ITS AWFUL OUTSIDE, grey and dreary, with a chill that seems to seep into your very bones. The sky above is a palette of depressing greys, not a hint of blue or sun to be seen. The trees are bare, skeletal branches clawing at the ashen sky like the grasping hands of the damned. The air smells of decay, of dead leaves and the promise of an even harsher winter to come.
Ssprug stumbled out of bed, blinking away the remnants of a restless slumber. His head throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed in time with his heartbeat, a reminder of the whiskey binge from the night before. The room spun slightly as he steadied himself on the edge of the bed, his gaze landing on the faded posters that adorned the walls. Memories of a happier time, before she had ripped his heart out and stomped on it with a sadistic glee that he could never forget.
He glanced around the room, taking in the countless books she had forced upon him - "How to be a Queer Ally", "Smash the Patriarchy", "Why Monogamy is Sexist" - each one a testament to her twisted worldview. And towering above them all, a book that seemed to mock him with its very existence - "Why White Men and Asian Men Should All Be Rocket Shipped to the Sun" by the award-winning author.
His eyes landed on a photo, a snapshot of a time when he had believed in love, in happily ever afters. His ex, the one they now called "the girl who broke Ssprug's face", grinned at him from behind the glass, her beauty still as devastating as the first time he had seen her.
For a moment, his fingers hovered over the glass, a longing to feel her lips against his own, to remember the way they fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. But then the memory flooded back - the way her lips had felt wrapped around another man's cock, the sounds she had made as she had betrayed him in the cruelest way possible.
A snarl tore from his throat as he snatched up the frame, gripping it with white knuckles. With a grunt of exertion, he hurled it at the wall, watching with grim satisfaction as it shattered into a million glittering pieces, the shards scattering across the floor like the remnants of his shattered heart.
The sound of his sister's shrill voice pierced the air once more, urging him to wake the fuck up. "Hay, wakey wakey eggs and bakey!" she screeched from downstairs, her tone as pleasant as nails on a chalkboard scraping across his raw nerves.
Here's the spell-checked version with added italics for dialogue, bold for description, and more details:
Ssprug stomped downstairs, his sister waiting impatiently by the door, all dolled up like the emo whore she was. Her racoon-striped tail wagged as her ears flickered, a dumb look plastered on her pretty face. Big purple teary eyes blinked at him, studying him with a mix of sisterly concern and amusement. She had on stupid striped tights and sleeves that seemed to scream "look at me, I'm a fucking rebel!" A tiny, far too short skirt hugged her curves, barely covering the ass she loved to flaunt. And what had to be the smallest, most pointless thong and push-up bra ( b cup how pathetic ) known to man completed the slutty ensemble.
"Fuckin' hell, can you put some goddamn clothes on?" Ssprug snapped, his voice dripping with disgust and exasperation.
"Ready for another shit day at this shit school?" his sister asked sassily, tossing him a lunchbox that clattered against his chest.
This better not be your vegan shit again! Ssprug thought to himself warily, catching the lunchbox. He peeked inside, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the sight of an actually delicious assortment of picnic-style sandwiches. Even half-cooked, greasy gas station fries were piled on top, looking surprisingly appetizing.
"What, like with your bare hands?" Ssprug asked incredulously, still peeking into the lunchbox.
Don't worry, I did some research on what stupid humans like, his sister quipped. Guess trash isn't good enough for you, huh? You need corporateprocessed food trash instead, that's sooo much better!
"I like McDonald's," Ssprug retorted, rolling his eyes, "but thanks dumper".
His sister smirked, hoping it was at least edible. The salmon looked fresh and inviting, even if the rest of the meal was questionable. An odd realization hit him then.
Wait, where are the eggs and bacon? he wondered, glancing up at his sister with a raised eyebrow.
I'm not allowed near the stove, ever since... well, you know, she said dismissively, waving a hand.
Yeah, I remember, Ssprug said dryly, shuddering at the memory of the smoke alarm blaring and his sister running around in nothing but an apron and a frantic expression. It was a miracle she hadn't burned down the kitchen, or the house with it.
Better it stay that way, Ssprug agreed, hoping his sister had the sense to leave the cooking to those with more talent and less pyromania in their blood. With a sigh, he slung the lunchbox over his shoulder.
Their mom came sauntering down the stairs, the click-clack of her stiletto heels on the hardwood floor echoing through the dingy foyer. She was dressed like the cheap, two-bit whore she was - a top that strained to contain her overinflated chest, and a skirt so short it looked like it belonged on a back alley backshotter. Heavy makeup caked her face, and her hair was done up in a mess of curls that screamed "desperate housewife trying to relive her glory days."
"Just remember, Ssprug, don't stay out past nine... okay?" she cooed, her voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness that made Ssprug want to gag. Her fake motherly concern was about as genuine as her chest, it was very fake.
Ssprug rolled his eyes so hard he thought he might strain something. "Yeah, whatever," he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
His sister snorted, a sound of pure derision. "How can you even think about curfew when you're obviously fucking another guy in the basement? Classy, mom."
Their mother just shrugged, not bothering to deny the accusation. She was far too vain and selfish to care what her children thought of her wanton behavior. "Watch your tone, young lady," she snapped before turning on her heel and clicking away, Leaving a trail of cheap perfume in her wake.
His sister curled her lip in revulsion. "Did you see the mail? Sounds like mom got new toys for her boy-toy," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "No, that's mine," Ssprug snapped defensively.
She scoffed, wrinkling her nose as if she had smelled something foul. "Ewww, gross! Why would you... your not turning gay are you? Ughh, I'd hate to have a gay brother, I might burn the house down again!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with disgust and dread.
Ssprug's eyes narrowed as he fought the urge to throttle his infuriating sister. He took a deep, calming breath and rubbed his temples, trying to clear his mind. Ehem, he cleared his throat, steeling himself before responding. No, he said flatly, his jaw clenched tight with barely contained anger.
His sister smirked, a wicked grin spreading across her face like a Cheshire cat. Oh, she drawled, so you're gonna use it as a prank? Her eyes glinted with delight, eager to hear more.
Ssprug just shrugged, the noncommittal gesture hiding his dark thoughts. Who knows? he said cryptically, his mind already racing with twisted, devious schemes. But it will be cool, just wait and see, he promised, a sinister edge to his voice heralding the impending chaos to come.
As they trudged through the eerie woods, the crisp autumn air bit at their cheeks and nose, painting them red. Strands of rotting leaves crunched underfoot with each heavy step, the decaying foliage crumbling to dust in their wake. The creepy, gnarled trees loomed closer, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, as if to ensnare the unsuspecting passersby. Abandoned, derelict houses slouched on either side, their once grand facades now pitted and crumbling, fallen into ruin. In the distance, the old graveyard stretched out before them, a bleak expanse of weathered tombstones and faded, worn graves, the final resting place of forgotten souls. The very air seemed to hum with the whispers of the dead, their mournful cries carried on the icy wind.
Ssprug's mind wandered to thoughts of kissing and touching his ex, the girl he hated with every fiber of his being. Memories of her soft skin and sweet scent haunted his every waking moment, fueling his insatiable hunger for revenge.
Ssprug glanced sideways at his sister as they walked past the gleaming, pristine SUVs parked in the driveways, their polished exteriors a stark contrast to their own rundown neighborhood. "You ever feel like we're stuck in some fucked up Twilight Zone episode?" he asked, exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke that dissipated in the crisp autumn air.
His sister laughed darkly, a harsh, bitter sound. "Every damn day, bro," she replied, her voice dripping with contempt for their miserable existence.
As they crossed the tracks into the newer, nicer neighborhood, his sister voicing a question that had haunted them both for years. "Why can't they live here? Mom's always going on about money this and bills that, but she's the one blowing it all on booze and rubbers, fucking my life up!"
The same perky, annoyingly cheerful girl from a picture-perfect house with a manicured lawn started following them, a wide grin plastered across her bland, blander-than-boring face. "Hey guys, what's up?" she chirped, falling into step beside them.
Ssprug's sister sneered, her lip curling in disgust as she openly appraised the normie girl's ugly, traditional pink dress and ** matching hair bow**. "Fuckin' piket the woodchuck, much?" she muttered under her breath.
Ssprug just shrugged, unable to see the problem with the girl's innocent, cute attire. "I don't know, I think she looks nice," he said, trying to keep the peace.
His sister gagged, bile rising in her throat at the mere idea of finding anything about this soul-crushingly dull girl appealing. "Guh! Disgusting!" she spat, looking at Ssprug like he was the one with the issue.
Piket just giggled, a grating, annoying sound that set Ssprug's teeth on edge. "Ugh, thanks Ssprug! Wagging her short tail like a** dumbass bitch** in heat," his sister scoffed.
Ssprug instantly shifted his demeanor, a dark glare clouding his eyes as he fixated on the intruding normie. He was still reeling from his devastating breakup, and the last thing he needed was some airhead bitch trying to rear-end her way into his life.
"Uh, no," Ssprug snapped, his voice dripping with contempt and revulsion. "I don't ask whores. And even if I did, I wouldn't start with a stupid cunt like you."
Piket's smile faltered, a flicker of genuine hurt and confusion in her eyes before being replaced by a determined, dumb grin. "Oh... okay," she said slowly, oblivious to the sheer distastefulness of her actions.
Ssprug stalked off angrily, eager to put some distance between himself and the aspiring trad wife, his mind spinning with a whirlwind of dark and depressing thoughts.
"How could such a dumb girl be more deceptive than all the rest?"
Upon reaching the school gates, Ssprug pulled out another cigarette and took a long, harsh drag, surveying the chaotic scene before him. Goth kids huddled together in their black-on-black attire, punks with spiked hair and heavy eyeliner glaring aggressively at anyone who dared to cross their path. Freaks, just like him.
Ssprug walked through the halls, head down and scowling at anyone who dared to meet his eyes, his tattered uniform a stark reminder of his outsider status. The school was a fucking madhouse, filled with more drama than a soap opera and a disproportionate amount of crazy individuals who had no idea how to act like decent anthro beings.
ive spell checked and fixed the grammar to some of it
but i havent double checked
names are ssprug for the human and dumper for the racoon
woodchuck is piket