Like A Poem (CRACKFIC)

Worms On Toast

Hardly Cock had a very particular way of cleaning. He would dump out all his mess onto his bed, clearing everything else, and then place everything back down. Some called him a serial killer for this, others called him correct and valid because how ELSE are you meant to clean things?! Why are you putting things on messy shelves just to take other things off?? No matter what the opinions of other people, this method had worked for countless loads of laundry, eight years of spring greasing (like cleaning but everything is left coated in grease), and now it worked to unpack his slightly Jeff-shaped suitcase. 

He was just finishing up with the last sad, single sock when there came a knock at the door. Perplexed, he shoved the sock into his nose and creaked his door open, peering out into the hallway and the gormlessly smiling face of a 6ft bunny. He shrieked, slamming the door, before a thought crossed his mind-'Wait, that's one of my new flatmates'-and he opened the door again, still screaming. Richard fixed him with a confused stare but, thinking this was a custom tradition where Hardly was from, also started screaming. Outside, a car alarm started it's own warbling wail, and though Hardly's shriek trailed into silence, Richard and the car continued. Over Richard's shoulder, Hardly watched as Jeff left the kitchen, shot the pair a dirty look, and barged into a room down the corridor. A moment later, the saccharine tones of ABBA's Voulez-Vous emanated from the gap under that closed door.

"What-what is it, why are you yelling?" Hardly blurted out, blocking his ears. Richard stopped and looked perplexed.

"Well, you were yelling and it looked like fun. So I wanted to join in. Then the screaming outside kept going and I got confused," he explained in a small voice, before returning to his usual volume. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you see anything that looks like divorce papers in the mailbox, it's probably from Nicole, and it's mine."

"Oh." Hardly went to shut the door, but Richard flailed his arms, catching it with his oversized hands.

"And if you have to sit on the couch, I wouldn't sit in the middle." he leaned towards Hardly and whispered conspiratorially "that's where I stash the cheez-its." Hardly assumed he meant Wotsits.

"Um. Okay. Thanks. I don't think I'm going to be sitting there anytime soon, though." Hardly looked over his shoulder, at his nearly fully-packed grease-den for inspiration. It came in a thought: 'I need a break from these people already!'

"I'm going to go on a walk and check out the neighbourhood."

"Oh. A walk?" mumbled Richard.

"You're welcome to join me if-"

"Yeah, no, sorry. I would but I have a chronic case of uhhhhhhhh..." He paused. "can you get some more cheez-its from the store though? For couch purposes."

"Sure." He might as well, if it would appease this creature. Richard smiled, a big single-toothed grin stretching over his pink face.

"Sweet." 

Five minutes later, phone and new housekeys in hand, Hardly Cock was leaving the house on 69 Piss Street Avenue. As he opened the exterior door, he froze at the feeling that eyes were on his back and turned slowly. The door to the downstairs apartment was slightly open, and though he couldn't see any eyes in the pitch blackness, he could hear quiet breathing, like something was waiting just beyond the door, watching him carefully. Ignorant of what else to do, he raised a hand solemnly, and then turned back. In the seconds before he shut the door behind him, he felt the eyes leave him as the offending door slammed.

He tried not to think about it. 

It was still raining a bit, but the rain had eased off so instead of 'heavens opening' it was more of a steady stream that might make someone go 'I've taken wetter showers.' Hardly thought as he walked, mostly about unintelligible, stupid things, like whether the sock Jeff had swallowed would come out in one piece, or what could motivate a blue cat to leave a giant pink bunny (he could think of a few reasons). More than that, he contemplated the thing that had caused him to move out of his old flat, The Incident. It wasn't fair, he bemoaned to himself, it wasn't his fault he managed to offend a snowflake ghost so badly it made the kitchen explode. Of course, he literally thought the word 'snowflake' and missed the irony of that sentiment completely.

Suddenly, he stopped! There was a commotion up ahead-a veritable onslaught of earthworms had piled up on the pavement. Strewn about as they were, they looked almost like living confetti, in varying shades of pink, brown and red, but they were undoubtedly moving with single-minded purpose towards a soaking wet and pathetic slice of white bread. 

As soon as Hardly laid eyes on the little piece of white bread, something jumped in his tiny little heart. His breath caught in his throat, and his hands started shaking. She was beautiful-a slice of Warburtons Farmhouse, only slightly green around the edges, porous and fluffy, and laying back as though the hoard of worms coming her way was a trifle inconvenience rather than the death sentence Hardly knew it would be. Such was her beauty that she would be prepared to die romantically. But Hardly could not, as a feminist man (not to mention an ally) let that be! he rushed forward, picking up the moist slice, and held her close to him, getting her crumbs and her scent all over his face. He felt her quiver in surprise and congratulated himself on a job well done, before the worms all arched their backs to face him, and hissed, in a surprisingly understandable cacophony of voices

"You disturb the balance. Death approaches. You cannot avoid or seal it away, there is no place the bread can go where the compost will not claim it eventually. This will only end one way. And we can be very patient"

Hardly felt his breath stutter and his hands sweat. He had never known worms to do that before, but got the feeling that these were no ordinary worms, even as they seemed to laugh, a terrible sound, like nails on a chalkboard. Then they dispersed, and Hardly watched them all fall into the sewers like ice melting. Swallowing down his cowardice, he gently placed the bread onto a flowerbed covered by an awning to dry off. She watched him in impassive silence. "Are you alright?" He asked, "Did those beastly worms get you at all?" 

She just continued to watch him in silence. 'Wow.' He thought 'How alluring'. 

"Yeah, you could say I'm a feminist. I thought you might want saving.

When I left my apartment, I had no idea it'd be worms I was braving." He said, attempting to look macho. At this, she let out a short laugh.

"The worms weren't so bad. They just wanted a little snack, that's fine. And besides, I think there's probably some merit to what they were saying." She looked at the flowers next to her. "Thank you for the rescue." Hardly thought he could detect some sadness in her voice, but dismissed it quickly as girls being weird and confusing. After all, he couldn't understand why she would be sad, so therefore she probably wasn't sad. He nodded at her. She continued. "I actually have something to do here, so..."

Right. He had to get Wotsits for the weird humanoid rabbit that was in his flat. He deflated and said "Catch you around, I guess?" She hummed tantalisingly, and he left. 

It wasn't until he was getting his change from the overworked 17 year old that he had yelled at in the shop that he realised that he never got her name. Outside, the sky began to clear, and he cursed himself out, knowing he would likely never see her again and she would likely remain just some girl he fantasised about regularly.