AN:/ I was going to give up on this, citing everything I've ever written as crap. Then I realized that this whole idea was complete crap anyway but kinda funny. Then it hit me that maybe sporks make a fun squishing noise when you stab them into your own eye sockets. Then after the sporking incident, I thought why the hell not. HERE SHE IS. Leave reviews and tell me how much you miss me. Maybe I'll write some more. I'm bored. No really, my life is meaningless without fanfiction.

A Very Horrible Thing Indeed

Cheer up, EMO kid!

VIII

Jimmy kicked pebbles along the ground. Johnny was in a legendary mope, muttering to himself and hissing at dirt balls that passed them, as trucks and other vehicles whizzed by them on the road.

“There’s an auto rent place another mile,” Jimmy said trying to be helpful.

Johnny glared at him murderously. He was trying very hard not to talk and with Jimmy around, that was something akin to a Herculean feat.

“I can’t even vent my spleen without causing HORRIBLE UNDEAD STOMACH DEATH!” Johnny snarled.

“What about spleens?” Jimmy said in an overly perky voice.

“AARRGHHHH!!” Johnny shrieked, employing a very large chunk of cement to bash Jimmy’s brains out.

Of course, Jimmy was back to his normal irritating self, in all of five minutes but at least it made Johnny feel somewhat accomplished.

Hours later, after a minor pit stop at a rent-a-car and some ‘negotiation’ by Johnny using a rusty muffler and a deck of playing cards, they were back on the road. After an incident where Jimmy almost drove them off of the highway because of a newfound zest for running over roadkill again just to hear it squish, and retaliation from Johnny who learned to maim using a road map in new and creative ways, they ended up at another incredibly shitty motel. This one however, didn’t have a convenience store, alcohol temptation or anything remotely comfort related. Even the television had an annoying static tick that kept either of them from watching it for long.

“This sucks,” Jimmy said, grumpily.

“Congratulations,” Johnny grunted, “Welcome to my existence with you everyday.”

“Wow,” Jimmy said, “You’re a real jerk.”

Johnny sank deeper into the threadbare chair, wondering if he could zot someone out of existence through will alone.

A significant amount of time later, Nny cracked en eyelid. Somehow, in the midst of static ticks, Jimmy’s irrational need to sing in the shower and mulling over just how incredibly shitty his life had become (which considering how shitty it was before, was absolutely mind blowing), Johnny had fallen asleep.

A non gore infested hallucinatory dream, how interesting, he pondered,Wait a second…

Did he just do what he thought he had in said dream? Oh yes!

And if ever a blood curdling shriek ripped forth from dear Johnny's throat at any time, it was a thousand times worse now. Across the hall to the bathroom his skinny self went at lightening speed, trying to ignore the creepy feeling below his waist, rushing past the bed where Mmy had flaked out.

"Mmy! GAH! WHY??!! In the name of all that is MEATY?! WHY??!!"

He rushed past the antiseptic creams, tylenol and benadryl to no avail.

"There must be some somewhere," he panicked, " must be-ee!!"

Ah there was his holy grail of retribution. Mouthwash! He swigged it, and swished it, making horrible retching sounds of disgust. He had to burn that imaginary taste out of his mouth, dream or not. He had to assert his ...well not really masculinity, considering.

More like his rapidly disintegrating pride.

Spitting out the germ death in the sink, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Pale, skinny, worn. Yup, still himself despite the touch feely dream thing he had experienced during an accidental slumber.

However, there was a slight addition below the waist, something he hadn't felt awaken since going batshit and leaving art school.

Upon uncomfortably shifting foot to foot squirming in his tight jeans, it was revealed as the ever horrible M.H.O. most males experienced everyday. Seemed like his organic side was waking up again, which was disconcerting and relieving all at once. Horrible as it was, that would explain the dream; just his biology taking advantage of his exhaustion, putting actual perversions in his head for a change. Nothing to worry about no...unless it had some deeper psychological implication...

"Hey Nny!"

"EEE!!"

He squealed and crossed his legs, promptly noting how retarded he probably looked with mouthwash in one hand, clutching the decrepit shower curtain in the other, with squirming thighs and a look of absolute horror on his face.

"No rush Nny, but when you're done I wanna shower!" Jimmy said perkily.

"Uh...sure..." Nny said staring wide eyed, locked in the same position.

He vaguely wondered how anyone could shower that much and still manage to look like an acne ridden grease ball. Then his brain went on a fun little trip to a Jimmy filled porno land, almost instantaneously.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!"