Oh, I was really considering him, although I was going to pair him with Team Rocket.

Maybe we'll have a double feature who knows
Here's a 100-word short story I wrote about Hellboy, the boy what came from Hell. It is roughly about my favorite thing about this dumb boy.
The sun was spitting hellfire, a hazy green fog was settling in, and some chump who didn’t know she was beat was blabbering on about destiny or whatever.

In other words, just a normal Tuesday for Hellboy.

“Anung Un Rama,” said the demon (Hellboy couldn’t remember her name; way too many consonants), “we both know how this ends. Fulfill your destiny as the Beast of the Apocalypse.”

“How about no, buddy?” said Hellboy. He picked up a log.

“You dare defy Hell? Traitor! I’ll destroy you!” She lunged.

Hellboy drove the log straight through her heart. “Right back atcha, pal.”
Just another Tuesday for Hellboy
Thank you! It's always nice to get a comment. Here's a crossover between Hellboy and Gravity Falls I wrote (warning for past character death):
Hellboy wiped the slime off his arm. “Ugh. Hate it when they start dripping like that.”

The jerk who started the whole mess stared at Hellboy blankly. “That was my brother. How could you? He was my brother.” He broke down sobbing.

“Hey.” Hellboy put an arm around the jerk’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, there wasn’t much of him left by the time I got here. Got all swallowed up by that demon or something.”

“It should have been *me*.” He turned to face Hellboy, furious. “*I* summoned that monster, it should have been me!” He broke off from Hellboy’s grip and pounded on the twisted, broken machinery on the floor.

“Hey!” Hellboy shouted. He yanked the jerk right off the floor and shook him. “Now listen here… uh…”

“Stanford.” He choked back a sob. “My name is Stanford.”

“Alright, Stan, listen--” (Stanford opened his mouth as if to protest, but then shut it with a remorseful look.) “--it’s been a rough day for us both, okay? I know it’s hard to deal with the death of a friend, but at least you’re still alive, right? I mean, that’s a better end than most folks who mess around with demons get.”

“Cold comfort.” Stanford slowly breathed in and out. “How am I supposed go on after—to, to deal with this?”

“You want my advice, pal?” Hellboy thumped him on the shoulder. “Stop messing with this stuff.” Together they walked out of the ruined basement.
That's a real nice one, Healy! I think that's pretty much how big red would act in that situation.

Sorry to keep you all waiting!

* * *

"In Downtown Tokyo, a girl stands out. A blonde one, even more so.

My name is Schala, but, I prefer to be called Kid."

The girl is eating a sandwich on a park bench. There is a half-empty can of Litchi and Watermelon soda beside her.

"I'm always looking for him. Through lifetimes, dimensions - we always seem to be just out of reach. But, I won't give up. He's out there somewhere."

She sighs, and scans the faces of all the businessmen walking to and fro. It is an endless sea of faces.

"I know, I will probably never find Serge. Perhaps, he is in not even in Japan. But, I can't help but feel, deep in my heart, he is-"

Suddenly, an explosion erupts nearby. She turns in shock, trying to see through the chaos of running people. There is... a monster?

"Hya ha ha! You Pathetic Power Rangers are in for it now! Destroy them, Putties!"

As she stands above the crowd on her bench, Kid can make out the form of some kinda of... humanoid. It's dressed like a witch, but... Also somewhat alien. She is surrounded by strange grey men who look like walking clay.

Through the chaos, she can also make out a group of 5 individuals dressed in vibrant colours, rushing towards thee creature.

"Hexarella! Stop this! What do you think you're doing!" yells out the one dressed in Red.

"The same thing I'm going to do to you! HAH!" Hexarella yells out, moving a large staff in front of her, and explosions blow the colorful men back.

"Hyah!" "Ugh!" "No!" "Agh!" "Nnng!"

"What the flying fuck is going on..?"

This went on for a while. The battle raged on, back and forth, both sides dealing blows. Eventually, all the 'Putties' were destroyed. By this time, the crowd on onlookers had dispersed and all that remained were the Power Rangers, Hexarella, and Kid watching transfixed at a distance.

Hexarella stood in front of the 5 Power Rangers, and gestured with her staff while saying, "Oh, you think you're Hot Stuff, eh? Wait till you see this new spell I've cooked up for you! Love-Love Curse! Uwee hee hee!"

Immediately they started to exaggeratedly stumble around and hold their heads.

"Oh no! My... mind! I can't..! Argh!"

Kid watched them slowly stop shaking, and then they all started touching each other in the most obscene ways.

Perhaps Kid had gotten too close to the action, but something started to bubble up inside her. Envy? Frustration? Magic? Maybe it was a bit of everything.

"Hey! Hey, it's been a while for me over here! I want in on that too!" Kid said, taking off her shoes and skipping gleefully into the undulating mass of rainbow bodies.

Silhouetted by the sun, the Green Ranger appeared. "Looks like you're in some trouble!" He said, turning so that is silhouette was now a side profile, revealing his body's full dimensions. "I've come to deliver!"

Hexarella seemed to sort of regret the situation entirely and just backed away out of personal shame.

"I'll... I'll just come back and try again later."

* * *

Kid woke up in her cramped apartment in Shibuya. Had it all been a dream? Maybe her long journey was just getting to her? She decided a nice hot shower was just what she needed.

When she got out, she happened to glance at her bathroom mirror. In finely traced letters, the fog of the shower revealed a message:

"Call me: XXX-XXX-XXXX
~Pink Ranger~ (Kim)"

Kid sighed, "Dammit, why do I always attract girls?"
I'd really like to get rid of LockeZ. His play style is way too unpredictable. He's always like this too. If he ran a country, he'd just kill and imprison people at random until crime stopped.
I've just invented a brand new original chararacter, do not steal, his name is Carl Winslow the Hedgehog. He is an overweight black-furred hedgehog cop and a loving family man. Please enjoy this fanfiction about him.

"HARRIETTE WINSLOW THE HEDGEHOG! Harriette Winslow the Hedgehog, why is your mother at the front door with an armful of suitcases!?" yelled Carl Winslow the Hedgehog as he stomped up the stairs looking for an explanation from his wife.

However she wasn't upstairs, she was still at work or something. When Carl Winslow the Hedgehog got back downstairs some ten seconds later, his mother-in-law had already let herself in, unpacked and started watching a soap opera on TV. She was a hedgehog so she was very fast. A laugh track played to indicate the humor of the situation.

Carl Winslow the Hedgehog tried to plead with his mother-in-law for a while to get her not to move in but she acted like she misunderstood everything he said and kept thanking him for letting her move in. Then suddenly a musical chord played and the audience clapped and cheered for a few seconds because Steve Urkel the Fox showed up and accidentally broke something while flying around the room with his three fox tails (having three tails instead of two makes him a totally unique type of character not seen before in any Sonic the Hedgehog materials), providing the final straw which caused Carl Winslow the Hedgehog to fly into a rage.

"Did I do thaaaaaat?" asked Steve Urkel the Fox as he landed and tugged on his suspenders. "Oh Steve, not again!" said the mother-in-law the Hedgehog. I'm referring to her that way because I don't remember her name and don't want to look it up right now because I'm late for dinner, sorry, I'll try to find it before I do the next story. Steve Urkel the Fox snorted a few times, then he invented something and flew away.
Guess I will have a go at it.

Rikku x Rikyu
Note: This will have Yuri in it. So, if you are not into it then you probably should not read it. If you are under 18 it is probably best not to read it.

"Wolf! I told you to stop with your deluded fantasies. The reason your novel is inadequate is due to the simple fact that no one--"

"Hehe. I think someone is jealous," Rikku said.

"Why would you think that?" Rikyu asked as she stared deep into Rikku's eyes.

As Rikku stared into Rikyu's she saw her life being stripped away. Staring into Rikyu's eyes was like staring into a black hole.

"Well..." Rikku was at a lost for words.

"Look Rikyu, you know your my greatest character I have created. I mean, you started out as a sixteen year with a 314 I.Q. You became so amazing that I even created a mock religion after you."

"Skip to the point Wolf."

"You would have never been born if it was not for my love of Rikku."

"So, I guess you could think of me as your mother," Rikku said with a smile.

"No, that is not possible as Wolf would never have sex with any girl. He has a fear of sex and--"

"Okay, let's just skip the talk about me for once."

"Fine, then why are we here Wolf?"

"Yeah, why are we here Wolfy?"

"Simple, both of you are here to make out with each other."

"I knew it. You just wanted to use us for your own desires."

"I am completely okay with that," Rikku said.

"Please, Rikyu. Do it just this once for me?"

"How about I tell everyone your personal information? Maybe I could tell them all your secret fetishes. I did not study psychology at the age of five for nothing Wolf. I know you."

"Awwie, Rikyu, that is so mean," Rikku said as she took a step closer to Rikyu.

"Her weakness is her nipples, Rikku."

Rikku let out a devilish smile as she made her way towards Rikyu.

"Well, Wolf has a--"

Suddenly, Rikyu let out a soft moan as she could feel Rikku fingers gently pinching them.

"Damn it, Wolf has a huge--"

Again before Rikyu could finish her sentence Rikku's lips were planted firmly against hers. Rikku gently pinned Rikyu down onto the bed still locking lips with her.

"Thank you, Rikku," Wolf said as he sat back in a chair and watched.

Rikku gently bit Rikyu's lip as she let out another soft moan. This continued for several minutes.

"Okay, well I think this short story is done. Anything you two want to say to everybody?"

The two continued to make out ignoring Wolf.
LockeZ, showing us how it's done like the master he is. I bow to you, Sir.

BlackWolf, also excellent wolf! You should write in that other awesome fanfiction thread we've got goin on!
Eh, I was just making it up as I went. I honestly hate writing...even though I manage to read a 43 chapter light novel.

But thank you Hexatona. Sure, why not. Do not be suprised if I write more Yuri. That is one of my laws, there must always be a Yuri scene or else it was not made by Wolf.
The Empire's Finest

Two Imperial Storm Troopers stand, guarding the dusty entrance to a weapons cache no one had used in 30 years, on a planet that only makes it on to the Galactic World Registry two out of three times. Between the humid weather, the persistent insects, and the lengthy alternating storms of dust and slimy rain they contemplated (on a daily basis) the life choices that had brought them here.

"I'm going to look inside today. I'm going to do it, Brand." said the first Storm Trooper. They both remained stoically facing forward.

"That's what you always say, Cykes. And I'm going to tell you, they're gonna notice. There's probably some wall of lights some idiot has to watch, and every time one blinks on, he fills out three stacks of paper work that will eventually lead right back to us."

"What worse post could we possibly get?" This got a reaction from Brand, who actually turned to face his friend.

"Are you kidding me? Do you want me to answer that question?"

Cykes sighed. Then, he said, "Well... I think I hear a noise. We'd better check it out."

Brand sighed even louder. "Are you sure you heard something? A big part of me really doesn't want to ruin the mystery. I rather like the idea that this is like some secret entrance to some kind of amazing super secret weapons research."

"... Yup, still hear the noise."

There was nothing left to say. They nodded briskly to each other, took up a formation for appearances sake, and entered the code to enter.

Inside, it was pitch black. "Identify yourself!" shouted Cykes. There was no response. "Hey, find a light switch, will ya?"

Brand fumbled long the wall, trying to feel something through his armor. Finally, a light came on.

They each stared in shock and despair.

Rows and rows of racks, shelves, cases. Dusty, knocked over, broken.


"Brand?" Cykes said, his weapon dangling by his side.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Thanks for sticking up for me when I did the thing that time. I... I really appreciate it, you know? More than I can really say."

Brand put his arm on his friend's shoulder. "It's alright, man. We win together, we fuck up together."


700 meters below the surface

A man at a terminal suddenly looks up and calls out. "Commander. They entered the cache."

A short, thin man with a scarred, hawkish face walked over the the terminal, holding s cup of coffee, and regarded the screen for a few moments. "How long has it been?"

The man at the terminal thought a moment, and then answered, "Just over four years, Sir."

The Commander scowled slightly while looking at the furthest wall. "Damn, looks like Rico won the pool."
More Gravity Falls fanfic, featuring everyone's favorite Grunkles Stan and Ford.

“So, what did you miss the most?” asked Stan. “Y’know, out there.”

Ford sighed and took another sip from his drink. “Honestly?” he said. “I think it was you. You or Fiddleford, but probably you. It got so bad sometimes that I started seeing you everywhere--every crowd, every street. I think I was so obsessed with Bill that… I just couldn’t process losing you again. And after…” He stopped. Wetness filled his eyes.

“Oh, wow.” Stan was silent a moment. Then he spoke up again. “Sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Ford laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”
I should probably watch GF some time
Do it! It's good. Pretty funny. Not as much focus on the olda guys as I've made out here. Pretty great if you like twins.
If you like twins, eh? uggcf://fbhaqtnfz.arg/h/fnffznfgnu77/SS4Z-fpevcg-svyy-Qrsybjrevat-Gur-Gjvaf-ivetvavgl-vqragvpny-gjva-fvfgref-guerrfbzr-tveeeey-svvvtug-oybjwbo-genvavat-ovanheny-fpevcg-rqvgvat-ol-hehoore_sbny

Hmm... Time for some more terrible fiction. GODS GUIDE MY DICE

2d20 -> 14, 1

Goddammit 14 again!? How many times....

Fine. Funguy + Zelda
Did somebody says Twins? and Yuri? :D no....just me? Well, bummer.

Hex, you forgot the ritual before you roll your dice remember?

Shake, blow, shake, chant to the dice gods, shake and roll. With this you always roll a critical.

"Do you have a problem with my advisor, Miss Chancellor?" said The High Princess of Hyrule, Zelda, imperiously from atop her dais. The other members of the court turned to watch. To Zelda's right and close to her side, a strange man, with the head of a mushroom stood.

The Chancellor, slightly disturbed by her Majesty's tone, continued, "Well, you're Majesty, it is merely that I do not fully comprehend-"

"Miss Chancellor, please approach the dais." When the Chancellor did as her Majesty bid, Zelda leaned in closely and spoke in a near-whisper. "Mr. Funguy advices me in private matters, Miss Chancellor." Conspiratorially, Zelda looked about to ensure no-one could possibly overhear. "Let me simply say this: His head isn't the only thing shaped like a mushroom." Zelda then gave her Chancellor a significant look.

Now, speaking more publicly, Zelda said, "Has my explanation satisfied you, Miss Chancellor?"

The Chancellor levelled a slightly envious glance in Funguy's direction before quickly lowering her eyes and saying, "Yes. Thank you, your Majesty."

"Very well. Court is dismissed for today," Zelda said, before turning to her Advisor. "I need to consult with my advisor."

Secret Ending:

"Well, Doctor?" Zelda asked.

The doctor looked at his chart and said, "Well, it's not a disease, just a fungal infection. Apply this cream twice a day for two weeks. Let me know if your condition worsens."

The TM is for Totally Magical.
Alright...been writing some Star Wars fan-fic.


The handle rested in her hand. It was small, but quite heavy. She held down the hilt and pressed the ignition trigger. With a whooshing hiss, the lightsaber burned to life.

“No, Snips, turn it off.”

Ahsoka did as she was told, releasing the pressure grip, causing the blade to flash out of existence. “But Master, how am I supposed to practice without my saber?”

Anakin looked down at Ahsoka, his eyebrows raised. “Learning how to defend yourself and those around you is more than just learning how to fence. It's learning to judge your surroundings, learning to feel the world around you, learning to understand that there is a time for everything. Every action you take, every misstep, every ill-conceived maneuver can be that one mistake that tips the balance of the battle in favor of your enemy. Even something as simple as activating your lightsaber too soon. Don't be too eager for a fight, Snips. You've got nothing you have to prove to me or to anyone, except yourself. Now, before you ignite your blade, I want you to reach out with the Force and feel your surroundings.”

Ahsoka did as she was told. They were in a forest clearing on Naboo. The grass rose to her ankles and the trees along the edges of the clearing were widely spaced. A gentle breeze caressed her arm and cheek from the west, causing her lekku to gently sway as they dangled down her shoulders from her montral. Scutta crawled all around, too tiny to see without careful examination. Several leaves fell from the trees, signaling that summer had drawn to an end. As she closed her eyes, she could hear the falling leaves chatter in the wind, the wondrous music they made filling her with joy. The life all around her was exhilarating. With each moment, she felt the life add to her own, making her feel more alive.

Then something alien intruded. It was a metal abomination, its suspensors humming as it came closer. The scutta, sensing its presence, changed the direction in which they worked. Air blew around it, changing the pattern of the leaves, turning their harmony into chaos. With it's appearance, everything that had been right in the Force was suddenly wrong. As she was preparing to leave her trance, another alien thing entered her perception. Two abominations, identical in every way! The nearest one stopped, hovered for a moment, and she could sense its energy, its meager power, still quite capable of making her life miserable for a brief moment in time.

A single click from the metal monstrosity was the signal. It was as if everything had stopped and the Force had focused like a laser upon that single moment, upon that single sound, at that single space, and in that single focal point, Ahsoka ignited her lightsaber, deflecting the blaster fire from two practice remotes. The green blade bathed Ahsoka in its light as she expertly dodged, ducked, and deflected the beams. As quickly as it had begun, so it had ended. The practice remotes dropped to the ground, Anakin having deactivated them.

He stood in front Ahsoka, a pleased expression on his face. “Tell me, Padawan Tano, what did you learn?”

Ahsoka thought for a moment. “Master, everything has a rhythm and in order to understand it and ultimately master it, we must find our place within that rhythm.” Anakin's eyebrows raised, silently urging her to continue. She took a moment to think of what impact the remotes had had on her surroundings. “That which does not align to the rhythm is unwelcome. If we become one with the rhythm...one with the Force, then we can see how nature tries to restore its rhythm and it makes us part of that effort. In this way, we can do more than just fight, but also restore a balance that was disturbed by the fight.”

“Very good. Why was it necessary to wait before igniting your lightsaber?”

“The lightsaber has a will of its own, but it's still technology. It didn't have a place in the rhythm until that rhythm was disrupted. Sir, this wasn't actually remote practice, was it?”

Anakin smiled. “No. Of course, you should always keep in practice, but you're good enough that you clearly understand how to use the Force for defense. I thought it was a good idea to use your practice time to teach you some other lessons. Always remember; become part of your surroundings and you will be best suited to defending them.”

Ahsoka smiled and closed her eyes. She always found that rhythm, but a new rhythm had insinuated itself upon her. A heavy, mechanical breathing. This new rhythm did not disrupt the rhythm of its surroundings, nor did it become a part of it: it subdued it. It conquered it. Ahsoka opened her eyes and stared into the empty of eyes of that black mask, beneath it, the shadow of a man she thought she knew. She was no longer on Malachor. She was surrounded by darkness, standing in a technological nightmare, standing before the man that had once been her master, the man that had once been a brother to her.

“Anakin Skywalker was weak. I destroyed him!” His voice was as black as his mask, his helmet, his cape. It was full of menace. Meanwhile, the suit maintained his breath, so even as he spoke, that rasp continued uninterrupted.

Ahsoka could feel her anger burning, threatening to consume her. But more than the anger was the sense of betrayal. She could sense nothing of Anakin beneath that helmet. He had completely lost himself in the darkness. Anakin was beyond the light; beyond salvation. “Then I shall avenge his death.”

“Revenge is not the Jedi way.”

“I am no Jedi.”

Ahsoka extended her lightsabers, so different from the green and yellow sabers she once held. She ignited them and lunged, bathing her in their silver light, clashing with the red of Vader's lightsaber. Here, on Malachor, Naboo was a distant memory, just like Anakin. The room was filled with hard angles and sharp lines. A mechanical throb, barely perceptible with the ordinary senses, but pounding in the Force, emanated from the room's center. It pounded in rhythm with the breathing, acquiescing to it, submitting. Nevertheless, despite the power of the breathing, the rhythm, the flow was disrupted as the holocron was taken from the temple. Vader's rhythm broke and he focused on the holocron.

Ahsoka maintained her rhythm. Still, his power was far greater than hers, though her skill was such that she could match him blow for blow. She was able to briefly take the upper hand, shattering a piece of his mask, and Anakin was there, alive, a faint memory. For a moment, Ahsoka thought she could get through to him. But his memory wasn't filled with the longing for simpler times and a return to the way things were. It was filled with resent, and a desire to utterly destroy the remnants of happier times. The Sith temple closed with tremendous force--everything about the place was needlessly violent--, the shock separating them. When she regrouped and prepared to face him again, he was gone.

The darkness that followed was the blackest yet, but it wasn't on the mask or in his voice. It was inside of her. The battle with Darth Vader had cost her soul. It was the pain, the guilt, the understanding. It was the realization, finally, that the world she knew was gone. It was the realization that the life she knew was a lie. It was the realization that she was no longer relevant. Ahsoka Tano had finally died, fulfilling Vader's promise.
I didn't even know who Ahsoka was, but damn that was beautiful. Well done, piano.
The TM is for Totally Magical.
Thank you!

If you've got Netflix, you should really take a look at Clone Wars. Ahsoka Tano has become a cross-generational bridge. Old fans and new know her and she's one of the most popular Star Wars characters for good reason. Clone Wars succeeded where the prequels failed.
Every misdeed has its own punishment, and every good deed has its reward.
For the sake of the holiday, I have decided to include somewhat of a Christmas story. However, this is somewhat of a prequel to the fanfiction entries I've posted here in the aspect that it tells why this guy left the United States and adventured elsewhere.

The other characters featured here are Trevor's old friend Michael, his newer friend Ron, his dopey friend Wade, and an original character you might see as an NPC in a rather enjoyable VN one day. ;)

A word of caution: this has unethical things happen at the start, sad things happen towards the end. Perhaps the saddest you'll see on this thread.

Trevor woke from his unpleasant slumber, letting out a hostile grumble at the sound of a freight train's horn echoing from a distance that wasn't exactly far away from his position. The sociopathic criminal quickly realized he had fallen asleep on the tracks, and rolled aside knowing it would spare him from a mortifying death. Trevor threw aside his empty bottle of whiskey, and forced himself to stand up in spite of his dazed condition.

"Well, at least I'm in the right county!" Trevor said to himself confidently, satisfied that he was near Sandy Shores. The mentally unstable individual limped over to his pickup truck situated on the road, ignoring the enormous amount of dirt that covered it.

Trevor clumsily placed his hands over the passenger door, and forced it open to reveal the limp body of a man dressed as Santa Clause, which temporarily caught his attention.

"Oh yeah, it's that one time of the year where I'm supposed to be shopping!" Trevor proclaimed in excitement, throwing the seemingly dead male out of his truck. "And punishing the assholes who put themselves on my naughty list! Now, Mr. Philips will pay each of those jerks a visit!"

Trevor hopped in the driver's seat of his personal vehicle, and turned the ignition key to start up the engine. Without even thinking about a precise destination, he drove off to pursue the last of his enemies that remained in San Andreas, and satisfy himself for the rest of the year.
Another possibly miserable Christmas with Trevor. I've been looking forward to this for years, Michael thought sarcastically, cringing at Trevor's rusty trailer. I don't know what I'm fucking doing here. He says that he's gonna stay the hell away from my house if I join him, but we all know that's not gonna fucking happen. Knowing my luck, I end up doing something that's going to piss him off and he'll come up my ass yet again.

Michael grumbled to himself in disgust, and turned back to his sedan before seeing what seemed to be a lonely male biker standing across the street. The young man was busy conversing with a local homeless woman, who suddenly shouted a random profanity and stormed off in a hurry.

"Screw it, I'm not going in there!" Michael told himself, stomping over to his car's trunk and swiping the large package containing Trevor's gift. The former bank robber dragged the package over to the front door, and rudely dropped it on what acted as the welcome mat.

Michael began pounding on the door with his fists hoping he would catch the occupant's attention and get this over with, as his patience for dealing with Trevor was already gone despite the fact that he was planning on skipping the event.

Before he had the opportunity to yell, Michael saw the door swing open with Ron standing in the entrance, frowning at Michael as he usually did during each of their encounters. Wade was also inside of the deteriorating trailer, smoking whatever foul substance Trevor had left unattended.

"What do you want, Michael...?" Ron sighed in disgust, clearly ready to slam the door on his face.

"Look, I'm not in the mood for any crap today. I just want to have one Christmas Eve without any bullshit for once," Michael stated firmly before pointing at the package. "That's for Trevor. Don't tell him I came here, and I won't come back to put you in a coma. Okay?"

Instead of giving a vocal response, Ron simply grabbed the package and tossed it onto the couch without hesitation. Ron obviously didn't want Michael anywhere near the trailer, and he was making that clearer every second.

"Just go away, alright?!" Ron demanded nervously, unaware that the door was closing behind them. "We don't need any more of your c-"

Ron discontinued his sentence once the trailer's door was sealed, and gasped when he tried to open it. The door appeared to be locked from the inside, and it seemed that the paranoid old man had no way of opening it.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Ron chanted in terror, clutching the sides of his head in complete fear. "If Trevor finds out that Wade is in there by himself, he'll torture the shit out of me! Or worse..."

"He'll stick a lump of coal up your ass for being a naughty boy?" Michael joked before walking back to his car.

"No, he'll do something worse than THAT!" the worried elder replied before running up to Michael, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "Michael, you gotta help me! You know what Trevor will do if he thinks I endangered Wade! Let me stay in your house for a few days, or-"

"Look pal, I got no reason to help you. I have a family and I wanted out of Trevor's crazy shit long before I met you," Michael pointed out harshly. "Trevor's chaos isn't just with crime, it's in everything and I don't want my Christmas ruined by his antics. You're on your own."

"Fine," Ron snorted in disgust as he attempted to pull out his phone, stopping briefly to ask Michael a question. "What exactly did you get Trevor?"

"I just got him a pet anaconda," Michael quickly replied, feeling uneasy that Ron would ask him that. "Why are you asking? Is he going to make you feed her, or-"

Michael discontinued speaking when Ron hysterically dialed a number on his phone, running from Trevor's dysfunctional friend as if expecting a morbid conflict.

"Whatever," Michael commented carelessly, returning to his vehicle expecting this to be the last of today's drama.

"Oh, Mikey Townley's got us a snake!" Wade announced happily from within the trailer, instantly getting on Michael's nerves. "Is this here a girl snake? I can't see no woman parts on here!"

I'm getting the fuck outta here, Michael grumbled within his mind, racing towards his vehicle as fast as he possibly could. The former criminal was pleased that he left the engine on, and hopped in the driver's seat as he slammed the door shut.

Without any sort of pause, Michael sped away in his sedan hoping that no police would follow him, and was quickly free of the trailer park.
"Argh...that's what I fucking get for not filling up the damn tank before drinking," Trevor snarled quietly as he refueled his truck, thankful that there was a gas station near his home. "I only got one present for my friends, and it's-"

Trevor stopped at the sound of his phone's default ringtone, and plucked it from his pocket to see that Ron was calling. Sensing that something wasn't right, the psychopath answered with a disturbed expression and cringed when his best friend began shouting at him.

"Trevor, it's fucking horrible!" Ron yelled hysterically, sounding almost incoherent due how quickly he was speaking. "You gotta get home, it's-"

"...would you CALM THE FUCK DOWN?!" Trevor bellowed fiercely, using the commanding tone that usually caused his lackeys to submit to him. "I'm at the fucking gas station near the trailer filling up my truck, and I'm almost done. Now, what's so important that you have to call me screaming like a little girl?"

"Michael got you an anaconda for Christmas, and he left it inside with Wade!" Ron answered frantically.

"Oh shit...!" Trevor cursed under his breath, hanging up without saying anything and ending the process of refueling his vehicle.

Trevor jumped into the driver seat of his truck, and made an attempt to restart the engine. The quick-tempered criminal was met with momentary resistance as the engine failed to activate at first, though it quickly started back up after a few seconds.

"Fucking finally...!" Trevor growled in irritation, stomping on the gas once he knew the truck would respond. The vehicle sped away from the gas station, and quickly brought its owner back to his home, which was now the setting for a somewhat disturbing scene.

Trevor saw a team of paramedics standing outside his trailer watching an animal control unit trying to get inside, failing as they were apparently too unintelligent to succeed in the task.

"Out of the way, you morons!" Trevor shouted, nearly running them over with his truck as he stopped a few inches away from the stairs.

Trevor made a distasteful leap towards the front door, and pulled out his pistol in hopes that he would shatter the lock. To his misfortune, the gun was jammed and unable to fire any rounds at its target.

"God fucking dammit!" Trevor yelled in frustration, enraged at how long it was going to take to open the door. The sociopathic troublemaker froze at the sound of Wade talking to the anaconda, and shuddered at what was more than likely happening to his friend.

"Hey snakey, why are you putting your mouth on me? I thought animals weren't supposed to eat them owners," Wade said to the predator, unaware that it could kill him. "Ooooohhhhhh, so you are a girl snake! That explains that weird thingy you got hanging in there. Oh wait...that ain't no sex organ."

"WADE, GET OUT OF THERE!" Trevor roared as loudly as he possibly could without any rationality, the volume being completely unintentional.

"God...is that you right there standing to me...and...talking? Why do you look like that one guy who played you in Bruce Almighty?" Wade asked weakly, his voice quivering and somewhat small. "What do you mean it's time to come home? I'm in Sandy Shores right now, aren't I?"

Trevor fell to his knees, dropping his gun knowing that his friend was now doomed. Wade was going to die, and there was nothing Trevor could do to save him.

"Oh...okay then...can I...say...good...bye to...Trevor...and..." Wade struggled to say before becoming completely silent.

Trevor slowly plucked his weapon off of the floor, and practically limped towards his truck. Even though he didn't actually see what was happening, he knew Wade was dead and the person responsible for it.

The former air-force pilot sat down in the driver's seat of his truck in sadness, watching the men finally open the door and enter his trailer.

In less than a few seconds, the law enforcers brought the mangled body of the anaconda outside, and the paramedics carried Wade's barely mummified corpse with it. Trevor took a closer look at their vehicle, and saw that Ron had been struck on their way to the scene.

Trevor began sobbing at the death of his friends, feeling an intense amount of despair that he would remember for the rest of his life.
Michael was enjoying his peaceful drive so far, almost completely forgetting about the drama with Ron. Michael hoped the usual soap opera-like garbage would be absent this time, and his family would actually appreciate his gifts for once.

Regardless of how they would act, Michael was fully aware that it would be better than dealing with the disaster imposed by Devin Weston before Michael and Trevor assisted Franklin in killing him, and ending that nightmare the three suffered through. Michael was purely convinced that it was over, until he saw that Trevor was calling him on his phone.

"What's up, T?" Michael asked with a polite tone, expecting some kind of answer that was ruthlessly unpleasant.

"Someone's on my naughty list for using a FUCKING SNAKE to kill Wade! Guess who it is?!" Trevor yelled brutally, sounding like he had recently been crying.

"W-Wait, he's dead?!" Michael shouted in response. "The stupid fucker actually opened the package?"

"That snake was probably meant to kill me, wasn't it?!" Trevor continued as if he was ignoring Michael's statement. "Do you know what happens to a Grinch when he uses a Christmas gift to kill people? Look at your rear view window for the answer, Mikey!"

Trevor hung up before Michael could answer, creating an unsettling silence for the aging movie producer. Looking at the rear view window, Michael noticed his friend's signature pickup truck racing towards his sedan at a shocking speed.

Michael slammed on the gas pedal, and sped away knowing what was going to happen if Trevor reached him.

"This is the worst Christmas Eve I've had in the last twenty years!" Michael hissed to himself, horrified that Trevor was still catching up with him.

Michael now had numerous things on his mind, the most notable one being how he was going to survive this chase. Trevor now blamed Michael for the death of yet another friend, although this one was considerably more personal than the last for some reason, and Michael knew that Trevor wasn't going to let this one go.

The sedan briefly shook in response to something hitting it from behind, triggering Michael to look in the rear view mirror once again to confirm his suspicions.

Trevor's truck was within ramming distance, and it was possible that he wanted Michael dead, or seriously injure him at least. The truck hit Michael's car once again, sending it spinning off of the road.

The sedan struck the railing that separated the road from the dirt cliffs, and flipped over the edge in a dramatic fashion, leaving Michael wondering if he was about to join Wade in the afterlife.
Trevor slowed down towards the edge of the road, stopping to witness the results of the crash. To his amazement and vexation, Michael's car was still in one piece despite the brutal nature of the crash.

The operational sedan drove off in a hurry now that Michael knew how Trevor felt about the saddening events of the day. The lonesome criminal began sobbing once again; two of his friends were dead, and Michael was going to tell Franklin about this for sure.

Once their younger friend knew that Trevor attempted to kill Michael, it was more than likely that their friendship was going to end and Lamar would perhaps break his friendship with Trevor also.

The former Canadian Air-force pilot slumped in his chair, unable to control his sorrow and utter heartbreak. Trevor had never felt more alone in his life, and the holiday would without a doubt be miserable from here on out.

"Excuse me...sir?" the voice of a young boy said from nearby. Trevor struggled to glance at the direction of the voice, and noticed what looked like a friendly twelve year old staring at him.

The boy appeared to be physically fit, although his muscle mass lacked clarity for whatever reason. His skin was dark to an extent, and lacked any sort of damage. His hair was relatively dark, and the irises of his eyes seemed to have a lavender hue for whatever reason.

The preteen had a robe worn over whatever kind of shirt he was wearing, and it did seem he was wearing pants underneath, though Trevor couldn't tell what they were. The boy also seemed to have somehow stolen the leather boots from wherever Johnny had lived before the biker's horrid death.

"Are you alright? Do you need help with something?" the boy politely asked in legitimate concern, clearly worried for Trevor.

"I'm...I'm all alone," Trevor sobbed miserably, looking away from the child in shame. "After today...I won't have any friends left!"

"Not quite..." the unknown boy countered with a positive tone. Trevor stopped crying upon hearing those words, and snapped to attention. The criminal took a glance at the newcomer, who was now smiling at him.

"Come with me," the boy told him in an optimistic manner. "You won't have to spend tomorrow or the rest of your life all by yourself."

Trevor watched the stranger walk towards a limo of sorts, waving as if he wanted Trevor to follow it.

In spite of today's losses, it seemed there was still hope for Trevor to enjoy his Christmas as well as improve his life.

Although he knew nothing about the newcomer, Trevor had a feeling that his life was soon going to change forever.

Regardless of what the change would bring, he knew that it would lead to a brighter future.

Next time, you'll see someone I made that you might take a liking to. ;)