Hey guise, I wrote a story too!1!
It all started when our uber geek, Badspot, woke up in a bush. It was the second time it had happened. Feeling scarcely exasperated, Badspot slapped a banana, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). Heart filled with earnest fortitude, he realized that his beloved Terrain was missing! Immediately he called his enemy in training, Kompressor. Badspot had known Kompressor for (plus or minus) 2,000 years, the majority of which were electric ones. Kompressor was unique. He was ingenious though sometimes a little... abrasive. Badspot called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.
Kompressor picked up to a very nervous Badspot. Kompressor calmly assured him that most 3-legged wallabies sneeze before mating, yet disease-carrying chipmunks usually flamboyantly grimace *after* mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Badspot. Why was Kompressor trying to distract Badspot? Because he had snuck out from Badspot's with the Terrain only three days prior. It was a enticing little Terrain... how could he resist?
It didn't take long before Badspot got back to the subject at hand: his Terrain. Kompressor sighed. Relunctantly, Kompressor invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Terrain. Badspot grabbed his hippopotamus and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Kompressor realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the Terrain and he had to do it deftly. He figured that if Badspot took the entrepreneur fresh, candy-painted 'Lac, he had take at least seven minutes before Badspot would get there. But if he took the 20$ bill? Then Kompressor would be abundantly screwed.
Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Kompressor was interrupted by six selfish forums that were lured by his Terrain. Kompressor turned red; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling pleased, he aimlessly reached for his carrot and aimlessly backhanded every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the swamp, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the 20$ bill rolling up. It was Badspot.
----o0o----
As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Egg Roll King to pick up a 12-pack of ripened avocados, so he knew he was running late. With a mighty leap, Badspot was out of the 20$ bill and went scandalously jaunting toward Kompressor's front door. Meanwhile inside, Kompressor was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the Terrain into a box of wolverines and then slid the box behind his whale. Kompressor was concerned but at least the Terrain was concealed. The doorbell rang.
'Come in,' Kompressor flamboyantly purred. With a mighty push, Badspot opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some clueless self-righteous ass in a spaceship,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Kompressor assured him. Badspot took a seat excruciatingly close to where Kompressor had hidden the Terrain. Kompressor panicked trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Badspot was distracted. In a blinding moment of misguided bravado, Kompressor noticed a annoying look on Badspot's face. Badspot slowly opened his mouth to speak.
'...What's that smell?'
Kompressor felt a stabbing pain in his double chin when Badspot asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the Terrain right by his oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A clueless look started to form on Badspot's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's wolverines from when she used to have pet man-eating capybaras. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Badspot nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Kompressor could react, Badspot fearlessly lunged toward the box and opened it. The Terrain was plainly in view.
Badspot stared at Kompressor for what what must've been six hours. Like a drunken sailor at happy hour, Kompressor groped exotically in Badspot's direction, clearly desperate. Badspot grabbed the Terrain and bolted for the door. It was locked. Kompressor let out a flamboyant chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Badspot,' he rebuked. Kompressor always had been a little clueless, so Badspot knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Kompressor did something crazy, like... start chucking gerbils at him or something. Giggling like schoolgirl, he gripped his Terrain tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.
Kompressor looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Badspot. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame five days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Badspot. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Kompressor walked over to the window and looked down. Badspot was gone.
----o0o----
Just yonder, Badspot was struggling to make his way through the fanstic pumpkin patch behind Kompressor's place. Badspot had severely hurt his armpit during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral forums suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Terrain. One by one they latched on to Badspot. Already weakened from his injury, Badspot yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of forums running off with his Terrain.
About eight hours later, Badspot awoke, his fingernail throbbing. It was dark and Badspot did not know where he was. Deep in the muddy haunted thicket, Badspot was excessively lost. Ever so extemperaneously, he remembered that his Terrain was taken by the forums. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life. That's when, to his horror, a little forum emerged from the lemur-infested moor. It was the alpha forum. Badspot opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the forum sunk its teeth into Badspot's ear. With a faint groan, the life escaped from Badspot's lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.
Less than seven miles away, Kompressor was entombed by anguish over the loss of the Terrain. 'MY PRECIOUS!!' he cried, as he reached for a sharpened dull pencil. With a hasty thrust, he buried it deeply into his taint. As the room began to fade to black, he thought about Badspot... wishing he had found the courage to tell him that he loved him. But he would die alone that day. All that remained was the Terrain that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn's reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant forums, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would've lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead. So, no one lived forever after, the end. :'(
