Disclaimer: Resident Evil doesn't belong to me, I belong to Resident Evil. Now, where did I put my medication?

La Mouette Lunaire proudly presents

Mountains of Joyous Syrup

The morning was sunny and glorious like the sun who is yellow. Birkin smiled with bright teeth of icy white on a mountain of snow. Birkin looked at Birkin's smile in the mirror and thought happy thoughts of joy. He brushed his hair which was golden like wheaten cereals of healthy goodness and was flowing from his head like birds gliding through the clouds of summer.

On Birkin's bed which was fluffy and soft and pink like a youthful kitten which is pink sat Wesker. Wesker was a man of great evil, malicious like a pregnant crocodile whose eyes shine like dark moons of deep and evil space. But he was also very handsome like a wild and meticulously combed wolf in the wild wilderness on the top of a fierce and radiantly blue mountain. Wesker stood up and was tall and broad like a majestic palm tree of juicy pineapples.

"The day which was the day before this day is erased from my memory like the wrong answer on the exam sheet of an eager student who strives to run towards Harvard like a deer towards the delicious blades of grass" exclaims Wesker and holds Weskers head which is booming from the dark inside like falling rocks into a silent valley beneath a golden mountain.

"Birkin's thoughts think than Birkin and Wesker had too much of the tequila which poured golden into their glasses and down their eager throats like molten lava from an angry volcano of fierce and hellish fire!" elucidates Birkin and brushes his teeth with a toothbrush that is like a brush which brushes teeth only used not in the form of one singular tooth but a wide cornucopia of shiny teeth which are in Birkin's mouth.

"Oh" mourns the doctor like an ancient door between two rooms that has not experienced the joy of oil for oh so long time. "I am happy like a young mother in a bright and radiantly shiny hospital full of happy people. Why are you not happy like Wesker is?" enquires Wesker.

"Oh!" mourns the doctor Birkin again like a hungry zombie who is hungry. "That is because I am hungry like a hungry zombie who mourns like the Birkin which is me because he is hungry!"

Wesker blinks like a fully functional traffic light on a busy road like humming bees and leaves the room. Birkin turns around an sees Wesker leave and is very sad because he sees that Wesker has left. Birkin feels very alone without Wesker who has left.

But in an instant, even shorter than the twitching of a sad little seagull who has lost her way in the strings of an evil ebony high voltage power pole, Wesker returns and is back there where he was before he went away from where he is now again. But Wesker is no longer alone like the proud wolf on the blazing mountain snow, he is in company like a pack of lions on the hot and golden soil of dried land.

"I have fetched you a plate on which a multitude of pancakes is located. They are fresh and steamy like a hot bath in the bubbly springs' of nature's bosom and golden like ink which is not ink but honey and flows brown like chocolate which is also hot and not ink but chocolate."

And in his arms Wesker holds the richly decorated plate of radiant silver and stretches out his arms to Birkins arms until they touch each other and both the plate of pancakes. Then they sit down on the bed which is wooden underneath like a forest of hulky pines. And Wesker brings forth the syrup and it flows down until it rejoices with the pancakes like a luscious river of sweet liquid sunlight.

And Birkin eats the pancakes together with Wesker who eats the pancakes too. And Birkin is happy with glee because he is not hungry anymore. And Wesker is happy too because he is out of character like a mongoose who has fallen into a raging stream of illegal substances which flow from a mountain that is wide and glorious.


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No, don't bother to call the men in the white coats. I'm okay, really. Okay and sane like the fierce mountain of- argh, alright! I'm off!