The Kronkfic

Chapter One

you're sitting at home, minding your own business, when you get a call. you look longingly at your my little pony rotary dial phone. you know exactly who is calling.

"hey, kronk," you sigh into the phone. it's been three minutes since you broke up with him over carrier pigeon, and he's been calling you every day since.

"hey, y/n," kronk says lustfully. you can tell he wants to say more.

"kronk, you need to stop calling. it's been three minutes. we're over," you say, trying to sound firm, but you know you don't want to do this. kronk is the only person you've ever loved.

kronk breathes loudly in the phone: in, out, in, out. this goes on for twelve minutes.

"kronk, stop!" you say, exasperated. "you're making me horny!"

kronk chuckles a light chuckle. "i knew you weren't over me," he says. "i'll be over in thirty-six minutes and twenty-four and a half seconds with my finest spinach puffs."

you hear the sound of kronk hanging up, and you sigh a long and dramatic sigh. you wish you could tell kronk the reason why you couldn't be with him, but it was easier to lie to your one true love. you hang up your phone and look at yourself in the mirror. you're not like most gender-neutral life forms. your hair is pulled up into a messy bun and you're wearing an extra large t-shirt, branded by the local sports team. how could kronk love you?

the doorbell rings, and your heart skips a beat. it's odd, hearing the doorbell. kronk never rings the doorbell. he always crawls in through the ventilation. curious, you go to the door. you grab your lucky baseball bat, which you won at a drinking contest at the county fair when you were four years old. you open the door slowly, your baseball bag ready for impact.

"hi, y/n!" someone says, their voice coming from right in front of you, because they were on the other side of the door. you know this voice. it's that hermaphrodite mail person you slept with yesterday because you didn't have money to pay for your package and it was collect on delivery.

"what do you want?" you ask, clearly annoyed.

the hermaphrodite mail person looks hurt, but you honestly couldn't care less. "i had fun yesterday," they say.

you give the hermaphrodite mail person a fake smile. you still don't have the money for your package. "i'm saving myself for marriage," you say, rubbing your wenis. it was an obvious lie, one that the hermaphrodite mail person themself knew was false, but it was the only thing you could say to get them to leave you alone.

"oh," the hermaphrodite mail person said. "will you marry me?"

you widen your shoulders. could this one-night-stand turn into a lovely marriage? sure, you didn't even know this person's name, and you loved kronk and no one else with your whole heart, but kronk had never proposed to you. "i'll consider it," you say, giving the hermaphrodite mail person a flirtatious wink.

"would you like a ride in my ferrari?" they ask, motioning towards an expensive car.

"hell yes," you say. you're not like most gender-neutral life forms. you're a gold digger. "but later. i have a hot date soon. and you know what? i will marry you."

the hermaphrodite mail person's eyes widen in surprise. "really?" they ask.

"please go away," you say. "hot date."

the hermaphrodite mail person nods, thanks you for your time, and pulls out in their whip.

you flop onto your bed and sit there, staring at the wall, for about half an hour as you wait for kronk to arrive. finally, you hear a scuttering in the vents. your heart hurts because you love kronk so much.

"y/n! hey!" kronk says, his head sticking out of the vent.

"hi kronk!" you say, dropping onto your stomach and sticking his nose in your mouth and tugging it lightly with your twelve-year-molars.

"please take me back," kronk says, pulling the rest of his body into the room and handing you a plate of spinach puffs.

"i love you kronk, but i can't," you say. and that's when you decide to tell kronk the real reason you had to break up.

"i know your father hates mashed potatoes," you say, tears forming in your eyes.

kronk looks at you with remorse. "i'm sorry, y/n, there's nothing i can about my horrible father."

you cry a deep and ugly cry. the tears wash off all your clown makeup, revealing your true natural face.

"y/n!" kronk exclaims. "i-i never knew! i thought you were a clown!"

you shake your head solemnly, you weren't like most gender-neutral life forms. you've been saying you were an actual clown, and that your face actually looked like that, since you escaped your mother's womb. that's not just an expression, the doctors were terrified.

"i'm so sorry, but i don't think i can do this anymore," kronk said, wiping a tear from his face. "i really wanted to be having an affair with an actual clown."

you nodded in understanding. kronk was technically married to miss birdwell. they had met on the set of the movie "kronk's new groove", and you were the only one who knew that kronk was secretly in love with you, and only wanted miss birdwell because he didn't want his father to know he had a clown kink.

"let me know when you surgically transform into a clown," kronk said with a deep sigh. "i really do love you, but you know i have a clown kink."

you nod. you did know. "i'm sorry, kronk, i really am. i just really love clown culture."

"how could you lie to me?" kronk asks. tears are streaming down his face. "i thought we had a loving relationship going on here."

"we do!" you exclaim, crying more than before. "i swear, we do!"

"don't you swear to me," kronk says. he grabs your face and kisses you right on the wenis.

you are crying harder than ever before. you put on a pair of grape-flavored goggles and turn on the windshield wipers. you can see kronk licking your goggles through the clear plastic. he likes the taste of grape.

"i should go," kronk mumbles, your goggles still in his mouth.

you nod. he should go. you don't want him to, but you know he has to. "please come back tomorrow, kronk!" you cry.

"i will. i love you, y/n," kronk responds. and with that, he shimmies back into the vents.