Title: Puckbeth

Author: Hatty

Rating: T (for the mention of "MILF" : O oh, and gayboy : O)

Fandom: gLeeeeeee

Pairing(s): Gen. Minor Kurt/Puck if you're nitpicking.

Warnings: Puck on crack, references Shakespeare's Scottish play (yes, that one).

Notes: From a challenge, the first sentence comes from this German book I think? I modified it to suit hungover!Puck.

Puck's eyes felt as if someone had taken them out overnight, dipped them into vinegar and reinserted them sideways. He was incapable of opening them. When he did, he winced as a sharp pain pierced the back of his eyes. He immediately shut them. Then proceeded to push them further into their sockets in the hopes that he'd either pass out once more, or that miraculously the pain would subside and the mortifying kaleidoscope of Kurt's leotard-clad legs would disappear. Black, Red, Lime Green, Leopard, Polka-dot, Fluf- He shouldn't be knowing these things. Honestly, one would think Puck spent his days commiting details of gayboy's ensembles to memory. Suddenly, Puck had a calling.

Nature was calling out to him in the form of a total MILF: "Puck," she said rather ominously, circling his forehead. "You need to pee. If thou does not pee-pee-do, thou willst suffer immensely. Thine bladder shalt nurture stones of the 'we-require-surgery' kind," cried out a fairy-like Lady- Muckbeth, was it? Puck hated Literature when sober, so his feelings hadn't changed whilst hungover. He was Jewish after all. He got up and staggered towards the bathroom to relieve himself before the voice in his head forced him to wear a kilt or kill Principal Figgins.