Flamingo'd: Filthy Frankx Reader

Chapter Thirty Chuggin' and Sewin'

Within the first day of this little trip, you didn't expect to come upon your friend/ cuddle buddy sitting on the floor covered in blood.

After you both had arrived, next few hours had been spent moving an arrange of furniture. Once the both of you had finished, Frank had pinned you to the wall and started to whisper in a coppery voice an colorful array of sensual requests. You replied to this with an assortment of clicking, and then jumped out of the window. Much like the author, you wished nothing more for it this to end. But of course, like the author, it was going to be some day, but not today. You stuck the landing with an expert roll. Did this even match up with the laws of physics? You weren't sure. So you texted Frank that you were going to get some sustenance. So you dove to the bushes and viciously hunted for the woodland creatures. You returned with your bounty, but when you entered the apartment, as was said in the first fucking sentence of this story, Frank sat on the floor, his face coated with blood, and a hand on the other side of the room. You drop the rabbit-bird and run to Frank's side, the sick feeling swarming your body only allowing you to make a panicked array of clicks and buzzes.

     " What happened?" You clicked.

     " Never talk shit... about shitty actors...." Frank squeaked out.

       " Your hand!" You beeped.

     
   You picked him up, settling on the couch. What were you going to do? You felt helpless, like a bass in a fish net. Frank was signaling for you to listen, so shut the fuck up, listen to him, you flick ass nip.

      " F/n, this has happened to me plenty of times, theres a box under the sink, please get it."

You ran and got the said box under the said sink. You placed it on Frank's lap, he took the lead of opening the box, tying a rope around his arm, then taking a long swig of some alcoholic beverage.

This swig has been lasting for over thirty seconds, you were getting a tad hellbent on slapping Frank's face with that dead rabbit-bird over there. Jesus, he already downed half the bottle, his liver must look like Hiroshima crossed with Paris Hilton's vaginal discharge. You got shivers thinking about. Why did look her up? Why did T.J. have to mention her? And why is Frank right-handless, and just chugging away at a bottle of Jackov, or whatever the shit this liquor stuff was called, when he should be doing something with his hands thats just over there lying like it was?

You felt a feeling overcome you. Sort of anger, but not quite. You snatched his amputated hand off the ground, shoving it into his bloody stump. He let out a yelp, dropping the bottle. You felt your arm vibrate, almost like you were making tiny rotations to align his hand with his bone. After a second you let go, you felt so tired now. You collapsed into Frank's lap.

Tears began to prick your eyes. Why did you just do that? That was mean, you hurt Frank. He might dislike you now. What a shame, just when this thing you both had was beginning to get good.

But then, a hand was placed on your head, making its way under your flesh hood, feeling your hair.

" You... Reattached it," he whispered. You shot up looking at his hand.

" Great shhhhhhhhhcott it is!" You exclaimed, all that remain was a jagged cut around his now limp wrist," can you move it?" You asked.

Frank focused on his hand. But it didn't so much as twitch. He sighed, letting his hand sink back into his sleeve like an uncut horse schlong. You curled back up into his lap, purring various tones, translating as," It's okay, it'll work again."

But you remembered something, so you took Frank's non-functioning right hand, and slapped his face with it.

" Thats what you get for just drinking when youz were bleedin' out," you scowled, silly retarded goose Frank had been! Frank yelped at first, but then the both of you just stared at eachother. Like deer in the headlights, which one was the deer, neither of you were sure. You felt like a force was pushing your faces together for a moment, but then you looked at the force, and in your head you said, I thought the star wars prequels were ok. Frank began laughing uncontrollably.

     " What is it?" You asked.

   "What you just said," Frank squeaked out, trying to control his laughter.

    You both settled down, and went to skin the rabbit-bird. Frank popped on a movie, laughing his ass off about an actor he loved. Maybe this whole trip would turn out okay. Or at least... Not mutilated and fucked in the ass with a walrus dildo.