🥀 We Aren't Friends [Bad End Friends] ♠

♠ ᴍᴇssʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ ♠

"Let's be stupid forever!"
-Finn

🥀.

"What did you say twig?!", Bill shouts.

"I said shut the hell up!"

"Don't tell me what to do!", the demon yells. He claws the gnome's antler. Wirt's beautiful pastel eyes bulge out, he yelps,

"Hey!"

Bill yanks the branch down making Wirt lose balance. The brute force made the weight on his head one-sided. Pressure gets to him and so he trips.

The trio crash into the moist dirt. Bill swallows earth and dead leaves, he pukes the garbage out in gooey saliva. "Plah!"

Finn's poor head collides against the rotten root of a tree. He grunts, shaking his head. Shivering, he holds his head tight, and barries it in the dirt. Sobs escape, Why does the world hate me so much! I've done nothing to deserve this. I am a king - kings don't cry. . . . . "W-Why. . . .", he groans between sniffles.

Every muscle in Wirt's body faints. His long feet drag behind him like noodles as he tries to get up between all the tension. His arms serve as silly string trailing side by side while he sways. He bites his lower lip. The gnome shakes his head shifting the blurry matter inside. His mind isn't well. Wirt falls back down.

"What's up with you two headed cornucopia?", an irritating high pitched voice bangs the carverns in Wirt's skull. The gnome turns around to see the waiter dressed boy flopping over to look at the sky. He giggles craning his neck up to stick out his tounge at the Lantern Barrer.

"You little. . . .", Wirt sneers. His pastel eyes glow a green hue. He tries to get up, but his calves wiggle unstable. He plops back to his bended knees.

"Majestic king? Powerful lord? Beautiful enchanting cheeky amazing lad? Tell me, what am I Branches?"Bill smirks as he gets on his knees slowly.

"Keep talking. . . . and I'll slit your tounge with no remorse.", Wirt's heavy pants follow after the demon's ringing laughter. The gnome flashes his slender long machete from his coat, and stabs it on the moist soil. He then leans on it for support placing the blade up to his forehead. Sweat runs down his nose.

"Them' pilgrims scored too many fruits in your holes. I wouldn't condone the. . . . what's a squirrel?", Bill questions. He falls on his back. He spreads his limbs big and wide then swishes them in big arcs to make snow angels. But on mud.

Finn sniffs rubbing away the tears and gooey liquid dripping out his nose with his torn sleeve. He declined back against the rotten tree, and starts to break down again. His sniffs build up to panicked sobs. His vision is dizzy. Is it the dead-dropping exhaustion? The eating worry? The chomping muscle pain? The crown can heal that. . . . did the crown seem him unworthy now? Did it think his ideas were dull? Maybe the crown did completely disowned him.

"Ugh w-why won't y-you work!"Finn shouts as he pulls his crown out of his sweater roughly almost tearing the fabric.

Bill pops his head up from his laying position, and stares at the prince shake his treasure in front. He raises a brow, and smiles. "What's wrong with you tipsy?"

The demon's eyes linger from the blond to the crown. His eyes lit up. He pushes himself off the ground. His cheeky grin never leaves as he dust off his black coat. He ticks his head to the side and jumps a bit at his own movements. He takes a stubby step forward.