Creepypasta Headcannon Oneshots: Book One

The One With The Brackets (feat. vine: 'i need my coffee in the morning, baby')

"Several Noodles learned the hard way not to attempt to engage in conversation with Masky unless he's been awake for more the thirty minutes, has had at least 5 cups of coffee, and 1 cigarette. Those that disregard this unspoken rule generally find themselves facing down the barrel of a gun rather quickly."

Masky was tired. It wasn't a question. It was a statement, and an understatement at that.

Masky was exausted.

He'd been up until 4 in the morning chasing down some annoying teenagers that got just a little too close to Slender's mansion than was preferred (he had fun blowing their brains out, he'll admit) and then when he got home, he had to spend time trying to put out another fire that had mysteriously sprung up in Jeff's room.

(He knew it was BEN's revenge for scaring him while he was playing Corpse Party, but he stayed silent.)

By the time the fire had been put out, Masky saw no point in going to bed- he'd be up normally by this time anyways.

But Hoodie insisted ("Masky, look, you're my best friend and all, but you're fucking terrifying when sleep deprived.") so he went off to bed.

(He'd never admit it, but it really was a good idea.)

By the time he woke up, it was 1:30 in the afternoon, which was a phenomenon in and of itself. Masky never woke up past 12. Never. It just didn't happen.

(Well, there is a first time for everything, his brain told him.)

Either way, he hadn't eaten in 24 hours (ok maybe he was exaggerating a bit but it had been a while) and was hungry.

So, like any normal person, he walked downstairs to have breakfast.

(This is a very normal day so far, he noted. Why hasn't something gone wrong yet.)

He had quite a pleasent breakfast too- the toast wasn't overcooked, nor was it undercooked, nobody was around to judge him when he excluded the butter (look, butter is fucking nasty, ok? Jam is the only thing that belongs on toast. Although in second thought jelly is very nice too, and so is marmalade, although if he's being honest he prefers jam to marmalade- focus, Masky) and the beam of sunlight that usually nailed him right in his left eye was mercifully absent.

All of this formed a very nice morning. (Yes he was well aware it was after 12, do shut up.)

He should've known it wouldn't last.

"Hey, hey Masky, Masky, hey hey hey Masky, Masky Masky hey Masky, hey, hey Masky-"

He had a gun pointed at Toby's face within milliseconds.

(He hadn't looked away from his toast either, damn he was getting good at this intimation thing!)

"Toby," he sounded bored. "Later, okay?" The other proxy gulped.

"Al-alright Masky."

(Wtf is up with all these brackets I'm so sorry everyone idk what happened.
Also if I hadn't published the headcannons books and just had this book, would any of you read it? Be honest, I won't be hurt.)