P̴̧̳͍̮͐̀͛͑̿l̸̛̼̦͂̌̉ȩ̶̨̤̫̿͌̈ä̴̡̹̮̭́̆͒͘͠ṡ̷̻̋̏͘e̴̘̲͔͖̎̈͛.̴̪̙͒̍̎̏̌.̴͖̽̂̍

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Cake wailed, slamming himself into the bar. Everyone stared at him. Cake had tears in his eyes, it had been days after Loser's death and he couldn't get over it. He stumbled to Gelatin, trembling in sorrow. "What can I get you..?" He asked. "Two shots of Balkena Vodka.." Cake murmured depressingly, his eyes drooping. "Sure," Gelatin sighed, giving Cake two bottles. "And what're you doing here! Your like six- your too young to be a bartender," Cake growled before drinking. "Okay- i'm fourteen- you can't even handle figurative speech at this age Cake?" Gelatin retorted crossly. Cake kept silent, continuing to drink. "I hear Loser killed himself not too long ago.." Gelatin looked up sympathetically. Cake didn't respond. Nobody asked. He backed away, finishing the vodka, his head spinning. "Sooo- what happened to your steakhoouse..." Cake muttered softly but a hint of weariness was in his voice. "I'm closing it until I get back to the Peacelands," Gelatin arched an eyebrow. "You sound silly."
"You look like an unidentified green piece of shit!" Cake groaned drunkly, wobbling. "H-Hey! You don't look better yourself!" Gelatin snapped. "IM A FLYING PASTRY!" Cake giggled. "I think you should leave my bar now," Gelatin grumbled. "The doors right there you drunk fuck, you can pay another time just get out!"
"The door's up your ass! FUCK YOU!" Cake moaned before slamming himself against the window, falling limp. His eyes drooped as glass shards sunk into him, Gelatin gasping. Gelatin ran out the door and over to Cake. Cake's breathing slowly hitched.

W̶h̶y̷'̴d̸ ̸y̷o̷u̶ ̶l̸e̸a̸v̸e̴?̷ (CANCELLED BFB CREEPYPASTA)Where stories live. Discover now