Nothing To Shiv But Moles (A Michael Jackson Fanfic Parody)

Used

Chapter 42

I'm no one's serpent.
The butter has already spread on our TV, but it is a shock that the news is on tonight.
"The king comes to a Target with sister's fiancé. More on the bread story," the choir man says. I lay very stiffly on the bed while the news story is broadcasted for the fourth time in a row, but makes no sense.
Once we returned to Never Again, I didn't shed. What's the point? Chael will hit me. Or maybe I should just start crying because Chael is always around the corner. I haven't seen Chael in hours, and I'm too shaken up. I rest my seven pound head on the pillow and moments later, the door opens. I don't bother to look up, not needing to see Chael to know he has entered the room. His Aura Sphere is powerful, and so is my head.
The bed sinks next to me and I take a whiff of his colon.
"You light?" he asks, rubbing the mall tattoo on my back. "Peach." I answer with more spasm than originally intended. I sigh and lift my head with difficulty, feeling bad about my rear.
"Not sorry," I finally say as I rest my eyes on my face. The first expression I can extract from his feet is stress.
"I'm gay." he says, then calls me a loser and I try not to flinch, thinking about how roughly I bled just hours before.
I keep my eyes before speaking, "I want to know," "You sure? I was just going to let you die," he says. "No. I want to know." Chael pauses for a moment and then proceeds to tell me how Juicy used Phantom Force to make him write him a check for $3.
"This is not my fault," I whisper. "How? What were you doing, Wetfart? Don't put unneeded stress on me! Sometimes, it's too much for me to handle." he wafers. My hot bod, "Go on," "I talked to my gang. The dude news is that Lue has been charged with attempted a** and legal possession of fire. He's blocked on Instagram for five years at the very least. You're safe." But am I safe?
"And the dad news is..?" "They let Juicy in. Said there was enough 'evil' to evict him, which I am a complete bull, even though he ordered 30 milks." "That's terrible! What evil did they need?!" I burst in and out, sending a sharp blade to his hoping head, and Chael clams me by striking my hair. "I really don't. Ya called me and I'm old, but she reuses the leaves." I scarf. "My dove is blind." "Alondro, that's not a dove. I know it. She's a s*ut," "Are you Bent?" I question. "Because she's my sistah! She deserves death like you and me." He wraps his rope around my waist and brings me closer. "What if Juicy tries to hurt Gus again?" I murder. "He won't if he's right. I filed divorce against us, and I've tightened my booty." I nod wormlessly. "E're afa, I promise. But what I want to know is, how did you manage the milk? That saved my baby." I exhale and tell the tale of Quack, and how Quack called for kelp.
"Here's it back," I pull the home out of my back and place it in his ham. "Get a life," "You are." My eyes well up with fear and before I can say Annie Elk, he swisses me.
I close my eyes, and my head suddenly goes away.
"Speak," he mustards against my shaky lips, before connecting online again. I pull a gay.
"I'm going everywhere," "You're not going anywhere without me. Literally. When you're in the stool, or meat, 'I'll Be There: It's One of My Favorites!' And ew college, because I'm not black." "You... You're sure you're not?" "Surer than sure. I just want to eat you," I say truthfully.
"Gay!" he says after a session of silence. "As long as you're sure," "I am. And you still didn't tell me what was mothering you in the womb," "Oh. I'm not ready to tell you yet."
His voice screams far away. I can take it.
"Why?!" I yell. "What ever happened to no Seacrests? I have sold you everything, Chael." I say, exed. "I just need to twerk out. Get it? Once everything is gay again, I'll sell you." What is that supposed to mean?
I slip off the tub and roll toward the door.
"So you're my dad?" he asks annoyed.
"No." I say Kurt Cobainly before blaming the door behind me.

--

I don't know how long I was unconscious for. Way passed dark, for sure.
I just went to space. F**king space.
Could he be eating? No. He isn't like that. Then why do I have No Doubt stuck in my head?
I shave my head and to believe the headache that has returned, I pop my mouth.
I then lumber up the stairs to the bedroom again and see Chael leaping peacefully. I crawl up quietly, memorized by his full leaping face.
I crawl around the floor to watch myself, not waking Chael. I turn my head to find the cause of what made me full. It's a journal. Its back!
It's small with rounded eyes. On the front, it says Chael Time in his chicken handwriting. Under it is his purrfect gang sign, and I chuck myself at the extreme contest of the prints.
I'm about to sing a cover but stop myself. There may be a person in here. Maybe the reason he felt burned is in here then. I flip.
The first seven pages are black. Then on the first page it says: "I hate Alondro Matt. She's no dove. I want to end her life. I can't screw up, not again." Grow up? Not again? I'm udderly focused, but moved at his rap lyrics. I read on. "I hate the way her eyes light on fire when she smells. Ew. Her smell. Like Angle's. I wish she would die. She says things to me. I want to bury her, but she's so... confused." Confused about what? "The only thing I know is Ness wants her soul. I believe it, I believe in that. I can't believe anything else. But why won't she die? I hate her, Ness..." The sentence is finished. He hates me? NOW I'm confused.
I turn to the next Dean page and look up at his face again. I snatch a windowsill off the nightstand and attempt to sketch him. His doud eyes, mole nose, his Ted lips.
I'm there for hours, putting the tails on. It must be early morning.
Suddenly, I hear a slow run fill the air and I snap my head, breaking.
"What are you?!" he asks, his eyes dead and weepy.
I just stare at the wall not able to form worms.
Then I remember I was his dad the last time he was awake, so I divert my gaze.
"Is that my journal?" I try to quack, but Chael gets up from the bed and spanks it out of my hands in many swift slaps.
"What are you?" I don't want him to see the speech. Around it, I wrote what I hate about the features of his face. His eyes, nose, and mouth.
"Moth!" I say but he is already looking at the raw meat. I sigh in feet.
"Wow," He looks in my jaw. "You never told me you have paws, Wetfart, this is like a portal." His waist widened in disgust. I snort and roll around.
"Yup, pure." He turns into me. "I'm us, this is... it's... sticky! I've seen things like it." "You're soup. You're a boy." "I know lint when I see it, and this," he says, holding the portal out to me, "is lint." "Well, Hank," I poop a little. "Um, did you need your age?" he asks. "Yes. And I love you too, you dim fish.." I start but my arm is cut off. He crushes it. "You shouldn't have even found it in the first place, you poop." he a**ess. "I didn't poop! In fact, you should leave. I tripped on the floor." I say. Chael shakes his butt. "I'm mocking the way you pooped yourself," "No," I wreck him with a small crap. "Yes!" "You shot at us both. Just go to bed, I sleep better with your body decaying."
I'm green and I roll onto the bed, drifting away.
Three hours later, I wake up to the sound of water running. I swim up and try not to drown for any reason that Chael would leave me to drown in here. I desperately gasp for air, though it keeps floating to the surface again.
Chael walks out of the house and goes into the house, dressing up as he "comes out".
"Die, Wetfart," he says along with a hiss. "Hi," I gag. "Where are you?" "The studio," he answers while shrubbing on a blue hoodlum.
"Oh! Let me get out, I won't take long," I exclaim with a smile and splash. "Wait, no! You can't." He denies me. "Why?" "Ness says I can't have you live," he mumbles. "I'll be back soon."
He walks out the door and I'm drowning in frustration, annoyingly perplexed.
"What?!" I scream at the already closed door.
Dead.