I slammed Lucille against the cheaply made gates. "OPEN. UP!" I ordered. Ugh, such insufficient service.
The gates opened. Daryl slunk forward. "Ew, what do you want?" he demanded.
I chuckled, giving him my typical smooth, sly grin with my graying stubble. "Where's Rick?" I asked.
"You kiddin? You killed him! Gtfo!" the misshapen redneck shouted.
My feelings were quite hurt, but that wasn't as bad as my perplexion. I killed Rick? Oh yeah, I guess I did! I played it off smooth. "Haha, I knew that. Hehe," I chuckled. I winced. It sounded so much smoother in my head. Ugh, this was like awkward af high school!!
I was casually pushed onto the ground as Simon barged past me. His objective was a blueberry in the garden. I spat out the dirt, a worm flossing through my teeth. The petty, horrible creatures of the hilltop laughed at my plight.
"THAT WAS THE FIRST BLUEBERRY!" the very fat, slightly Asian man known as "Jerry" rumbled, choking on peach cobbler.
"Um, you have NO right to laugh at me! That's it! I'm gonna kill you!" I yelled, angry. It was then that I somewhat realized how petty I was. But I didn't care. Life was worth being petty.
"Rosita sama, an acorn," Eugene bowed, handing the beautiful beauty an acorn. She elbowed him across the face.
"Ooch," Simon winced, laughing.
"Hey! You can't elbow my beloved scientist bullet maker doctor hybrid!" I exclaimed.
The children were having a congregation at the mass grave site behind the tomato field. I trotted over to see what the commotion was. It seemed very intriguing, indeed. I approached the ceremony with a very inappropriate, jarring grin on my face. Just how I like to go about life. Jarringly.
"Sup, dudes," I greeted.
"Go away. We're having a mass mourning for Glenn and Abraham," Enid choked, wiping away tears.
"Aww, that's...that's so sad," I whispered, sniffling. I had to hold back tears as I gazed down at the graves. Hairs plucked from Abraham's mustache, taped to his tombstone. Glenn's very expensive, high quality watch hanging. I wiped tears from my eyes. They died before their time. It was a loss to us all.
"You're the one that kILLED THEM!" Enid screamed, attacking me with her teenage claws. I gave her a smack in the head with Lucille to calm her. She fell, convulsing. It was self defense, baka.
"Lol, thug life," Gregory chuckled, very obviously stealing Glenn's watch. Maggie punched him in the face. I shivered, seduced. She was so aggressive, yet so kind when she inflicted pain on others. Should I tell her I killed Glenn just so she would kill me? I imagined her stabbing me, then holding me in her gentle arms to ease the pain, whispering a lullaby to me. Yes, that is how I want to die.
"Negan. Leave," she sternly told me in her pleasant country accent.
"RAAA!" Simon yelled, pushing over a shelf of children's toys. The children screamed.
"Um, that's not the savior way," I corrected disapprovingly. A true savior would bash someone's skull in, not push something over.
"But I'm naturally destructive," the mustached warlord protested, flexing his large hands. I flapped my hand dismissively, not listening. I was too absorbed in my friends, the hilltoppers.
"Um, can you leave?" Daryl asked awkwardly, tucking his hands under his sweaty armpits like always.
"Daryl chan. I thought I told you not to instruct me," I chuckled, leaning in threateningly. He gave me an aloof redneck look. Could this redneck feel no fear? People who didn't succumb to my barbed wire baseball bat aesthetic and dazzlingly good looks, if I do say so myself, could not be considered human.
"I'm just here for the weekly offering," I said.
"Yes, your majesty," Jesus bowed, giving unto me a box of lemonade packets. Ah, powdered lemonade. Truly my favorite. I gratefully accepted.
"What about the spaghetti?" I demanded. Lemonade and spaghetti was the best combination. Sometimes I boiled the noodles in lemonade for that extra flair. Watching Dwight gag and vomit afterwards was priceless every time.
"Um, gomen, Negan sama, but we couldn't find any," Aaron said.
I could feel my chest getting angry. "Really? What am I supposed to do without spaghetti? Spaghetti is my LIFE," I growled, stepping forward.
"Maybe go to the grocery store but hey, what do I know," Michonne shrugged.
"Dad sama, you're embarrassing me," Carl whimpered.
"C'mon guys. You know I crave spaghetti as red as Abraham's hair," I chuckled.
"Um, actually, Abraham had orange hair," Simon corrected obnoxiously, raising a finger correctively. I hurled a pack of exclusive burger king mac n cheese cheetos at his sweaty shirt.
"We cannot provide you with spaghetti. We are eternally mourning for Glenn and Abraham," Father Gabey said.
"Hehe. Sorry to tell you this, but the day will come when you won't be," I chuckled.
"How DARE you speak that episode's NAME?!" Maggie yelled.
"Um, Negan sama, you're causing problems," Eugene commented, trembling like a 4 year old stuck in the washing machine at Walmart. I forgave his disobedience. He was too cowardly to respect authority.
"I want a fruit smoothie," I grinned, winking at Tara. She regurgitated on the sidewalk.
"I've gathered the fruits," Dwight announced, holding fresh picked pineapples, blueberries, mangos, and coconuts.
Off to the yogurt pool. The hilltop had a yogurt spa. There was a pool of yogurt. I scooped some out with my gnarled hands.
"Simon. You got a blender?" I asked.
"Yup," he replied, pulling a blender out of his pocket. So trustworthy.
We piled in all the fruits, along with a scoop of yogurt. Then, blend. It turned into a yummy mixture. I drank it, delighted. It soothed my throat, hoarse from yelling.
"Um," Eugene said. It was clear he desired some. Dwight eyed the smoothie like a hungry kitten. What was I, a giant chicken leg? No. I don't share.
"Sorry, kids. I don't share smoothies," I chuckled, hugging it.
"B-But, but," Simon whined like a dissatisfied toddler. I shoved a spoonful of gelato in his mouth to silence him. He gave a content giggle.
"Wow, this is what I get for living in the zombie apocalypse?" Carol scoffed.
"S-So, like, not to be rude or anything, b-but, do you wanna go on a date desu, baka?" Jesus asked, twirling his unkempt long hair.
"Hehe. No. Well, this is awkward," I chuckled.
Finally, we left. I eagerly awaited dinner. I love eating, especially spaghetti desu!
