Dave was in the kitchen, attempting to cook. He was never one for cooking, but since John has been complaining that he's always the one making dinner, he told Dave just to try. Dave didn't want to make John sad, so he went ahead and did it. He currently stands in front of counter, many assorted ingredients in front of him. They were peculiar, and he had no idea what half of them were. They were such an odd combination, too. He didn't even bake or cook, and he knew something was just weird about this.
"Alright, first," He mumbled to himself. He had a bowl of oatmeal, fresh. He could still see the steam coming off of it. He hated oatmeal. Despised it. Why was it even here? He pushed that thought of hatred to the back of his mind and started to mix together the ingredients, not particularly in order or in a very organized fashion. He was making lutefisk, a Scandinavian dish consisting of dried cod soaked in lye then boiled. Good for him, everything was already boiled, so it saved him time.
He smashed the cod into the counter, pieces of it flying everywhere. Next he took a brown egg from its carton and smashed it on top of the cod, the yolk and egg white getting all over his hands. He didn't care though. Next came the oatmeal, he lifted up the bowl, reading to pour it over the egg soaked cod, until he heard someone come into the kitchen.
"Dave, what the hell are you doing!" John screamed, looking over the mess the blonde had made. Dave looked down at the mess, and then back up at John, keeping on his poker face.
"Cooking, just like you told me to. I'm even making that lutefisk shit you told me you liked," He spoke with hands covered in different ingredients. There was even a mess on the floor. John didn't even want to know why. He turned around and gingerly tipped the bowl of oatmeal, getting an infinitesimal amount on the cod. "Perfect," He whispered, stroking the dried fish with his hand. He then kissed it, John watching with terrified eyes. "It needs more things. "
Dave picked up the cod covered in eggs and a bit of oatmeal, running into the kitchen and stuffing it into the toilet. John followed, screaming at him as of what the actual fuck he was doing. After it was in the toilet, he grabbed a magneto and threw it in the toilet, watching as it splashed water everywhere. "It's almost finished," Dave whispered intently, slipping off his shades before he threw them at the wall of the shower, breaking into about three different pieces before he scooped the disgusting mixture out of the toilet and placed it on the edge of the sink. John stayed quiet, still wondering what was going on. He was too afraid to speak.
"Get my amplifier," Dave order John. John shook his head, but he did it anyway, running out of the bathroom. He came back a few moments later, breathing heavily from having carrying the heavy thing into the bathroom. Dave then placed it near the sink and pushed the mangled looking "food" off the sink and onto the amplifier. He pushed it around with his hands, trying to shape it into something. John definitely thought something was wrong with Dave now. The blonde's eyes were wide and filled with terror as he did this, his hands shaking and he was breathing heavily. Out of nowhere, Dave took a teleprompter and threw it against the wall before turning to John and staring at his head intently.
"Gotta get your head in the game," He whispered, before shoving the mixture of now inedible substances and solids into his mouth, chewing. He then cut out his spleen with his own hands, placing it on his hands and then humming a satanic tune before he threw himself into the wall singing Indian music.
And then they had sex.