Fuck it; story.

Just a spur of the moment thing. Jhony, you bastard.

  Let's all for a moment pretend that Jhony survived his ordeal with the ponies in that story I wrote a little while back and travel now to his brand new cubicle off in... I don't know, candyland or some shit like that.

  A single drop of water glanced like a dainty ballerina off the tip of Jhony's pointed nose, causing him to twitch. Unfortunately, this was to be the highlight of his day.

The End.











Just kidding, you rascals. But I totally had you going there. That blank space above made this tooootally inconspicuous.

  Jhony flicked his nose and continued about his merry web surfing. Ooh, what's this? He thought as he stumbled upon a video mash-up of some random anime tribute and a 'hip' dubstep track. However, as he did a pop-up appeared advertising bread designed specifically for poking holes in and placing upon the face of a cat. He scrolled through images of several satisfied customers displaying their cats laden with bread, sighed, and unzipped his trousers. But before he could have his way with himself a small child appeared through the flap in the corner of his cubicle. Jhony muttered something about removing the stupid flap from his wall, picked up a brush and swept the child out through the flap.

  Several hours and many images of cats later, Jhony slumped backward in his chair. To his surprise the small child appeared through his flap once more, causing him to let out a guttural moan.
   "Mr Sir, may I have a moment of your precious time?" The child spoke, its voice was rough like sandpaper. That was such a terrible simile. Seriously, did I learn anything from my English classes? So cliche. Whoops, broke the fourth wall.

   Jhony put down the industrial strength tape he had used to repair the damage to the fourth wall caused by the narrator and turned back to the child.
   "What ails ye, youngling?" He said with a shrill, obnoxious tone.
   "I appear to have contracted Lesch-Nyan syndrome" The child responded. A tear escaped from Jhony's puffy eye. He knew what he had to do though. So he knelt down next to the child, placed his hand on its shoulder and told it the plan.
   "I'm going to have to suck it out" He stated with confidence.
   "Wh-what?" The child stared at Jhony in confusion. "Suck what out...?"
   "The syndrome, you dopey bastard" Jhony slapped the child's delicate face, dislocating its jaw. Then he retrieved a silly-straw from his trench coat pocket, put his fedora down on the ground and jammed the straw into the child's chest. The child let out a gasp and Jhony proceeded to suck rapidly on the straw.

   By the time Jhony pulled the straw from the child's chest it had died and he was covered in its blood. Jhony stood up, brushed the child through the flap once more and sat back down in his chair. He pulled up a tab displaying various cats in funky positions, sighed, and unzipped his trousers.