She fucking cuts her side of her neck with a weird gold fingernail like she has the nails the villain does in that Ben Stiller where he's a angsty super hero for once.
Anyway, yellow gas comes out of her. And I just absurd flashbacks to Binding of Isaac. And also it drugs me. To the point that uh, either she transformed too hard again into a chemistry build cause again, for a brief second she looks like a school teacher of mine. Then her skin turns black from binding of isaac. And she's much skinnier now.
This reminds of the gastronomy build I remember for fat people. Where they're fake fat, and filled with gas instead of meat. As always as a chemist, I gamble. I pull out my taser, which is such a bad move to her she tries to stop me. Because it tases the entire hospital basically. So we're wrestling, giggling about it cause we're both awesome. While everyone else is dying around us, having seizures.
I'm so confused by this chemistry transformation, cause everything is now Binding of Isaac. She aborts wrestling me for the taser, and eats a lemon. I literally fucking must've traumatized into Lemon Party being said like from the game as the ground around us turned into lemon juice. And began boiling my shoes. I was like, upset enough to rant.
"Ma'am, this is a hospital. Do not fucking take this place into the poop chambers of Isaac. Abort now. Please purify this place." I beg with amused bitterness.
"It's already a Lazarus Pit." she claims proudly.
I glare at her, flashing back to when I overanalyzed that game too hard. And uh, I hate it. So hard. I just try to jump out the window behind her. Somewhat thankfully, window breaks with great pain. And I fall down like, two stories. I live with a messed up knee and ankle. And stumble away. For like a block. Until the Lilith mimic thing apparently found a straw. And shot like, five tylenol PMs into the back of my neck. I last like, two blocks before fainting.
I wake up in the Groomer Chamber from Clockwork Orange. Thankfully without the eyeclamps. To an extent. There was an ex there as my Government Groomer, holding a gun. And looking too good. Enough to where when I perked up at their beauty, they got a phone call. And as ya can guess-
"What do you mean I have to change my clothes?" she complains, energized and annoyed.
She doesn't come back. I get a Youtuber instead. Markiplier for some reason. I'm not sure he's real, it's Twinkiplier again.
"Do you know why we're here Mr.Fuckboy Machivelli?" he asks angrily.
I shrug, noticing now I'm sitting in the Hannibal Lector Iron Maiden Chamber with no mask on.
"I dunno, did I groom too hard? I barely planted one farm." I say mischeviously.
"Where do I begin? During your business with the hacker you kidnapped-" Markiplier rants.
"I did what now?" I ask confusedly.
"You inserted like, 200,000 words into the Expedion 33 script! And it was all grooming! You made up like, fucking bullshit that grooms society about creativity and family dynamics in America." Markiplier rants angrily while laughing a bit.
"I don't remember doing that too hard. That sounds like um… schizo land…" I say sheepishly.
"Explain further." Markiplier says with tense amusement.
"If that was me, it was an AI game that got stolen and made into a real game in like, I dunno a week. It was weird and intense. Lune worked me to death, and I was a drug addict during that. I was being a Poison God during that arc." I say, laughing like a schizo jester.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Markiplier says, utterly confused with his head tilted to the side.
"Alright, roll with me on this. First, a BBNO$ came out about sudafeds, ludafeds, or some shit right. So I take them cause I'm bored, and life becomes oddly good. Like I get money to make a game's script. But then as always, get groomed lol. Cause hackers got bored to debate me during the game. And also force forbidden scenarios into the script. Like the Gustave X Mar… the red head girl that's sixteen. I barely got sixteen, and even then I like, groomed that story with adding it's in France so it's legal." I rant with great amusement.
"That's fucked up." Markiplier says, concerned.
"Yeah, but it was fun. Illegally and legally. It was just loving Stalker-Chans too hard with that shit. It was fun though, they made the game programming work way better. I'm convinced they just did the work in exchange for the bullshit during that writing period and other things." I explain happily.
He stares at me with concern while I smile for a few seconds then stare blankly. Then I remember one other thing. Actually a lot of things. That I hold on to. Just know that ummm… a lot of violence happened during the background of me trying to make this game. Especially when a hot woman actually randomly showed up at my house. Along with other hot people. Which always escalated for one main reason: Mother throwing a temper tantrum.
We will overlook these as best as possible despite how fun they were cause it always ends in a cringe mom rant or something.
But there is one thing worth mentioning to Markiplier.
"The one other thing worth noting is that I did solve crimes for them. At least if they were local crimes. Which honestly there was a lot of. Even if some of it was ummm… for selfish reasons rather than even needing to be solved." I explain with a mischievous swagger.
"Well hot shot. Coincidentally we had questions about those." Markiplier says happily. "Tell us about the Bar Code Serial Killer."
I roll my eyes.
"Dude, that only kills Amish kids. Who even cares, they're every cashier ever." I say angrily.
"What?" Markiplier says, confused and traumatized.
"Every bar code gets scanned at a cash register. Every cashier is a Amish Kid Slayer if that counts as a Serial Killer." I rant angrily.
Markiplier is genuinely offended, then sad and confused.
"I don't know how to solve that." Markiplier says, utterly defeated.
"It's called evolve, f@gg3t. Just do partial training by hanging out in a Dollar General or something. Do you need my training program?" I explain, annoyed but willing.
"You have a training program to survive in a Dollar General? Why?" Markiplier asks, annoyed and slightly traumatized.
"A store has too much stuff, it's the equivalent of a chemistry lab. At least high school grade. But anyway. The Mere Foul Eminency as I call it, similar to the theory of Osmosis or whatever from medieval days about germs. The store emanates all kinds of shit while extremely useful, must be beaten in terms of large doses. Such as working at the store. And as always honestly, it's just live there too hard, eat the food, try all the products, even the medicine and makeup, stand by the tobacco shelf too hard cause it emanates sunlight and heat the hardest. And stay hydrated, drink monsters and slash or vitamins." I explain, analytical.
I snap my fingers and let my head wander a bit as I try to think of my next thought. Honestly, it feels like I've covered the basics. All that's left is overanalysis of a store, but Standy Valentine does that enough, sunshines.
"It can't be that overwhelming." Markiplier says, genuinely traumatized.
"A store is a fucked up place to emanate in over time. Like especially if you touch too much stuff across the course of a day." I say seriously.
Oh noooo, I like, explain all the chemistry stuff from Standy Valentine, Cashier Casanova up to idk, Chapter 5.
Anyway, Markiplier is begging God to be real and stuff.
"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS SMART ABOUT STORES! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?" he yells, traumatized and upset.
"As always, it's because of video games and anime. In this case, Final Fantasy 10 and O'aka!" I say with maniacal glee. "Can I rant about it?" I ask happily.
"NO!" Markiplier yells angrily.