You sit in your living room late at night
This is it
It’s just gonna be you and whoever the canaries send
You here your front door’s lock being picked
show time
“The doors unlocked just come in “
The door swings open and in walks the entire freak-show
led by captain neckbeard himself wearing a t-shirt depicting smut of the comic book character Black canary
Camouflage pajama pants
And bright orange crocs
The neckbeard
Holds up a foal-in-a~can
He pushes up his glasses a begins speaking in a nasally voice
“You have a choice this foal life or the life of your mega fluffy!”
The oven timer beeps
“Brownies are done”
You excuse yourself for a moment and return with a platter of freshly baked brownies
You pinch off the corner of a brownie and pop it into your mouth
You hold out the platter in a gesture of offering
You and the rest of captain neckbeard’s mob watch gobsmacked as
He tosses the foal-in-a~can to the floor
and shovels the entire platter of brownies down his gullet
Well this was definitely not how you had expected events to unfold
One of the goons angrily starts berating captain neckbeard
“ SAM! What the hell?!
Those were for ALL of us!”
Captain neckbeard looks at everyone in confusion
“I’m the leader so I get the peace offering right?”
The room goes deathly silent as both you and the goons come to a realization
“…Sam? Do you not know what an edible is?….”
The gears in Sam’s head turn as he slowly understands what just happened
A look of horror washes over his face
“Sam are you okay? There’s no way the brownies have hit you yet. It takes at least….”
The goon is interrupted by the neckbeard’s screaming
“IM SO SCREWED!!!
MY MOM IS GOING TO KILL ME!!!”
Captain neckbeard runs out of your house
All the while screaming about how his mom is going to kick him out for partaking in the devil’s lettuce
One of the goons walks up to you
“Yeah…. So… we”
A group of shadows loomed over him
The goon looks up to see a group of
very large
Very burly
Bikers
Standing right behind him
You smile
“Leaving. You were just leaving”
You pick the foal-in-a-can
Up off the floor
get him cleaned up and feed him some milk
As the bikers “escort” your uninvited guests off the premises
You try to think of a name for the little foal
His colors reminded you of old computer game you played with your dad growing up .
A wave of nostalgia hits you as you know exactly what to name him
“Trantor”