You should be dead right now. You should be dead and you're right fucking here, looking me right in the eye.
Not dead. Not yet.
With that stupid fucking grin on your face.
You're not dead yet, but I want you to be. I really fucking do.
"So, I was thinking we could like, go to the mall or something, right?" Hand on her hip, she cocks her hip out to the right. Trying to be cute. "Maybe pick up some guys?"
"Did god put a fucking recovery stone in your cunt or something? What the fuck are you?"
"Um," she says, dumbly raising her finger to her mouth. "I'm a hedgehog, I think. Why do you ask?"
"How many times have I tried to kill you now?"
"Three, I think. I'm pretty sure it was three."
"Why won't you die?"
"Silly Sally, I'm too kawaii to die. ^_^"
She makes me want to do cruel and unnatural things.
With that fucking smile on her face.
"You didn't answer my question, though."
I'll kill her again, later. For good this time. When we're not in public.
Set the bitch on fire this time. Scatter the ashes at the four corners of Mobius.
Fucking Amy Rose.
Teenage fangirl strumpet.
She's the reason I'm in this fucking mess.
It all started when she stole my goddamn boyfriend. That's when things fell apart and my life turned to shit.
When I tried to kill her the first time. Strangled her on national television. Wrung her neck until her pink face turned blue and her eyes popped out of her fucking head. Her swollen red tongue protruding from her ugly face.
"Sally? Are you listening?"
The public doesn't take to kindly to that.
The public doesn't want a queen that strangles "innocent" citizens.
The public doesn't mind revolting and tearing your power away from you with brute force.
I'm lucky they left me alive.
He wasn't even worth it. She was just there, provoking me.
For some stupid reason, she's always been under the impression that we're friends. No matter what I do to her. No matter what I say to her. No matter how many times I ask her nicely to leave me alone, or throw her down the stairs.
"What? What the fuck do you want?"
"Wanna go to the mall? Pick up some guys."
I just stare at her for a moment, wanting her dead with every ounce of my body.
Wanting to force my goddamn thumbs into her eyeballs, pushing them into her tiny, insignificant brain. She's screaming for mercy, eardrum shattering shrieks emit from her good-for-nothing-other-than-sucking-cock whore mouth of hers as I mash her vision into her worthless fucking noodle, retracting my bloody thumbs and by god, I'd lick them fucking clean, I swear to god, savoring the coppery flavor of the blood on the chunks of brain matter clinging to my phalanges and laugh hysterically as she drops limply to the floor, in a crying, agonizing heap of slut.
"Is that a yes?"
"I'm so glad you decided to come with me, Sally," she says, merrily walking beside me. Almost skipping really. She is concentrated nauseam, just like the place she brought me to.
How the fuck did she talk me into this?
The mall is like the castle that spawned this... thing.
Her eyes filled with wonder as she excitedly looks around at the many shops, and patrons carrying bags of overpriced, ultimately useless shit. As if she's never been here before.
"Ooo! We should stop by Cornelius and Pomme. They have great deals on shoes. Or Hallamanders. They have better shoes. Higher prices, but like, better shoes. Why are shoes so expensive, you think? Haha, why am I asking you? Like you know anything about shoes! Your boots are so ugly." Heel clicks as she pauses, dumb fake smile on her face, freezing in the middle of the crowd. "We should give you a makeover!"
"No, Amy, I'm not gonna do that."
"Oh, come on! It'll be fun, and you might end up actually looking cute for once."
"I look FINE," I say, fists tightening. Urine splashing against the tile beneath me, making a little puddle between my feet. She stares at me with a dumbfounded expression on her face Like always.
"Uh. Let's just go pick up some guys."
"I don't, uh. I don't do that."
"Uh, Sally?" she asks looking around, worriedly.
"Are you a lesbian?" she whispers to me, leaning in. "Because that might make things weird."
"You know, like slumber parties and stuff," she says, blinking. "I don't think I'm comfortable with you sleeping in the same room with you if you wanna, you know. Like. Lick my vagina, or something. It's a little weird."
"What?" I repeat, pissing again.
"Okay, like, I wasn't gonna say anything before, mostly because I didn't know what to say to that, but like, that pissing thing is really gross. You should wear a diaper or something. Why don't you ever wear pants?"
"I piss when I'm angry. Deal with it, slut."
"I'm not a slut!"
"Getting onto me for not wearing pants," I say angrily, crossing my arms. "Bitch, you're nothing but cleavage and miniskirts. All your potential pissed away because you know you can always get by on the possibility of revealing even more of yourself than you already are. You're a deviant little slut who gets off on the attention and abuses the benefits. Once you lose you're looks, you'll be just as lonely and pathetic as I am, only without having done anything constructive, or good with your life."
"Hmmm." Blank stare. "I'm afraid I don't know what any of that means."
"Of course you don't. I bet you love being called a slut in bed, don't you?"
"We should go to the bar!"
"Now you're speaking my language."
"The bar is a great place to pick up guys."
"Cosmos, please!" she says, winking and throwing up two fingers while cocking her waist to the side. "Two of them!"
Did she seriously just do that?
"Fuck that," I tell her, before turning my attention to the bartender. "I want rocket fuel."
"Uh, alright," he says pulling out a shot glass and turning around.
"Drink. Not a shot. I want it as a drink."
"Uh, lady. I don't think you should do that."
"Just get it."
"Do you know what's in a rocket fuel?"
"Yes. And I want it as a drink," I demand. "Now."
"Uh. Comin' right up, I guess."
Amy nods to a section at the bar next to a couple of guys.
I sigh, and follow her, because I'm an idiot.
"Hey there," she says, puffing her chest out. "These seats taken?"
"By you," the cat on the right says. To the left is a hedgehog. I fucking hate hedgehogs. They are all fucking insane.
We sit and the bartender sets our drinks in front of us. I chug mine.
Amy leans in close to me, and begins whispering in my ear.
"You mind if I take the cat? Those are still on my to-do list."
"Do whatever you want," I whisper back. "I don't care."
"You can have the hedgehog. You like hedgehogs."
"No, I don't, Amy. I fucking hate hedgehogs."
"What? Why? What's wrong with hedgehogs?"
"Don't even get me started, Amy. Don't even fucking get me started."
"Well, you can't have the cat. We already made a deal, Sal."
"Don't call me Sal. Why don't you just take them both, hussy? Have them run the train on you."
"You sure?" she asks, eyes widening in excitement.
"Jesus Christ, Amy. I was kidding."
"So you want the cat?"
"I don't want either of them, you bimbo!"
They're looking at us. I guess we were talking too loud. Amy, not noticing, paused with that stupid expression on her face. She wipes her face clean and replaces the confused look by plastering a fake smile across her face. I think I almost see a sparkle in her eyes. She turns towards the guys.
"Don't worry about my friend, guys!" she says, giggling. "She's a dyke."
"That explains the short hair," the cat says. "And the combat boots."
"You guys, like, wanna run the train on me tonight? I've never had a threesome before. You can titty-fuck me," she says, winking and smiling. "I'll swallow your cum."
"I have a g-girlfriend," the cat stammers, speechless.
"What your girlfriend doesn't know won't hurt her," she says, knocking back the her drink.
"Amy," I say through my gritting teeth. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"So, go," she says, waving me off. "I'm gettin' some D."
"Amy. You're my best friend, right?"
She quickly turns to face me. "I am?"
"Yes," I say, my piss running down the barstool. Soaking my fur. "All BFF's go to the bathroom together."
"You just went to the bathroom..."
"Come to the fucking bathroom with me, Amy," I demand, cutting the stream off. "Now."
"What did you wanna show me?" she asks, walking right between me and the stalls.
"This," I tell her, grabbing her by the collar and hurling her face first into the door, knocking it open and sending her tumbling down onto the toilet.
She catches herself with her hands on the seat. Her face hovering just over the bowl. Bring my foot up fast, extend slightly, force it down, aiming for the back of her head. Force her neck down on the porcelain rim, causing her neck to crack and all the orifices to ejaculate blood. Her face submerged in yellow water that's beginning to cloud a dark orange.
"Yeah, slut," I say, watching bubbles rise around her. "Take it, slut. Take it."
The bubbles stop.
"You liked that, didn't you, slut?"
Sally, Nicole says from my vest pocket. Princess Sally.
You have a message from Robotnik.