Decades of Insanity: An Inanimate Insanity fanfic

Chapter VI | Exile

Oj had woken up from his less than pleasing nightmare that was yesterday. He was very cranky and tired looking, as he only had gotten 5 hours instead of 7 or even 8 He'd usually get. Paper, however, only slept 3 hours because of the trauma.

He would look in the mirror, tired and cracked. He would try to cover it up to look professional. He then headed off to work, kissing paper and even hugging him before he left.

Paper usually setted up the tables for the club. however, expecting less visitors due to the news probably being more widespread. He would stand in the corner, looking like he was going to have a breakdown on the stage, looking for small imperfections before starting the speakeasy.

He would go further back into the stages, which was rarely visited but Oj, paper, and the dancers Oj hires.

He would sit in the corner, and whimper.

Meanwhile, Oj would drive through the roads, almost crashing into some vehicles. Some may on purpose, others by accident.

He finally arrives at work, and there, pickle was the only one who was working, seemingly not phased by OJ's presence as usual.

"Hello?" Oj said

"Hi." Pickle said with a monotone voice.

"... So Where's the insults?" Oj asked.

"What insults?" Pickle responded.

"About me being gay-" Oj said with a raised voice.

"...hmpf, I honestly don't care." Pickle said. "I'd be willing to support your finances and economics, even if you're gay."

Oj, surprised, said "I-I never knew. Thanks pickle. You really save me in a pickle"

"Ohh shut the pipe hole! You're learning from cheese aren't ya?" Pickle jokes

"Yeah.... Yeah I have." Oj confessed.

Pickle chuckled. "Those drums are really starting' to effect you huh?"

OJ then said "yeah. But wait, how do you know w about I-"

"I was a prohibition agent, I looked in there, relized it was you, and lied that there wasn't a speakeasy at that house. Thank me later."

"...wow... never thought you were there. I honestly can't be mad because you did cover me up, so, thanks." He pats pickle on the back.

"Yeah, always here, for ya."

Trophy, who looked like he came from the hostpital, came in, and looked at Oj with a disgusted face.

"Ew, who let the [F-slur] Here?" Trophy said "get him out!"

"Leave him alone." Pickle warned. "Don't want another fight with a tough guy mr softie"

".... Fine.... I learned my lesson...." He walked to his workstation.

Knife also comes with some bandaging, looks at Oj, disapointed, and leaves. Oj would just stand there, worried. He would walk around and do some of the boss's busy work for him.

Soap would walk by him, and instead of a greet, just leaves Oj to do work.

Meanwhile, there would be talking behind his back about being soft, a [F-slur], being a bitch boy, and a the lowest form of Object.

Oj gets slowly but surely angry at this, but tries to ignore it anyways.

Then, someone taps on your shoulder...

"Yes sir?" He nervously turned around...

It was the boss, Telephone model 4S.

"Come to my office, now Mr. juice." He sternly said.