makes no sense.”

“Yes it obviously does!”

“Yeah, sure,” Will said sarcastically, “Sure it does. And my ex-father has a big, gay crush on Ted Wh–”

Suddenly, Will gasped, reaching for the back of his ice-cold neck as all the objects in the room spun wildly out of control, then dropped to the floor.

Just as they did, Ted Wheeler burst into the room, sweating and panting like a dog. He was followed closely by Mike, who slammed the door behind him, sliding all the way down and falling face-first onto the floor in a crumpled heap. Lucas and Max immediately covered El with the blanket, screeching, “Protect the bride! Protect the bride!”

Mike waved them away, still on the floor and too tired to care. Meanwhile, Ted was surveying the room. There were flowers, makeup, decorations and– food – lying all over the carpet, along with one Mike Wheeler.

“Why’s all this stuff on the floor?” Ted questioned.

Will sighed, looking pointedly at El. “I have no idea, Mr. Wheeler.” The blanket started to float off of El’s head while he stared at her. “Probably a stupid prank.” As soon as Will looked away, the blanket plonked right back onto her head.

“Oh my fucking God,” said Max into her hands. Lucas patted her shoulder while sending Will a withering look– but Ted wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, he was kneeling on the carpet, salivating over a KFC Go Bucket that had fallen over.

“I’ll take this,” he said, hugging it to his chest like a baby and gleefully skipping out of the room. Meanwhile, Mike was still lying in the foetal position. He kept quietly repeating, “Chicken… straightener… tie… why?”

Will crouched next to him. “You okay?”

“No, Will, I’m not okay. I’m never gonna be okay!” Mike cried. “Why do they do this to me? Why do they want to see me suffer?”

“I don’t know,” Will murmured soothingly, rubbing Mike’s back.

“What did I do to deserve this batshit insanity, Will? What did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Will continued.

“Mother will never understand why I have to leave.” said Mike.

“Mhm.”

“The answers I seek will never be found at home.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll leave in the morning with everything I own in a little black case–”

“Well, you’ve gotta marry El first.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Speaking of which–” Mike finally sat up to look in his soon-to-be wife’s direction. “You okay under there, El?”

El gave a cheerful thumbs up from beneath the blanket. “I am well.”

“Cool,” Mike said, looking directly at Will.

The wedding officiant stepped up onto the stage, gazing into a very unique sea of faces. Teenagers, adults, an intense young woman with a sawed-off shotgun. She announced, “Welcome everybody, to the wedding of Michael Wheeler and Jane Eleanor Byers.”

Scattered applause rang out from the crowd, as well as a single cheer from one curly-haired boy. Curiously, quite a few people were either smirking or making very interesting faces. Perhaps the marriage was controversial among the guests– understandable, given the two were so young.

Really– they would soon be newlyweds, and they were both eighteen! From the officiant’s experience, the couples who got married early fell into two groups:

Those who had truly found the love of their lives.

Those with very poor decision-making abilities.

The officiant wondered which group Jane and Mike fell into. The latter was much more common than the former, although… there were always the lucky few. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so cynical. Nevertheless, she continued her introductory speech. “I must ask that everybody acts respectfully during the ceremony. This is a very special day for these young newlyweds.”

Snorting and muffled laughing erupted from the tables nearest to the front. The officiant was going to tell them off, until she saw who the main culprits were. It was Mike and Jane themselves. Jane leaned into Mike’s shoulder while she giggled, and Mike used his hands to muffle both of their laughter. After a moment, Jane was elbowed by a red-headed girl, and a boy with a bowl cut rolled his eyes.

Finally, they shut up.

The officiant continued her speech– the same introductory speech she’d given at practically every wedding she’d officiated over the past few years. Her lips moved on autopilot, on pure muscle memory. She wasn’t thinking about her words, because one question plagued her mind:

What was so funny? All she said was that it was a special day.

She wondered how long the giggling couple would last. Only time would tell. One thing the officiant knew for sure, was that she’d need a lot of alcohol to get through this night.

“Michael Wheeler, do you take Jane Eleanor Hopper to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

He froze.

What was he supposed to say?

Mike instinctively looked to his lifelong friend behind him. Will would certainly know what to do– and wow, he looked so dashing – his suit was fitted to reveal his muscles, golden rays of sunlight beamed across his face, and his gorgeous bowl-cut was lightly tousled by the breeze. His pretty lips opened, and Mike’s lovely view was unceremoniously shattered.

“Mike! You’re the groom, remember? You’re the groom!”

Mike looked to his expectant ‘sweetiepie’, then to Will again. Will mouthed, “I do,” gesturing wildly in El’s direction.

Mike took a deep breath, and turned back around to El, putting on his sunglasses. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, accompanied by two thumbs-up.

The officiant looked mortified. Still, she valiantly continued on.

“Do you, Jane Eleanor Hopper, take Michael Wheeler to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Jane made eye contact with Max and immediately snorted, hiding a giggle behind her palm. “Yes,” she said eventually.

After a lengthy silence and an awkward cough from Dustin, scattered applause burst from the crowd. Except for Ted Wheeler, who was making heart-eyes at the large box of popcorn chicken in his lap.

“Great!” said the officiant enthusiastically, like a Kindergarten teacher who had just been informed that her student had finally learned to use the potty. “You may now kiss the bride.”

“Great,” said Mike unenthusiastically, staring at Eleven.

“Great,” Eleven said with an equal lack of enthusiasm. She looked back at Max and Lucas, who motioned frantically for her to lean forward.

Eleven leaned forward.

Mike leaned back.

Eleven leaned forward.

Mike leaned back.

Eleven leaned forward.

Mike leaned back too quickly this time, and he would’ve fallen over if Will hadn’t caught him in his big, strong arms. Wrapping his own arms around Will’s neck, Mike felt a flurry of butterflies erupt from his chest and a blush form on his face– Man, Will truly was a man’s best Best Man best friend. Man.

“Wow,” Mike breathed, before darting forward to briefly smooch Eleven on the lips.

Eleven tried to put a hand on Mike’s face, but he shook it off.

“Mm, no.” He said.

There was a pause. The room was silent. Then, Eleven smiled. “That was sufficient,” she said, “Goodbye.”

Eleven pushed Mike away and walked nonchalantly off the altar.

The officiant looked like she’d just witnessed her house get sucked up by a tornado. “Congratulations!” she said with every last shred of enthusiasm left in her tired body.

As scattered, half-hearted applause erupted again, Will addressed Mike. “Do you want me to put you down now?”

“No,” Mike said, taking off his sunglasses to look him in his pretty eyes.

Shrugging, Will carried Mike away. Meanwhile, El linked arms with Max and Lucas and they stepped down the altar together, away from any prying eyes. “Do you think they bought it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Max, “You said the kiss was ‘sufficient’, Mike let you put your hands on his face for a fraction of a second… No-one suspects a thing!”

Eleven couldn’t tell whether Max was being sarcastic or not. “Bitchin’,” she said, not a care in the world.

Lucas snorted. “Toooootally tubular,” he said loudly in a Valleygirl accent.

The three walked away together.

Still left standing on the stage, the officiant was dumbfounded. How could she even begin to question what was going on here? She hadn’t even told them to leave the stage yet. They didn’t even leave the stage together. They were escorted off by the best man, the maid of honour and the flower-boy.

What the actual fuck?

The officiant sighed. She needed a drink. To the open bar!

After everything was said and done, Ted Wheeler immediately made a beeline for the all-you-can-eat buffet. One section in particular: the fried chicken.

He was grabbing handfuls of chicken and shoving them onto his plate, when he met another person’s hand in the middle. It was soaking wet, stained with fried chicken crumbs, dripping car grease and beer. Ted looked up, and was awestruck by the familiar face he saw.

“Lonnie? Lonnie Byers?”

Lonnie chuckled. “The one and only.”

“What are you doing at the buffet?”

“Same as you, of course. I’ve been craving some–”

“Fried chicken?” Ted interrupted.

Lonnie gasped, mesmerised by the magical man in front of him. “How’d you know?”

Ted pointed to the colossal pile of fried chicken sticking out of Lonnie’s pants. “Is that fried chicken in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Why not both?” Lonnie winked.

The two chuckled. While Lonnie was distracted, Ted reached his hand into his pants and pulled out a piece of fried chicken.

Lonnie continued. “Hey, there’s only one guy I know who likes fried chicken as much as I do. You’re Ted Wheeler, aren’t you?”

“The one and only.”

“What do you say we take all this chicken somewhere… private?”

Ted Wheeler smirked.

The officiant wanted to cry as she watched two middle-aged men in stained white singlets shove fried chicken down their pants. What happened to society? What had the world come to? She speedwalked past them, just wanting to get to the bar.

She had never wanted a drink this desperately in her life. Not when she witnessed a little girl steal five boxes of Eggos from the grocery store. Not when she lost her jazzercise studio to a freak mall fire. Not even when her lying ex-husband Todd claimed his sports car was stolen by a strange man in a Hawaiian shirt and his slushie-loving, child-murdering Russian hostage.

She divorced him, naturally, although she always regretted it.

She had rebuilt her life over the course of a few years. The officiant had taken her job in order to move past her strange traumas, to help people find love and happiness, to reinvigorate her hope in humanity.

Now she was wondering whether humanity was really worth it anymore.

She collapsed onto a bar stool, banging her head repeatedly on the counter. The bartender, a balding man with funky glasses, long hair and a beard, looked at her expectantly.

“What’s the strongest thing ya got?” She asked.

“Well,” the bartender said slowly, “We have rubbing alcohol and bleach in the back–”

“PLEASE. I’LL TAKE ANYTHING.”

“...I was joking. You know that would kill you, right?” There was a silence as the officiant stared at him blankly, her head still resting on the counter. He continued, “You know that would kill you, right?”

The officiant lifted her head off the counter and stared directly and unblinkingly into his eyes, as though she could project all her pain and desperation into his soul via telepathy. It’s a shame superpowers weren’t real. Distantly, she heard laughter and the sound of a bowl clattering to the floor.

“Okay,” the bartender said shortly. “I am going to pour us some vodka, and you are going to tell me your troubles so I can read you like the intelligent, sane psychoanalyst bartender I am. Sound good?”

“Mhm.”

A moment later, the bartender reappeared with several very generous shots of vodka in hand. The officiant took two and downed them. “I’m Liz, by the way,” she said.

“Okay, Liz,” replied the barman. “So a series of strange traumas led up to you and your ex-husband’s divorce, you became a wedding officiant all because you believed it would finally reawaken the love in your soul again, only for you to be blindsided by the insanity you witnessed during this very ceremony. Now you don’t know what to believe anymore, you’re questioning every decision you’ve ever made that has led you to this point, and you’re seriously regretting your divorce.”

“How– how–? ”

But Liz received no answer. Instead, Liz took three more shots of vodka and promptly fell face-first into the bar.

“Another successful analysis,” said the bartender to himself. “Nice job, Murray Bauman, you’ve really outdone yourself this time!”

Then he ninja-jumped over the counter and skipped away.

“BY THE WAY,” he shouted over his shoulder, “I’M NOT A BARTENDER!”

Liz wanted to cry. Instead, she fell off her stool. Lying on the ground, she groaned, “Todd…” Then she passed out.

Murray cackled.

“Will, let me go!”

Will’s chuckling turned to hearty laughter, “No! You said you didn’t want me to put you down!”

“Well I’m saying it now!” Mike exclaimed through his hands.

“And I’m saying no!”

Will began to spin them both around, unknowingly drifting them right into the buffet table. They were both laughing, but not for long– they hit the empty fried chicken platter first, and as Will spun Mike again, a bowl of fruit clattered to the floor. Shocked, Will let go and Mike dropped to the ground.

“Ow,” Mike groaned, placing a hand tenderly to his tailbone where he fell onto it, “Oh, I’m gonna destroy you, Byers.”

Fruit surrounds him, strewn about the floor like a juicy massacre. Mike gathered the fruit in his hands and Will started backing away, but he was too late, because Mike was throwing it at him. It hit him right in the face, making a glorious splatter as bits of fruit land all over the place. There was strawberry in his hair, banana slices on his suit, and grapes tumbling to the ground.

Will’s mouth hung open in shock as fruit dripped down his face. He flicked most of the moisture off his hands and wiped them on his suit. Then, he looked right at Mike. “You. Will. Pay.”

Soon, Will was chasing Mike across the hall. Platters of food floated into the air as he ran past them, before clattering down onto the floor. If anyone noticed, they didn’t seem to give a shit.

Karen Wheeler stared at Mike and Will as they chased each other through the hall. She wasn’t paying attention to the surrounding area, just watching the boys dart and weave and dodge each other.

She wanted to say something, but to whom? Ted was gone, Joyce was occupied with Hopper, and Nancy was occupied with her gun. Karen reached into her handbag and pulled out her hair straightener. She walked to the most desolate corner of the room, ensuring nobody could see her.

“Hair straightener,” she asked quietly, “I can tell you anything, right?”

She twitched her hand, and the straightener nodded.

“Mm. You remember Michael, my son?”

“It’s been years,” said the straightener as Karen’s hand twitched again. “But I remember the boy. Such curly hair.”

“Yes, he takes after me. It’s a shame he won’t let me straighten it anymore.”

“A real shame,” said the straightener.

“Yes,” said Karen. She looked behind her, where the boys were done running, now standing against the wall chatting idly. “That Byers boy has such lovely, straight hair. What a shame it’s covered in… fruit .”

“Fruity indeed.”

“What do you say, H.S.? Shall I take you for one last ride?”

“Karen, I’d be honoured.”

“Perfect, time to–”

“Karen,” said a grouchy voice behind her, “I’m going to… is that your hair straightener?”

Karen startled then spun around, clutching H.S. to her chest like a precious gem. Breathing hard, Karen replied, “Yep.”

“Me and Lonnie are gonna get some more food,” he said, nodding towards the buffet table. All the food seemed to have inexplicably been flung everywhere, as though it had floated around for a few seconds before dropping unceremoniously onto the floor. Picky eaters, probably.

“Have fun,” said Karen, but Ted was already walking away.

“Oh, we will,” said the straightener.

“Yes, H.S. We will.” Lightning struck outside, and the lights flickered. Karen cackled with glee.

Dustin, Lucas, Max, El, Jonathan and Nancy were standing together by the buffet table, chilling out. They each had a fruity cocktail in their hands, which they were sipping periodically - besides Dustin, Lucas and El, who were drinking straight whiskey.

Mike and Will ran across the hall, platters clattering around them. As they slowed down and walked towards the door of the venue, they all watched, indifferent. Except Dustin of course, who looked like he had just seen Vecna voguing on the dance floor.

Eleven chugged the last of her whiskey. “I am going to get a better drink. Perhaps one of those cocktails with fruit. Goodbye.”

After she left, Dustin looked around to check if anyone else was listening. “So…” he began, “Anyone else think it’s weird that the bride and groom are just… not hanging out at all on their wedding night?”

Immediately there was a chorus of No’s and Obviously Not’s .

“WHAT?” He shrieked, voice cracking. “So… so you’re telling me everything that happened here today is an example of a completely normal, healthy relationship? You don’t see anything strange about…” Dustin gestured wildly across the room, “ALL OF THIS?”

Now the others looked confused.

“We didn’t say that,” added Nancy.

“Obviously it’s weird and abnormal,” Max said. “But Mike and El are, you know…”

Dustin squinted, his upper lip curling as he tried to figure out what he was apparently supposed to know.

Max’s eyes widened. “YOU KNOW.” She gesticulated wildly to emphasise her point.

“No, I don’t know.”

“...What?” Max’s voice had dropped to the quietest whisper Dustin had ever heard come from her mouth.

“I don’t know.”

Max looked at everyone else in the group, clearly panicked. They were too. Dustin was getting more confused by the second. He asked, “What was I supposed to know?”

Dead.

Silence.

Jonathan shook his head, loudly asking, “You didn’t tell Dustin?!”

Max turned to him, “No that was your job!”

Nancy said, “No, no, we never agreed to that. You and Lucas were gonna do it, remember?”

“Shit, shit, shit…”

Lucas sighed, “Yeah, we were gonna do it, but we couldn’t find the right time, and you said if we didn’t tell him, you would!”

“Okay, but you had to tell us you didn’t tell him before we would–”

Dustin groaned. “Oh my God, stop! What was I supposed to know?”

Mike and Will had exited the venue, giggling and snorting the whole way. They needed a private place to hang out, just the two of them. They looked through the car park, until one particular vehicle caught Will’s eye.

As Mike and Will broke into Lonnie’s car, cackling gleefully, they both heard a noise from far away. It was a loud, long, voice-cracking, shrieking, “WHAT?!” But just as abruptly as it had started, it was suddenly cut off, as though someone had put a hand over whatever was making that blood-curdling noise.

“What the hell was that?” Mike asked through the cackling.

“It sounded like Dustin.”

“Huh. You think something’s wrong?”

“Nah. I’m sure it’s fine. Quick, let’s get in.”

“Cool.”

Jonathan and Nancy chatted idly by the buffet table, watching Lucas, Max, and El, and Dustin where they were seated on the floor. Dustin was in the middle of them, looking harrowed, as El patted his back. He took a tentative sip of her cocktail.

“Hey, that’s pretty good.”

El grinned. “Right?”

“I’m never drinking straight whiskey again.”

“Did you not like the whiskey? You do not have to give it up if you enjoy it.”

“It tasted like ass, El…” Dustin bemoaned, “But like… good ass.” Then he burst into tears.

Lucas patted his back. “There, there. It’s ok, buddy.”

“You still like whiskey, right, Lucas?”

“Clearly,” Lucas replied, holding up the full glass in his hand.

“Ok,” Dustin panted, wiping his eyes. “So I’m not the only one. Cool. That’s fine. Everything is fine.”

Max patted his back. “I like whiskey too, you know.”

“Ok… that’s… also fine. Everything is absolutely 100% okay and I’m totally fine.” Then he burst into tears again. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL MEEEEE?!”

Jonathan turned to Nancy. “So, the fruity cocktails are a metaphor for homosexuality, right?”

“Definitely,” she replied.

“Cool.”

“Let’s go eat our delectable chicken carcasses in my car, Ted,” Lonnie had said. “No-one will bother us there.”

But when Lonnie and Ted arrived at the spot where Lonnie’s car was supposed to be parked… it was floating. The fucking car was floating in the fucking air like fucking magic, what the fuck?

“My fucking car–” said Lonnie.

“It’s floating in the fucking air–” said Ted.

“Like fucking magic– said Lonnie.

“What the fuuuuuuck–?” They said at the exact same time.

Ted smirked. “Welp, I guess we’ll have to find a different vehicle to perform our depraved acts of chicken consumption in.”

“I guess so,” replied Lonnie. “Hey! Look at that car over there!”

Lonnie was pointing in the direction of a cream-coloured sports car with its roof up and a number-plate which read ‘TODFTHR2’.

“You think Todd will mind if we borrow his car for a bit?” said Ted.

“He never has to know,” replied Lonnie.

The two middle-aged men high-fived, then linked arms and skipped towards the vehicle, giggling the whole way.

Meanwhile, seven metres above the ground of the parking lot, Mike and Will broke away from their makeout session. Mike lifted his hands from where they had been tangled in his boyfriend’s glorious, fruity bowlcut.

“That giggle,” whispered Mike, “Did you hear that?”

“Ew, yeah, it sounded like Lonnie,” Will whispered back, grimacing.

“No, no, no,” said Mike, “it sounded like my Dad .”

Mike and Will shared a confused look, and the car wobbled in the air for a second, but stayed floating. Hearing no more giggling, they went back to making out.

Now in Todd’s car, they shared the KFC Go Bucket that Ted had saved hours earlier. Lonnie and Ted reached for the same piece of chicken, and their hands touched, sending warm tingling sensations down each of their fingertips. Instead of moving away, they both tentatively grasped onto the chicken tighter, their fingers linking together. Ted moved his hand up. Lonnie moved his hand up. Soon, the last piece of fried chicken was level with both of their mouths.

Ted and Lonnie looked each other in the eyes. Ted raised an eyebrow, Lonnie winked, and soon they were biting the chicken leg decadently from both sides.

“Mm,” said Lonnie, his mouth full of greasy white meat.

“Mm-mm,” said Ted, words muffled by what he was swallowing down.

They chomped into the chicken like it was their last meal (and who knows, it might have been). Soon, they were both licking the bones clean.

Lonnie looked up from the chicken leg. “You know, this is the first time I’ve eaten chicken with another man before…”

Ted raised his eyebrows, shocked. “I had no clue.”

“Well, I used to eat it with the ol’ ex-wife, but it was never…”

“Enough?”

“Yeah…” Lonnie gazed into the empty KFC bucket in thought. “How’d you know?”

“When my wife would cook chicken for me, I’d eat it. Savour it, even. But it was never enough for me, Lonnie. I was always thinking about eating it with…”

“With…”

“Do you remember back in high school, when we–”

“When we shared that KFC family meal?” Ted nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. Lonnie continued, “God, I’ll never forget it, Ted. A day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thought about it at least once. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Ted gasped. “Me too! Vacations, promotions, getting married, having three kids… none of it compared to the fried chicken we shared together, Lonnie. None of it.”

“You mean that?”

“I really do.”

Lonnie shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. All this time, I was eating chicken with woman after woman– when I could’ve been eating fried chicken with you. We could have been eating it–”

“Together,” finished Ted, gazing longingly at the empty bucket between them.

“TOGETHER!” The two men yelled.

In the distance, a car crashed seven metres to the ground.

Lonnie’s car was flaming, but Mike and Will paid no mind; they were too busy dying inside.

“Holy shit,” Mike panicked, “Holy shit.”

“Together,” Will blurted out, “they yelled ‘together’, Mike.”

“Oh my God, Will. That’s my actual Dad. And your actual ex-Dad.”

“They said it together !”

“I bet they’re together–”

“Are they together?”

“What, like, togethe-together?”

“...Would that make us step-brothers?”

“NO.” Mike shook Will’s shoulders. “NO, WILL, NO. NO! NO! FUCK NO. FUCK THAT. FUCK YOU.”

“Gladly.”

Mike snorted. “Fuck off.”

The boys stepped out of the now-flaming car wreckage and watched their fathers from a distance. Whatever was happening in that cream-coloured sports car had the potential to scar them for life. And yet, they persisted on: they had to see what their fathers were up to.

Suddenly, Lonnie brought his hand to Ted’s chin and their eyes locked together. “Ted, I have a stupid idea. One of the craziest ideas I’ve ever had, besides planning to cover up my psychic son’s kidnapping for cash using a fake body designed by the lab I was in cahoots with.”

“Tell me,” said Ted.

“Do you wanna run away together?”

Ted put his hand on Lonnie’s shoulder. “We could go to every KFC in the state.”

Lonnie grinned and put his other hand on Ted’s. “Every KFC in the country.”

“And we could move to a farm, raise chickens of our own–”

“And kill them ruthlessly with no remorse–”

“Then slather them in grease and breadcrumbs–”

“And eleven secret herbs and spices.”

Ted laughed, “Yes, I’ll go with you! In fact, why don’t we go right now?”

Lonnie reluctantly took his hands off of Ted and turned his keys in the ignition, moving his hands to the steering wheel. “But won’t your wife and kids notice?”

“Ah, fuck ‘em. They’ll survive without me, I’ve barely talked to them in years.”

Lonnie cackled. “My man!”

“No,” Ted whispered tenderly, “My man.”

After a second’s pause, the two men touched hand-to-hand, nose-to-nose, and both Lonnie and Ted spoke. “Our man.”

Lonnie reluctantly moved away, ready to accelerate him and Ted into their crispy, chickeny destiny, but before he could, there was a knock at his window.

He looked, and the first thing he noticed was the bowl cut.

Ah, shit. It was his gay, gay son.

There was a knock on Ted’s window, too. Ted looked, and saw–

Ah, shit. It was his gay, gay son.

Both boys started speaking, but they were completely inaudible through Todd’s thick, glass windows. Ted leaned to Lonnie. “Mind rolling down the windows, my man?”

Lonnie sighed. “Fine, my manly man-man. I’ll roll down the windows so we can find out what our gay, gay, homosexual, gay, homosexual sons are blabbing about now.”

He rolled the windows down, terribly slowly, Mike and Will’s expressions withering more and more until it was done.

Mike and Will spoke at the same time, “Dad… you guys are together, aren’t you?”

Lonnie and Ted replied at the same time, “We’re in this car together, yes.”

“No,” Mike and Will continued at the same time, “Are you together together?”

Lonnie and Ted both went pale, gasped, and said, “TOGETHER? WHAT, LIKE SOME KIND OF HOMO? LIKE SOME KIND OF HOMOSEXUAL GAY HOMO?”

“Like a couple.”

“A COUPLE OF GAYS????!??!?!?!?!?”

Mike and Will rolled their eyes and sighed, exasperated. “YES, DAD, A COUPLE OF GAYS. ARE YOU A COUPLE OF GAYS.”

“No,” the chicken-loving buddies replied together, “We simply have a deep, soul-reaching bond that we have developed through a mutual love of KFC fried chicken. Any latent homoeroticism is purely coincidental.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, I’m sure it’ll come true eventually.”

There was silence for a moment. Nobody quite knew what to say. Then, Ted and Lonnie both spoke at the same time–

“What about you boys?”

Mike and Will’s eyes widened, “What?”

“That’s why you came out here, isn’t it? To eat crispy fried chicken together in a beautiful, purely coincidentally homoerotic expression of love?”

“No… we came out here to make out with each other in a beautiful, incredibly purposeful homosexual expression of love. That’s why we thought you two were out here.”

“EWWWW!” Ted and Lonnie yelled, “YOU BOYS LIKE BOYS ? GROSS! YUCKY! EWWWWWW! NO-NO-NO! ME NO LIKEY–”

Will willed a brick to fly through the driver’s side window frame and hit Lonnie on the head, knocking him out.

“Huh, I guess I do have powers. Alright then.”

“I’m just glad he shut up for once,” Mike said, “Annoying shit.”

There was another silence. Ted furrowed his eyebrows, thinking more than he had thought in decades. “Wait,” he began, “So you’re telling me… my mega-gay homo twink son… was an actual homo this whole time?”

“Yep,” Mike replied.

“I see”, said Ted. Then, he clicked his tongue. “You’re a disappointment, son… just like your father. Well done.”

“Wait,” Mike exclaimed, “So you are gay!”

“No, just a disappointment like you.”

“But you and Lonnie?”

“We’re chicken-loving gal pals, son, that’s all.”

“Hoy fucking shit. Okay. Great. I’m so glad you and your gal pal LONNIE BYERS can eat your CHICKEN TOGETHER. Just drive away, please.”

“I’m proud of you, son,” said Ted, a single tear rolling down his face– wait, no, it was just grease from the chicken.

“Don’t be proud of me, Dad. That’s the worst thing you could’ve said to me.”

“Good, I was lying.”

“Thank fuck.”

Suddenly, Lonnie woke up.

“Hey, Willy.”

Will turned his back to Lonnie, screamed in frustration, making every window in a 50 kilometre radius explode, then turned back, a strained smile on his face. “Yes, father dearest?”

“You’re straight, right? This was just another one of those funny little dungeon stories of yours, right?”

“No, Dad, I’m gay.”

“You’re… gay as in happy? Happy to be straight?”

“No Dad, gay as in gay.”

“Not even a little bit straight?”

“NO, DAD. I AM GAY. G-A-Y. I LIKE MEN. HOMOSEXUALLY.”

“Oh…” he thought for a moment, then looked at Mike, “And you’re one of those homosexuals too?”

“Um. Yes. I am also a homosexual.”

“Okay. Right.”

A smile slowly started to spread across Lonnie’s face. Will’s eyes widened. Could it be? He was… happy? His father, who had spent years tormenting him for the way he perceived his sexuality… this man was… happy? He was grinning, a wide-eyed, crazy grin that stretched across his face. Lonnie opened his mouth–

“See you in hell, homos!” He slammed his foot on the accelerator, and they were off, leaving only the smoky smell of KFC in their wake.

Mike walked over to Will and tapped him on the shoulder as they watched their former fathers drive off into the sunset. “Hey,” said Mike, “Does Lonnie know he’s headed straight for that flaming, bottomless wormhole from our final battle with the Upside Down?”

“Nope,” said Will, smiling serenely.

“Ah, fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah, they can burn in hell.”

Then they made out again, ignoring the distant screaming and the smell of burnt chicken.

“Liz?” Todd yelled as he ran straight into the wedding hall.

Oh God, this was such a horrible idea. Liz was nowhere to be found, the wedding patrons were staring at him, there was a vicious-looking young woman with a sawed-off shotgun pointed right in his direction, and worst of all: there was no more fried chicken left.

If he was Liz, where would he be?

Judging by the crowd gathered here tonight, that woman would be trying to drown her existential sorrows in alcohol by now…

Of course!

Todd headed straight for the open bar, but when he got there it was empty. No-one to be found. Another dud– what kind of bar doesn’t have a bartender? He was about to walk away when a strange man came running up to him. He was balding, with groovy glasses, long, dark hair and a beard.

“I’M HERE! I’M HERE, JUST YOUR USUAL BARTENDER READY TO TEND SOME BARS.”

Todd grinned and sat down on the barstool. The table in front of him was covered in shot glasses, vodka and drool– but that didn’t matter, the bartender was here!

“What can I getcha?” said the bartender.

“Have you seen a woman named Liz around? She’s the wedding officiant here, always smiling, loves vodka…”

“Two of those things were definitely true. Yes, I’ve seen her… but let’s talk about you.”

“What’s there to talk about? I’ve really gotta find Liz–”

“Here, have some vodka. Helps you think, maybe you’ll even figure out where your Lizzy is. In the meantime, I must do some Murraying.”

“Murraying? What is that?”

“Nothing, just a little psychoanalysis. Now, let’s see here…”

The bartender leaned forward, squinting. He took his glasses off, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on again. There was a pause. “Oh.”

“What?”

“That’s strange. I’ve got nothing.” The bartender looked completely thrown off. “No struggles, no ulterior motives or deep-seated sexual repression… Just a regular guy. All you want is to find Liz and drive out of here in your beige sports car.”

“How do you know I have a sports car?”

“You tell me, Toddfather.”

“Just tell me where to find my ex-wife, man.”

“Alright, fine, you wanna know where Liz is? Last I saw her, she was passed out at this very bar. So I dragged her unconscious body onto that bench outside. With a blanket. For safety.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? OKAY, THANK YOU, BYE!”

“Goodbye, Toddfather. Goodbye,” Murray whispered, a single tear streaming down his face. “My Murraying is finally complete.”

Todd ran as fast as he could, faster than he’d ever run before. He needed to get to Liz, needed to find her again and explain everything–

He burst through the back doors of the wedding venue, and right there on the bench, wrapped in a blanket was Liz. She blinked groggily, turning her head in his direction, before doing a triple-take and falling right onto the ground, like some kind of pathetic caterpillar woman.

That was the Liz he knew and loved.

“Liz!” Todd shouted, hastily kneeling on the ground beside her and cradling her blanket-wrapped body in his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Todd? I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” she hiccuped.

“Well, you did tell me that you never want me to see you again.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I? I’m so sowwy, pwease fowgive me?”

“Liz, of course I forgive you. Everybody’s car gets hijacked now and again, and everybody gets called a liar by their wife of ten years, divorced, then kicked out onto the street every once in a while. It wasn’t your fault.”

Liz smiles and hugs him. “You’re welcome to come back anytime, Todd. If you want to, that is.”

Todd chuckles. “I want to do more than just live with you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I want to have babies with you, Liz. I wanna be a Toddfather.”

“Yes, a million times yes!”

“Great! We’ll have those six little nuggets we always wanted…”

“Of course Todd, that’s–”

“The best part of the Happy Meal,” they said together.

Liz smiled, a single tear dripping down her face. “I love you.”

Todd grinned, a single tear dripping down his face. “I love you more.”

And like two magnets propelled together, Todd and Liz embraced for the first time in too long. Liz’s tired, jaded exterior wore away immediately, and Todd didn’t even care that his second cream-coloured sports car was being driven straight into some kind of hell-void by two chicken-obsessed men. He had his Liz back, and that’s all that mattered.

The screaming was pretty annoying, though.

Murray looked behind him, checking that he hadn’t been followed. As he slipped into the storage closet, he noticed that the man he had locked inside hours ago was still screaming. Or, trying to; the duct tape took care of most of his efforts.

“Jeez, shut up already!” Murray rolled his eyes, “I told you I was going to let you go. Just had to take your place as bartender to do some Murraying, you know how it goes.”

The man shook his head frantically, a single tear streaming down his face and onto his neat all-black suit; an odd contrast to his curly, dirty-blond mullet.

“Fine, I’ll take the duct-tape off,” Murray said. “I’m done now, anyways.”

Just as he said, Murray ripped the duct tape off (and a few barely-there moustache hairs). But something was wrong. The man, who had seemingly just been screaming for his life now had a blank expression on his face.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Murray.” A small smile edged at the corners of the bartender’s mouth.

Murray rolled his eyes. “Get out of here with that cryptic crap. I am a black belt in karate. I have taken down countless Russians. I will not hesitate to take you down as well, now get out of this closet.”

He opened up the door and the man stepped out immediately, practically running away from Murray and in the direction of the main hall. Suddenly, the bartender turned around. “Oh yeah,” he called out, grinning. “I was never the bartender. Check the fuckin’ freezer, detective !”

With that sinister remark, he was off, and Murray was beginning to regret his cool dismissal.

Should he run after the curly-haired impostor, or check the freezer? Option one was long gone, but option two was just a few feet away. Freezer it was. Murray strode over to the freezer, opened up the heavy sliding door, and blinked hard.

Inside was a terrified-looking young man with his wrists and ankles tied, shivering violently in the cold of the freezer. His hair was neatly combed, and Murray realised that all-black suit wouldn’t have looked out of place on him; given that everything but his underclothes seemed to have been missing, that wasn’t much of a stretch.

Murray quickly helped the actual bartender out of the freezer, and as he took one last look before shutting the door, he saw something. Lying on the ground was a white tank top, covered in dried blood and meat.

Now that he thought about it, the guy had looked kind of familiar. Curly, dirty-blonde mullet. Barely-there moustache. Bloody tank top. Meat monster.

That red-headed girl, Max. Didn’t she have a brother?

Shiiit.

Karen was alone. Well– except for her beloved H.S.

Her hair straightener had never let her down, not like everybody else at this wretched wedding. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be happy that her clearly homosexual son was getting married to a woman. Normally she’d be overjoyed that her boy was following in his mother’s footsteps, but today she was furious.

She had half a mind to chat up the wedding officiant and get married to her hair straightener instead– but she had a better idea.

Karen had been married to Ted for years, but it was clear neither had feelings for the other. From the moment they met in high school, when Karen plonked herself down on top of the pile of KFC between him and Lonnie, and asked Ted to go out with her… from that moment, she knew their heterosexual union was merely a homosexual disguise.

They had kids together, they had a life, but that didn’t stop Karen’s true feelings. That didn’t stop the urges. Karen knew what she had to do, once and for all.

Her heels click-clacked against the floor of the room as she made a beeline for Joyce Byers, who was talking to Jim Hopper. Joyce Byers, her old companion. The reason she sought out Ted in the first place.

Karen was right on the verge of every scourging urge she surged to purge.

She hesitated for a second– Was she really going to risk everything for a chance to revive a pitiful lesbian romance that had been dead for decades?

“Oh, fuck it,” Karen whispered to herself. Judging by the screams and the smell of burning chicken that wafted in from outside, Ted had clearly left to revive his own homoerotic relationship with Lonnie; it was either this, or nothing.

“Joyce Byers,” she proclaimed, tapping the woman on her shoulder.

Joyce turned around, her lovely, wavy hair spinning with her, a polite expression on her lovely face. “Oh, Karen! It’s been a while. How are you?”

“Joyce Byers,” Karen repeated. Then she laughed, a long laugh, a laugh so long it was starting to make Joyce and Hopper visibly uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” Classic Joyce, ever so lovely, ever so caring.

“Joyce Byers, I want you to be my wife.”

Joyce’s eyes grew wide, then softened as a quaint, queer expression quirked across her face. “Oh… I’m sorry Karen, I can’t.”

Karen’s stomach dropped to the floor, and she started hyperventilating. “But– but you’re a godless homosexual, like me! I’m your only hope for happiness!”

“No, Karen. I’m not a godless homosexual– I’m a godless bisexual , and I’m with Hop now. I’ve already found happiness with my beautiful bisexual hubby-wubby. You should’ve asked me a decade ago. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Karen’s eyes flashed red with murderous intent. A smile crept across her face, disguising her rage and torment behind bleached-white, perfect teeth. “Oh, that’s okay. Hey, what’s that over there?”

“What’s what?” Joyce said, as she and Hopper’s gaze followed where Karen’s finger was pointed.

Karen immediately grabbed Joyce by the back of the head at lightning speed, pulled her hair down and straightened it in a flash.

“Holy shit! My hair!” Joyce shrieked, “Karen, what the fuck? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, KAREN??? KAREN?!?!??!?!!?”

But Karen didn’t reply. Her rage, torment and fractured hope had been brewing into a toxic mixture inside her for some time now, and now it was bubbling up– in the form of laughter.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” Karen cackled with glee, “GET STRAIGHTENED, BITCH!”

“Get my ex-husband’s name out your fucking mouth!” Joyce bellowed in reply. Then she slapped Karen in the face, knocking her to the ground. Karen was soon scampering off into the crowd of clueless wedding patrons.

“Hop!” Joyce elbowed him lightly in the ribs, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

Hopper turned around to face his wife, eyebrows furrowed. “I couldn’t see what Karen was pointing at… Wait, did you do something different with your hair?”

Joyce sighed, just happy Karen had left. “Nothing much, Hop.”

Then Joyce and Hopper kissed, hehehehehe. Kissy-kissy. Mwah. Mmmmmmmmm. Kiss. KISS. KISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Karen was about to run outside and cry, until she spied Dustin’s mother by herself, picking up what was left from the buffet table. She speedwalked towards her, only one mission on her mind– but she was too slow.

Dustin’s mother screamed, ran towards her son (who was still being patted on the back by Lucas, Max and El) and hid behind him, shivering. “Never again,” she whispered, memories of click-clacking hair straighteners echoing in her mind.

“Goddammnit!” Karen yelled, click-clacking her hair straightener in fury. She then scampered outside on all-fours, leaving a room full of weary wedding patrons in her wake. They all seemed to make the decision together; this whole wedding was the most confusing mess they’d ever attended, and they wanted to witness every last bit of this horrific trainwreck.

So, they followed. Every last patron. Including a certain undead curly-haired bastard, who hadn’t been invited.

Karen sat on the steps of the venue, sighing wistfully every ten seconds. A few metres away, the wedding officiant was wrapped in a blanket and snogging some guy in a beige suit. Just ahead of her, Karen’s clearly gay son was making out with Joyce’s clearly gay son next to The Fiery Wormhole, in which her now ex-husband was finally burning into a crisp along with his sweet, lovable friend Lonnie.

Everyone had someone, it seemed. Everyone except Karen.

Karen flashed back to the time she had been the most happy. At the pool, with the gals, trying to impress the lifeguards. One in particular. She never did get to go on that date…

Karen sighed for the forty-second time in seven minutes. She really did miss him. “Golly gee, H.S.” she lamented. “Where’s an eighteen-year-old lifeguard with a mullet when you need him?”

“RIGHT HERE MRS. WHEELER!” said Billy, rising from the ground, covered in dirt, with half the flesh on his face melted off and chunks of his torso missing. Eek!!! So dreamy and cute!!!

“Actually, I’m not Mrs. Wheeler anymore. I’m just Karen now,” she corrects. “Karen Creel.”

Billy laughed as a centipede crawled out of his mouth and into his missing eye. “Woah, like that crazy murder family? That’s hot, Mrs. Creeler.”

“Totally,” she said, standing up. Karen ripped her dress off to reveal a blue and pink bathing suit. “You know, I never stopped wearing it, Billy… not for–”

“353 days?” said Billy.

Karen nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

“I know,” he replied. “I’ve been watching you from the mind of your dead, telekinetic brother, Henry.”

“That’s hot,” she replied. “Wanna marry me, eighteen-year-old undead lifeguard?”

“I really do, Mrs. Creely-Weely. I really, really do.”

“Ok,” said Karen, shrugging. She and Billy walked off into the sunset, holding hands. Suddenly, they were both knocked to the floor by something– or someone– who had just burst from the ground.

“PICK ME, KAREN!” Yelled Bob Newby, holding up a sign that said, “Pick me, Joyce!”

Will finally stopped making out with Mike for long enough to whisper, “Bob?”

Bob looked towards Will and paled. “Aw rats,” he growled. “No, I’m not Bob.” Not-Bob’s face shifted violently, and he rose from the ground further, revealing a horrific yet familiar body.

“Vecna?” Will whispered.

“Wait, what?” Mike exclaimed, finally looking away from Will. “VECNA?”

“Yeahhhhhhh. Sorry, kid,” Not-Bob-Actually-Vecna admitted sheepishly. “Ya got me. I survived the fiery bottomless pit, and… I had to take my chances with your Mum.”

Mike nodded, just happy that Vecna had apparently stopped wanting to destroy the world, and not wanting to get into any more epic battles.

Meanwhile, Will was flabbergasted.

“BUT HOW DID YOU SURVIVE THE FIERY BOTTOMLESS PIT? IT’S BOTTOMLESS!”

“Well…” Vecna began. But before he could continue, Karen spoke. “Billy… Not-Bob-Actually-Vecna… I have made my decision.”

She sighed, a new record for most amount of sighing in one fanfiction. “I’ve looked at all my options and I’ve decided… My hair straightener is my one true love. She’s always been there for me, through thick and thin hair… and she’s beautiful. I’M GOING TO MARRY MY HAIR STRAIGHTENER.”

Karen walked confidently over to Todd and Liz, and ripped them apart. “HEY, LIZARD McWEDDINGOFFICIANT!”

Liz gasped, “How did you know my full, legal name?”

“I need you to pronounce us wife and wife,” she said, gesturing to her and H.S.

“Okay, fuck. Uh, Karen and hair straightener, you’re now wife and wife. Go kiss or whatever.”

Karen took Liz’s words seriously, because she and H.S. began to perform something that can only be described as a burning, passionate, kiss-adjacent war crime.

Vecna watched on, sad but intrigued by the display. Billy watched on. Smirking, he said, “That’s hot… really hot… OH GOD I’M BURNING ALIVE!!!!!!!!”

The wedding patrons had all stepped outside by now, including Murray, who had just smashed a molotov cocktail over Billy’s head. As Billy ran around screaming, Will took the opportunity to break away from Mike and telekinetically throw Vecna into the sun. Damn, having superpowers would’ve made defeating that guy a whole lot easier.

As Billy continued to run around, everyone began to realise that he wasn’t the only one screaming. There were multiple screams emanating from the fiery bottomless pit… and they were growing louder.

“Will,” whispered Mike, “Doesn’t that sound like…?”

“I hope not, but I think it is…” Will muttered gravely.

The crowd watched on as the screams grew louder, and the smell of crispy, smoky, horrifically burnt chicken emanated from the bottomless pit.

It couldn’t be.

A crackling, sloshing sound filled the air– a familiar sound that hadn’t been heard since the Starcourt mall fire of 1985.

It couldn’t be.

The screaming turned to groaning, a painful, horrible groan. “CHHHHHHHHKNNNNNNNN…” the pit-monster bellowed.

It was.

Every wedding patron in that room had been scarred by years of disaster and torment, but nothing prepared them for what they were about to see.

Crawling out of the fiery pit of hell was none other than Ted Wheeler and Lonnie Byers. But it wasn’t just the two of them. They had formed a meaty, chickeny, amorphous blob of flesh and fire. The stench was horrific.

Meanwhile, on the surface of the Sun, with a pair of indestructible binoculars, Vecna giggled as he watched the whole thing with glee. He knew it was possible for a meat monster to be made without his control… but nobody else was controlling this thing, either. It was sentient; its own beautifully horrific creature. The Meat Monster 2.0.

“CHICKENNNNNNN…” The Meat Monster 2.0 growled, low, pained and bellowing.

The monster quickly made its way to a discarded KFC bucket that had fallen close to the pit. It instantly scarfed down all the crumbs and bones that were once inside.

“Yum,” said the Ted half of the monster. “Alright Lonnie, should we get going again?”

“Yep,” said the Lonnie half of the monster. “Now that little detour’s out of the way.”

“Okay,” said Will. “Okay. Alright. What the hell is going on here?”

“Oh, hi again kid,” said the Meat Monster 2.0. “Don’t mind us, we’re gonna go ransack every KFC in the state. See ya.”

“HOLD ON.” Said Will, the last fragments of his sanity about to wither into dust. “HOW THE HELL DID YOU CLIMB OUT OF THAT THING?”

The Meat Monster 2.0 chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“NO, IT’S NOT, THAT’S WHY I’M ASKING YOU. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET OUT OF THE BOTTOMLESS WORMHOLE?”

“Because it’s a bottomless wormhole… and we’re both bottoms.”

Will was not okay.

“DOG FUCKINIG DAMMNNITN!!!!!! ASDJHFGAKSFG!!!!!! FUCKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!”

Meanwhile, Mike was intrigued. “Wait, does that mean Vecna’s a bottom?”

Will was too stunned to speak.

Billy stared at the beautifully horrific, strangely familiar creature that was standing in front of him. He was no longer screaming, despite the flames that were still sizzling over his body. The flames didn’t matter, because this thing was wayyy hotter.

“Hey gorgeous,” he smirked, “Wanna go out?”

“Ooh,” the Meat Monster 2.0 said, “Sure thing, pretty lady.”

“I’m not a lady.”

“What? But you have long hair… Sorry pretty not-lady, we can’t go out with you.”

“What do you mean?” Billy was puzzled. “Aren’t you, y’know… a couple of meat-loving meat-men?”

“Only when it comes to chicken.”

“But aren’t you together?” Exclaimed Billy, thoroughly confused.

Ted and Lonnie shook their horrific, meaty heads. “Ummm, we’re both straight. We’re just straight… together .”

“Hey, kid,” said Billy, looking directly towards Will, who had finally stopped screaming and started crying.

“WHATTTTTTT?” Will wailed woefully.

“Mind flinging me into the sun?”

“Fine, whatever.”

Will half-heartedly flung Billy into the sun, where he landed directly on top of Vecna. “Hello, handsome,” he said.

“Uhh…” Vecna looked sheepish as he pushed Billy off his slimy body. A trail of heavy, sizzling footsteps made their way to the pair. Billy looked up, to see an oddly familiar face standing above him.

“Sorry, sir,” the man said. “He’s taken.”

“Aw, rats. Sorry about that, Eddie,” Billy apologised. “Hey Vecna, mind flinging me back down?”

“Sure thing, Billiam. Have fun down there!”

Billy landed directly on top of Karen, squashing her. She immediately died. Oops.

“NO!” Billy screamed, “NOOOO!” He sobbed, hugging her flattened body. “THE ONLY REASON I CAME BACK TO LIFE WAS TO GO ON THAT DATE WITH YOU… AND NOW… IT SHALL NEVER BE! I’D RATHER DIEEEEEEE.”

So, he died, exploding flesh and centipedes everywhere. The wedding guests were covered in it. They kept watching, though, eyes glued to whatever the fuck was happening.

Billy was dead.

Then, Karen woke up.

“Oh, hey Billy. Sorry, you killed me for a second there. I’m back though.”

She looked down. In her hand was H.S., completely smashed to pieces. Her beloved, illegally newlywed wife was dead. Splatted onto her lap were the bloody remnants of Billy’s clothes.

For some reason, she felt the urge to reach into his pocket.

She did, and found…

“Oh my God. A date.” Karen began to sob, tears streaming down her still-squashed face as she cupped the withered, sun-dried fruit in her withered, blood-moistened hands. “We finally did it Billy… we got our date…”

Her life was complete; there was nothing left to live for.

Karen Creel was dead.

A pause.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

The gobsmacked crowd burst into a round of applause, cheering and crying. Never before had they experienced something so raw. So beautiful. So centipede-infested. A few of them had dropped dead as well, a combination of the shock and the stench proving too much for their brains to comprehend. The rest of them would be forever scarred, never able to sleep again, lest the images of burning flesh explode and cascade across their vision in a fiery orange rain of tragedy.

“Look, Will, they’re cheering,” said Mike.

“Huh. I mean, if they’re fine with watching flesh, blood and hellfire rain from the skies and splatter them with unforgettable horrors beyond comprehension… then I guess they won’t mind if we kiss a little.”

“Yeah, it’s only logical.”

So, Mike and Will made out for a bit… until they realised that the cheers had grown oddly silent.

The bartender was the first to speak. “Wait…” he said, still shivering and blue from being locked in the freezer for four hours. “THOSE TWINKS ARE FUCKIN’ HOMOS???????”

“Ah, shit,” muttered Mike.

“THAT’S GREAT!” The bartender continued.

“Phew,” breathed Will.

“BECAUSE NOW,” said the bartender, “WE KNOW WHO TO BLAME FOR THIS!”

“Goddamnit”, groaned Mike.

“THIS INCREDIBLE, LIFE-CHANGING EXPERIENCE!”

“Aww,” said Will.

“AN EXPERIENCE THAT HAS BRUTALLY SCARRED THE MINDS OF EVERY PERSON IN THIS CROWD AND RUINED US FOREVER.”

“FUCKING HELL,” yelled Mike, “DO YOU ACCEPT US OR NOT?”

The bartender jumped, eyebrows raised. “I thought I made myself clear.”

Mike replied, “You absolutely didn’t.”

“Well,” continued the bartender, “I think that’s for the audience to decide for themselves.”

“WHAT AUDIENCE?!” Mike yelled. “WHAT?!”

The bartender just laughed, before announcing, “ROLL CREDITS!”

“No,” muttered Mike, “No no no no no.”

But before he could do anything else, Murray produced another molotov cocktail from his pocket and smashed it over the bartender’s head. Combined with the man’s already freezing body temperature, this created a small explosion that further covered the guests of the wedding in bits of flesh. They didn’t mind at that point.

“Good riddance,” said Murray. “Anyway, you kids are alright by me.”

Usually when Murray liked something, it was very, very concerning. But Mike and Will were touched by this; both had expected to be immediately outcast for their relationship. For one person– just one person – to accept them… it meant the world. Even if he was a strange bastard who had literally just killed a man.

Mike and Will looked to the crowd, who seemed unsure. Suddenly, Liz and Todd stood up, still hugging. Todd cleared his throat. “These two homosexual harlots may have lied to us all, but… Murray likes them. And Murray is the wonderful man who saved my relationship with Lizard McWeddingOfficiant, the woman who kicked me out of my house and destroyed my life a second time after several of the guests at this godforsaken wedding already destroyed it the first time.”

Mike sighed. “Is that good or bad?”

“I dunno”, said Todd. “This whole day has been screwed up, just like the rest of my life. So… I guess that means being gay is normal.”

“Yeah!” Said Liz enthusiastically. “They reawakened my desire for love, indirectly, through their weird, balding friend!” Then Liz and Todd started making out again.

“Greaaat,” said Murray unenthusiastically. “Excellent points, folks. Very well done.”

The crowd, still covered in meaty, fleshy gunk, was still unsure.

“But wait…” said one guest, “This Byers/Wheeler relationship… Byler, if you will… it’s just not realistic for this time period. I mean, I know we’re all covered in crawling centipedes and the flesh of the people we just watched die in front of our eyes, and I know we’ve just witnessed horrors beyond our comprehension, but… I dunno. Something about these gay, gay, gay boys just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Yeah,” said a few people in the crowd, tentative to express their opinions.

“I see,” said Murray. “Who else feels this way?”

“Me,” said one person in the crowd. “I mean, Mike and Eleven have been together since they were kids! They just got married and expressed their love to each other in a beautiful way… sure, it was a little awkward, and they didn’t seem to want to kiss each other, and when I was watching them from the bushes with my binoculars, I noticed they were a lot happier when they were broken up… but that doesn’t matter. They’re Mike and Eleven! They’re meant to be!”

“Yeah!” exclaimed another person. “Plus, Michelangelo and William are two boys. Two manly, manly boys who like girls. Boys just don’t belong together.”

The crowd looked to Murray, anxiously awaiting his response.

“Okay, then. How about this; everyone who hates the idea of Mike and Will’s relationship, raise your hands.”

The few people who spoke did, as well as a few confused-looking guests.

“Wait, who are you?” asked Will. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Oh, I just stopped by. I didn’t pay attention to the wedding or anything. Actually, I don’t even know who you are. I just don’t like you.”

“Cool, sick, great.”

Murray looked at the crowd. “Alright, everyone with your hands up, walk forward…” he gestured to a spot in the carpark, separate from the others. “I’m disappointed in you,” he told them, “I really am. However, I’m out of molotov cocktails, so you all got lucky; I’m not gonna set you on fire today.”

They all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“But I know someone who can.” He quickly pulled out his walkie-talkie, yelling “BOYS, COME ON DOWN!”

Distantly, barely audible, someone screeched, “YOUR ASS IS GRASS, HOMESLICE!”

There was no time to escape; no time to move; no time to blink. In an instant, two figures came rocketing in from the sky, hand-in-hand, both on fire, and they landed directly on top of the crowd in a massive crater.

Smoke billowed through the air. Through the thick, grey fumes, two men stood up. The only ones who survived the crash; Vecna and Eddie.

Eddie stepped forward. “Now that’s what I call a flaming homosexual.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Mike. “Okay Will, wanna go?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

“TO THE CITY!”

“RUN AWAYYYYYYY!”

Will used his newfound telekinetic powers to blast him and Mike across the country at infinite speed. Vecna and Eddie looked at each other, nodded, and blasted back into the sun.

Meanwhile, behind the crowd of guests, Lucas, Max and El were comfortably seated together, on a couch, asleep. Dustin was sitting contently beside them, chatting on the phone with Suzie, whiskey in hand once more. Joyce and Hop looked at each other and said, “That’s our son. Our gay, telekinetic son.” Jonathan stared at Nancy with a concerned look on his face, as his girlfriend bit a chunk out of her shotgun. “I made it out of charcoal chicken”, she said. “In case I got hungry”.

“Mind if I have a bite?” said Jonathan, drooling.

“Why not?” Nancy said. “Chicken is meant to be shared… just like our love. Now at KFC for only $4.99, you can get yourself a delicious Family Bucket of juicy fried chicken; just $4.99 for fifteen pieces of succulent, delectable fried chicken– I’m lovin’ it!”

“Nancy,” Jonathan whispered. “That’s the McDonald’s slogan.”

“What?” She whispered, true fear clearly visible behind her eyes.

Click.

Murray was standing behind them, a real sawed-off shotgun in his hands.

“Say that again. I dare you.”

“It’s… it’s…”

“IT’S FINGER LICKING GOOD!” Shouted Jonathan. Tears streamed from his eyes as he grabbed Nancy’s chicken-shotgun and took a mouth-watering, scrumptious bite. “It’s… finger-licking… good,” he sobbed.

“Good,” said Murray. “Good… then my work here is done.”

He started to leave, and everyone in the crowd breathed a sigh of relief. Until he suddenly stopped, turning around again.

“Oh yeah,” he grinned, “I almost forgot.” Murray took a bite out of his shotgun. “You’re not the only chicken-obsessed freaks in Hawkins.”

“Now, for $4.99,” said Murray, “You can get yourself a delicious Family Bucket of juicy fried chick–”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Will shrieked, flying into Murray at the speed of light, shattering him into pieces and splattering the crowd with even more flesh. “If ANY of you mention KFC to me EVER AGAIN, you’ll be next. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good.”

Will flew away, and Hawkins kept their word; they never uttered those dreaded three letters to one another ever again, lest they relive the worst day of their lives; the day of reckoning; the darkest wedding in Hawkins history; the day Will Byers snapped.

Legend goes, if you stand in front of the mirror in the old, abandoned Byers house, and whisper, “KFC… KFC… KFC…” Will Byers will appear in your reflection, and when you’re finally found, they’ll never fully scrub you off the walls.

Such is the legend of Hawkins, in which the strangest things are bound to happen. It’s finger-licking goasdkuvgjhSADJFHGABKSADHFGXABFYWGBXINWKFGXNKAEJWFGXABEKFGNXAKEUVYGFUCKINgFwkrjc3fgnejUCKWHATTHEFUCKNXEVUENXRUVYGNEKVUGXNEFGNEASUwefjhbcqknbfj3hYFXGNEAKFXYGNEKSFYGXNEKsfdmnbSRUHVXNEKSURHVGNSEKUHFGXNEKSURHFXGNESKUFHGXNEKUHFGNSKURFGXNEKSURFHXGNKEUFHGXNEKSUFGNXKERSUHGFKHafkwqh...................,,,,,,,,,///////////////////////////////////////////////oops

Hey guys, it’s me again, your narrator. I got splattered into a fleshy pile of meat for a second there. Sorry about that. Don’t worry, though; turns out KFC isn’t chicken at all. It’s just the batter, eleven secret herbs and spices, and the body parts of the unfortunate cretins who dared utter its name. I found that out when the colonel himself broke into my house to make me into KFC. I’m a ghost now. TOODLES.

Yoooooo. If you made it to the end, I love you, please comment so I can congratulate you for surviving lol

#byler #crackfic #byler crack #stranger things shitpost #stranger things fanfiction #anti mileven #but in a fun way #kinda #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #the wedding fic #the KFC fic #ted x lonnie #its so serious guys #stranger things shitposting #stranger things fic #st fic #meatflayer

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alyce-va · 2 months

Text

An Average Day At KFC

A Buggy x Shanks cursed fic

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon in KFC. “Hawkyyyyy can you believe my bestie Buggy broke up with me.” Shanks said as he cried onto Mihawk's pant leg as Mihawk merely ignored him as he sipped his coffee, reading the Garfield Comics in irritation. “Am I supposed to care?” He says coolly as Shanks gasps in shock. “Hawky you don’t mean that, i know you care about me.” Shanks replies, hugging Mihawk's leg as Mihawk's eyes twitch in annoyance. “Yes you are quite the disappointment indeed.” “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

A few tables away sat a trio of brothers who were blissfully inhaling their KFC meals at a rapid pace.”LUFFY STOP EATING MY FRIED CHICKEN!” Yelled Ace as he glared at his younger brother who had just consumed a whole platter of fried chicken in the blink of an eye.”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Luffy Says as he not so discreetly wipes away the crumbs and chicken grease from his cheeks as Ace squints at him with a frown. “Luffy I can clearly see all the crumbs and grease on your face”. He says with a deadpan stare as Luffy pouts looking away, wiping the rest of the crumbs off his cheeks only to spread it more as Sabo merely watches in amusement. “Nah uh it wasn’t me you have no proof.” “You little shi-“ Ace mutters annoyed as he looks away as he hears commotion in the corner. He stares in utter confusion and intrigue as he sees a grown man groveling on the ground, dramatically wrapped around someone’s leg. “Is that…..Shanks?” He says in disbelief as his first instinct is to take out his phone and record the scene.

Buggy, who had just finished taking a piss in the bathroom, walked out only to hear a certain redhead wails as he stared in utter disbelief watching Shanks draped around Mihawk's leg. “What the fuck happened, do i even want to know.” He says as Shanks turns to him as a single tear rolls down his eye. “Buggy how could you break up with me, i thought we had something special!” “What the fuck are you talking about?!” Buggy shouts in utter bewilderment at his utter nonsense. “You said you were going to break up with me, how could you after everything we’ve been through together.” Shanks sniffles as he wipes his nose on Mihawk's pant leg as Mihawk stares in utter disgust ready to kill this man. “You red headed bimbo I said I was going to the restroom! Are you really that dumb!?” Buggy could not believe the utter bullshit of this dumbass.

Ace was trying to hide his laughter as he recorded on his phone. “This is going straight to TikTok” he smirks as Luffy engulfs another of his fried chickens while he’s not looking. “Wait a minute ....did you just?” he squints at Luffy who turns away in an attempt to hide his cheeks full of food. “....no” Ace could only groan as Sabo merely sips on his tea in amusement. “Sabo you see this shit?” “Hmm whatever do you mean? I didn’t see shit, now stop picking on our little brother he didn’t do anything wrong” Sabo says with a smirk as he scolds Ace as Ace stares in utter disbelief. “You guys are assholes, y’all conspiring against me.”

Meanwhile at the Counter Sanji was going at this scene with annoyance as he glared at them all. “Really in my KFC, can't you see there’s lovely ladies trying to enjoy their fries and you are obviously disturbing their peace.” They all stare at Sanji for 5 seconds before continuing to absolutely ignore him. “Why those little-“ he says before kicking Luffy out of his establishment. “Get the fuck out of my KFC can’t you see you’re bothering the peace!” “What! I didn’t do nothing! What about those weirdos over there!?” Luffy yells pointing to Shanks. “I've been trying to enjoy this delicious fried chicken and this grown man has been crying like a little bitch, man i thought i looked up to him but I’m kind of having second thoughts now.” Luffy mumbles kind of annoyed that his precious food has been taken away from him as Ace and Sabo trying to hold back laughs at Luffy's utter savagery. “Damn Luffy who taught you that.” “You did Ace.” He says with a grin as Sabo glares at Sabo. “Why are you teaching our brother such foul language?” “I didn’t teach him shi-wait, hold up, that's a lie I did teach him not to be a little bitch.” “Ace you’re grounded, you can't speak that away in front of our brother.” “The fuck i can, and you can't ground me I’m older than you!” Ace says to Sabo as he stares him in the eye as Sabo coolly replies, “mph could have fooled me.” “THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!?” Ace yelled as they bickered back and forth as Luffy merely grins. “I knew that would work.”

Buggy is still attempting to console a distraught Shanks as Mihawks is trying his very best not to murder everyone in the room right now. “I’m never coming here ever again.” He says as he tries to focus on his Garfield Comics attempting to ignore him in utter annoyance attached to his leg currently. “Perona better be grateful I’m picking up her order for her” he mutters as he kicks Shanks off his leg once again.”Why the fuck are you still crying, i just told you i wasn’t leaving” Buggy yells at Shanks who wipes his nose on buggy’s shirt as Buggy screams in horror. “THATS DISGUSTANG SHANKS AND RIGHT ON MY DIOR SHIRT I JUST GOT THIS TODAY!” Buggy could not believe what he sees in this sad excuse for a man. “I’m sorry it's just that I got my white shirt dirty that you bought from the Salvation Army, I just wanted us to match.” “SO YOU HAD TO GET MY SHIRT DIRTY TOO?! YOU ASSHOLE! Sometimes I wonder why I never left your stupid ass.” Shanks sniffles before he looks at Mihawks but before he can open his mouth, Mihawks immediately stands up and walks away to another table on the other side of the room. “I don’t need to hear your moronic nonsense and I really don’t give a shit” “Damn Hawky i thought we were cool how could you betray me like that, can't you see I’m having a moment.” Shanks could not believe this, his bestie just left him in his worst moment. “What are you blabbering about now you dumbass, did you already forget what we were here for?” Buggy sighed annoyed from dealing with Shanks shenanigans.”oh yeah i already ate your share of Mac and Cheese while you were in the bathroom sorry.” “YOU WHAT!? Why did you eat mine!? You still have a full untouched bowl right there!” Shanks smiled before grabbing Buggy’s hand. “Because I missed you.” “Get your damn hands off of me who knows where they have been.”

"Damn this is like watching a Soap Opera, Marco ain’t gonna believe this shit.” Ace had been recording the whole thing live on TikTok as hundreds of viewers were coming in to watch this bullshit, “This why some people never get bitches.” He says before sipping on his Soda as Luffy was stealing food from other people's plates and eating them as Sanji yelled at him. “Stop eating other peoples food! Haven’t you eaten enough!?” Luffy merely looked Sanji in the eye before shoving another fry in his mouth slowly and eating it. “There’s no such thing as eating enough food i want it all” Sanji stood and stared at hi for a moment in utter disbelief before once again kicking him out and placing a sign that said “No Luffys allowed”. “Hey I didn’t do nothing wrong why everyone trying to keep the food away from me, I’m just trying to eat.” “Damn Luffy did you really get banned from KFC?” Ace says trying to hold in a laugh. “Shut the fuck up, this is why Sabo is my favorite brother.” “You little-“ THey began to argue before Sabo separated them and whacked Ace in the head. “Stop bullying your brother.” “What the fuck, but he started it?!” He says before Sabo wacks him again as Luffy sticks out his tongue from behind Sabo’s back as Ace sticks up a middle finger.

Mihawks stared down at his receipt in utter disbelief and annoyance as he saw added bills from that re headed buffoon shanks and that damn straw hat I’d who reminded him of that moron. “I’m going to kill them all in their sleep just they wait.” He glares down at the subtotal of 500 Dollars. “Who fucking eats this much.” He sighs before reluctantly paying it. “I need a glass of wine. I can't deal with this nonsense.” He notices a piece of paper by his drink and picks it up to read it. ‘Hey Hawky will you be a real pal and pay my tab for me, thanks i knew you would. I owe you one. -Shanks <3’ He stared at the note for a moment before crumpling it with a clenched fist. “I’m going to kill him”

Shanks had just finished his theatrics as he downed a glass of gas station beer as Buggy looked in disgust. “Really? Gas station booze? Are you that broke?” Everyday Buggy finds a way to question himself why he’s still with this man. “I can't believe you really went out looking like a broke homeless man, I know damn well you got that bank.” “Oh I do? I forgot about that.” “Fucking dumbass.” Shanks reached his hand inside his sweat pants and pulled out a box. “Buggy I know I may be dramatic sometimes but I got you something to let you know how much I really care about you.” Buggy squinted wondering what shenanigans he was up to now before Shanks went on one knee offering him he box. “What the fuck are you doing” Shanks opened the box revealing a bedazzled red clown nose. “Now we can match.” Buggy could feel a vein as he punched Shanks on the head. “ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF MY NOSE?!” “No i would never make fun of your nose its like a cherry-.” “SHUT THE FUCK UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP” Buggy stomped away with a face red from anger as Shanks followed him making the situation even worse. “Why do i even put up with you.” “Because you love me.” “Do I? Do i really?” Shanks gasped before slapping Buggy’s arm. “You don’t mean that, I know you love my fat tits.” He says with a smirk and a hair flip with sparkles coming out as buggy chokes. “Where the fuck did the glitter come from?!” “Come on Buggy you secretly like that I’m a Dilf don’t you.” “Where the hell did you learn that word.” “That’s not important and your dodging the question.” “I'M NOT DODGING SHIT.” Shanks had a shit eating grin on his face as Buggy failed to look anywhere but his direction. “I’m not listening to you right now.” “But Buggyyyyy, would you like this chicken leg i have in my pocket?” “Why the fuck do you have a chicken leg in your pocket,you know what I ain’t even gonna question anything with you.” Shanks pulled out a chicken leg wrapped poorly in a crinkled napkin as the grease bled through and offered it to Buggy with a wink. “I’m good but thanks I guess……” Buggy stared at that thing in Shanks hand before walking away. “Aww Buggy get back over her-“ Shanks is about to say before he sees the chicken from his hand suddenly gone as Luffy Licks the last of the grease from his fingers. “You thought you could hide the chicken from me, but I could smell it from a mile away” Shanks blinked before smiling and patting Luffy's head. “Good for you. Now Buggy get your Buggussy back over here.” “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Buggy yelled as he walked away faster. Luffy blinked in confusion as Shanks ran to catch up as he turned to his brothers and asked. “What’s a Bugussy?” Ace looked at Sabo and patted his shoulder. “This is all on you, I’m out.” Sabo took a breath before replying. “Don’t worry about it.” “Alright can we go to IHOP now, I’m hungry.”

Mihawk walked back into his Castle as he looked Perona in the eye before saying he is never picking up KFC for her ever again. “I need a drink” Before he could take a drink, he got a message from Shanks but before he could read it he immediately blocked his number. He sighed before finally taking a sip before getting another call. “Who the f-“ he reluctantly answered and was distressed at hearing Shanks' voice from the other end. “Come one Hawky you know I have multiple numbers.” Mihawk could only groan as he asked what the hell he wanted. “Thanks for paying my tab. I knew you were a real one, I have to go take a booty call now bye.” Mihawk stared at the message for a moment before rubbing his temples. “I’m going to bed. I can’t deal with this right now.” He closed his eyes for merely a moment before he heard another ring. “I’m going to kill him”

Zoro was standing in place looking around at the scenery that looked foreign to him. “Where the fuck am I?” He says before he sees a white haired man in the distance skipping towards him with a flowery aura. “What the absolute fuck” he says staring in confusion as he reads the sign of a building. “What the hell is a Jujutsu Sorcerer?!”

#one piece #shanks #buggy the clown #shuggy #dracule mihawk #asl brothers #monkey d. luffy #portgas d ace #buggy x shanks #one piece fic #kfc breakup #zoro lost #Gojo mention?#zoro lost in jjk

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