Drunk Night Imagines

Andy Leo's Secret Grandma

It's three in the morning, that means it's late. You're in your secret apartment that you have been renting out from this guy named Gregory that works at the seven - eleven that is down the street. Let's just say you living there isn't necessarily "legal". You have just come back from your heist that you completed with no other than Steve Harvey himself. It was hard to order him around, since he is only the finest game show host ever curated by the Gods. Anyways, someone has followed you home. You stand your ground behind your velvet couch, only payed for by the money you stole from Patty Le Belle after her mighty successful Sweet Potato Pie selling in fall of 2015. The person that you think has followed you has shown their existence. They are now pounding at the door. You and Harvey have your guns raised ready to shoot. You have scratches on you from your journey thus far, and you are about to get a hell of a lot more. The door bursts open.

And then from that moment, there is only gunfire. The man from what you can tell is wearing a black hockey mask and leather jacket with tight black skinny jeans. He shoots at you as pieces of the velvet couch that you named Jeffrey fly across the room. Poor Jeffrey. You hold onto Jeffrey, praying that no only you and Steve will get out of this alive, but Jeffrey too. You shoot, yelling in Korean. You can speak Korean apparently, you learned in it in Medical School, or if you're Korean and reading this and speak it at home, you learned from there. Anyways, the man is confused by your tongues, and he pulls out yet another gun from his back belt loop. Apparently a belt loop can hold a gun. And just like that, he goes down. Not the man, not Jeffrey, thank the lord, but Steve. Blood pools on his mustache and drizzles down his chin onto his silky smooth grey suit with his baby blue tie that he always wore. You tear up, a single tear dropping down your face. You pray for him in your mind, in Korean. You know that up there in heaven, where he obviously is, cause he's Steve Harvey, there is no language, and he will surely understand.

There is no time to waste. You must defeat this bastard of a man if it's the last thing you do. When he is reloading, you take a shot at his foot. He goes down, spilling cutlery from the counters of the kitchen. You run to him, not killing him, for you want him to see the eyes of his killer. That really sets the mood. You rip off his mask. You drops the gun, you are shocked.

It is your former boyfriend, Andy Leo. You scream. He doesn't find the reunion as surprising. He takes a knife and swipes at your arms. They cut deep. You fall back bleeding heavily. You are trying to run away, by scooting across the marble floor. He stands up and comes running towards you. He apparently can speak Korean too, what a shock. He looks like Naruto about to bust some shit, even though he is Mexican. What a man, no wonder why you dated him. These thoughts flush your mind, but then you remember. He killed Harvey! Steve is dead because of him! This is no time for romance, just vengeance! He is near you know, after what seems to be minutes of him screaming and running with those little flashy lines that you see in anime to signify fastness, yup like that. He is inches away. He lowers down the knife with great speed, you have nothing to protect yourself with, except for your most valuable tool.

Your fist, and forearm. As he gets closer you lodge your whole fist and upper forearm down his throat. It's as if he was skewered like a lamb chop, a Mexican Korean fusion lamb chop. He lowers the knife, he is dead. You love the satisfaction it gives you to see this dusty, musty crust, never to be trusty, nasty son of a mother's love dead. But, you're not done yet. You take the knife, and start slitting him open, like a pig. With every single stab you scream some Korean curse word. And then, when you stab into his left side, you hear paper crunching. You immediately look down, stopping your Korean slander. It's cash. There is literally cash spilling out of Andy Leo's dead corpse right now. Wow. You scream in delight, piling the cash onto Jeffrey.

"It's going to be alright you," you whisper to Jeffrey. Jeffrey thanks you, like, metaphorically. As you dig deeper, you find assorted items. Buttons, bottle caps, blankets, man girdles, cheerios, and memory foam sketchers. But there is one specific thing that catches your attention. A bright shiny gold key, and as soon as you see this key, light flashes before your eyes. Memories dance across your brain, and you remember when you and Andy were dating, he had this treasure of his. This box that he would keep away from you. And when he forgot it while moving out in a hurry after your major fight, you kept it. You tries to rip it open, cut it in half with a buzzsaw. Even had Larry from across the street smash it with his bulldozer. Nothing worked. But now seeing this key that he must have swallowed, you know this is the answer.

You run to what used to be his and your bedroom, and rip open your closet door. Sitting there is that box, and as you insert they golden key, it fits perfectly. A rush of heat shoots up your spine and down to your toes, even thought they have no association with one another at all. This is it, the moment of truth. You take the key out and lift the top of the box ever so gently. You close your eyes, counting down from five, in Korean, to open your eyes. 1, 2, 3, 4, excitement fills you, 5. You open your eyes and look down at the box.

There is only one sole item. A picture facing downwards. It says on the back, May 1st, 200 AD. You process this, it seems irrational, but you never know. You flip the picture over so slowly, it's as if you were paralyzed. You look at the picture. A portrait of a woman. A woman no other than the Goddess herself, Betty White.

And on the picture, written in the prettiest cursive.

"Your grandmother, Betty."