episode 8
Now, Tommy is a brave man. The bravest, even. But when his good friend, his pal, his chap if you must, walked through the café door holding a potato with a bunch of wire sticking out of it, Tommy was considering running.
Techno perked up at the sight and walked over to the boy. They talked in a hushed whisper and you just don't leave Tommy Innit, destroyer of men, enjoyer of wives, outside of a conversation. Tommy strutted over, and hugged his friend.
"Tubs, my man, what the fuck is this over-baked potato."
"Tommy!" Tubbo gave the boy a shit eating grin. "Y'know how people use those potatoes in science experiments? I thought, 'well if a potato can do that, what's to stop me from turning it into a bomb'. Then, as one does, I created a bomb."
Tommy blinked. "You're holding a bomb." It was less of a question and more of a statement to convince himself he heard that right.
"Yes."
Techno perked up again. He leaned over to Tommy and whispered a small 'I like this kid. we are keeping him.'
Tommy was still trying to process the fact that the overgrown ground vegetable in Bee Boy's hands was a fucking bomb.
Tommy stood still for a bit, before promptly screaming when he realized what this meant. "HOLY SHIT YOU'RE HOLDING A BOMB—"
The customer who were in café just sighed and got up from their booths, leaving the building. They've learned that this is normal and they really need to stop from eating there.
Tubbo raised his eyebrow in concern. "Yeah. I'm holding a bomb. I thought we had been over this? You ok big man?"
"Tubbo as much as I love you like a brother—" (techno scoffed.) "—- I don't want to lose my job / home / living room / kitchen. I'm going to tell Phil."
"Whattt. Dude that's so lame." Tubbo pouted.
Tommy was already half way to Phil's office when the man himself busy through the door and immediately tried to gather his sons. Wilbur was dragged out of the kitchen, Tommy was tucked under the man's arm, and techno just stood nearby in annoyance. "I HEARD BOMB. WHO THE FUCK PUT A BOMB ON MY FRONT LAWN."
"Bro, Phil, just calm down. It's just Tubbo." Tommy rolled his eyes.
Phil blinked, still very pissed at the kids. "....i swear to ender I am going to craft a belt..- TOMMY THERE IS A FUCKING EXPLOSIVE."
Techno, Tubbo, and Tommy shared a glance. "We been knew."
Wilbur pouted. "Why didn't you guys invite me to the dynamite party? Rude." He crossed his arms.
Techno groaned. "Cuz if we gave you a turn with it you would blow up another city."
"THAT WAS ONE TIME!"
"TELL THAT TO THE POLICE, WILBUR. TELL THAT TO THE POLICE."
"Ok, I'm tired of this conversation. If we continue then the readers can piece together the evidence to the incident of 1826, and I don't feel like dealing with that court visit." Tommy sighed.
Techno blinked, "readers?—"
Tubbo looked between all the people in the building and shrugged. "I'm going to press the button lol."
Tubbo then pressed the button, contrary to popular belief. He had thrown the bomb up right after the click of the button, to reduce damage to himself. The bomb went off and gunpower scattered across the room, soot lining everywhere and everyone.
Tommy got PTSD to the firework incident.
[THIS IS WHERE THE STORY CUTS OFF. THIS FANFICTION HAS BEEN CANCELLED. I LOST MOTIVATION. SORRY NOT SORRY /j ]
YOU ARE READING
May I take your order, Bitch Boy?
Fanfictionthat one crackfic where Tommy works at a cafe with his friends and does everything but his job. (Inspired by TUMOASD in a round about way) [DISCLAIMER: even though this fan fiction is advertised as a fluff/ crackfic; it does switch into angst sudden...
