Sleepy Time Stories

Introduction

Sleepy Time Stories: Introduction

Conceived from a conversation with a pigtailed friend. She adores me so, and my writing, even more so. I am definitely not being obnoxious or arrogant. CNA YOUU TELL???

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Tired.

Max yawned in front of his computer screen, the peculiarly dressed person on it standing idle as Michael Bay style explosions erupted around him. He could hear hiccupping laughter drown out his game's noise over the speakers as a plane crashed right next to his character. He rubbed his eyes.

"Guys, I think this'll be my last game before I need to go get some sleep." He placed his fingers over the keyboard and mouse and started to move around again. He headed to a nearby bike, attempting to steal it, but got knocked over by a stray missile. He did not try to steal it again.

"Max, it's 8:30." Steven said, simply. "Long day?" As he was asking, Steven ran to Max and started punching the living shit out of him, until he fell to the ground and his screen turned gray. Max found the gesture most considerate, and told Steven so. "You're welcome. It was something friendly that I thought up on the spot."

Thus, Max eluded the question. He felt proud of his social skills.

"If Max is sleepy, maybe we need to sing him a lullaby?" Chilled, who had been in a small war with a rocket launcher-wielding man, walked over to them. Damn it, Chilled. Max felt less proud of his social skills. "What songs did you used to listen to when you were a child?" He sounded too enthusiastic, and Max suspected that he was planning on ruining his childhood memories. Not today, sir, not today.

"Your mom." Buuuurn.

Chilled gasped, shock evident in his tone. "You're rude."

"I'm sorry." He wasn't really, he was just taught to have good manners. Gassy felt, yet again, proud of his social skills.

"Apology not accepted!" Came Chilled's immediate reply. What a bitch. Max assumed that Chilled wasn't taught good manners - like him - as a child. He felt slight pity for the poor savage. He decided to just cooperate, because he was not a poor savage.

"Well then, what can I do to gain your forgiveness?" He asks the man. His theory of him being a poor savage was further confirmed as true, when Chilled's character started making obscene hand gestures, I shit you not. Gassy joined him.

"Nothing, you are not my friend anymore." Max shrugs. He tried.

Steven, feeling left out, also joined. Many people followed after, until it was a big crowd of men and women making obscene gestures. Chilled ceased his hand and flicked it. Gassy felt the need to comment something sexual. "You finish fast." He laughs. Chilled whines about his penis. Adam laughs at the word.

Then, suddenly, Max realised that he was being rude. Oh no... He considered apologising again like a good little boy, but then decided against it. One reason being because he was not a little boy, he was a man. And another reason being that he was influenced by mob mentality, so technically it wasn't him saying that. Technically.

"I thought it was natural." Chilled drops a bomb, and the crowd they gathered scatter like insects. Max finds that they also blow up like insects, dropping like flies when the bomb detonated. Good thing that he was in the blast radius or he would've felt left out. "Now everybody explodes!"

Adam yet again giggles at the innuendo. He joins your team after running over a man with no clothes on but a mask and boxers. "What are you guys doing over here?"

"We're trying to get Max to sleep. We're planning on singing a lullaby." That was not a good idea, thought Max.

"Alright! We could do it all together, like those barber guys!" Adam suggested another bad idea.

"You mean a barber shop quartet?" Steven, what a traitor. Max sent silent disapproving looks towards Steven's character, like a stereotypical Asian parent. He hoped the glare would reach him, but Steven gave no indication that it did.

"Yeah, definitely! We could even have harmonies!"

NO, not the harmonies. Max refused profusely, he didn't want to hear them sing. They'd probably end up giving him nightmares - if they were even able to get him to sleep. The other seemed adamant about exercising their voices, and Max thought that this would be his last moments. He opened up a Word document to write his will, until an idea - an escape - popped up into his head. "What about a story, instead?"

There was a small pause. Before Chilled put forth the most philosophical question ever, no kidding. "What if we were book characters?" Then poof, poof. MAGIC.

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Uneventful intro, besides maybe Chilled's premature dingdong and mob mentality. But I suppose you get the gist of it all. The next chapter will be more interesting, I proooommiissee. Probably. The Asian parent joke is fine, because I'm Asian and it actually does happen.

Thanks to my pigtailed friend for encouraging (read: pressuring) me into this.