Chapter Text
It was a hot noon in the summer. Two abnormous monstrous food items and some fat dude were heading to the Anicon.
- Why are we going into this weird place? I thought we are getting some chicks, - the fat guy complained in his rough accent.
- Cus we are! It's an anime convention. There are plenty of cosplayer gals that are dreaming of our bodies! - the milkshake proclaimed with confidence
- I dunno. Aren't anime fans ugly?
- No, uh, not here. I saw the pics from the last year con, it must be good. The costumes are mostly in high quality and accurate to a character. And they're just so hot! - shake threw hands in the air? All excited. Seems pretty convicing to Carl.
They arrived to the building in a few minutes. The con was already full of different colorful people. Meatwad was dragging himself like a slug nearby. He moved slowly to observe all stands and characters.
- Oh, look! Its My little pony! Hi Pinkie Pie! - the meatball yelped with his squeaky and ran to the stand.
- I prefer Apple Jack. That pink bitch is insufferable. The Jack fits my women standard way better – nice, workaholic wife that will cook be some apple pie, totally is traditional and loyal.
- You can watch those freaky horse shit with Meatwad, Carl, - shake frowned - while I'm getting actual bitches, - he turned around and started walking to the anime stand. He stopped for a second and yelled:
- Look after meatwad or whatever. I'm tired of gettin’ my ass beaten by Fry because of him. - he looked at meatball happily hugging girl in a cheap pink wig.
She is probably weirded out and wants to get rid of him, he thinks. Who wouldn't? That little meat is ugly and stinks dusty rotten pork. Shake would absolutely kick him out or make him into a patty to sell near bus station. Only if Frylock didn't have strange fathership duty with him. God, why dont he just marry a single mom!
Shake watches over the board with multiple pins for sale. He can't recognize any character. Of course, he doesn't watch this crap for nerds! But maybe these pins contain something manly enough... Shake squeezes his eyes, moves closer to the board and suddenly bumps his wide paper forehead with someone.
He was about to curse that clumsy freak, but his jaw dropped and voice went silent. The girl was tall, dressed in a loose shirt, jean shorts and fish net stockings. Her hair was dyed in pastel purple, seemed to be a little fried. There were two fluffy cat ears on the top of her head. She smiled, the plump upper lip, painted in black, brought his attention.
- Are you sorta furry? - shake said, his voice unsure.
The girl was confused a little, but then touched her head and stomped her head on the clip:
- Oh.. Nope! Its called kemonomimi. A little different subculture. - she looked over shake, up and down, her hand ran trough fried strands, curling them around fingers – I like your costume. What object show is he from?
-New Jersey, - Shake answered, grinning stupidly with eyes opened wide. What the fuck is object show? He threw a glance at the girls shirt. Her shoulder was bare and showed a thin strap. The print was bright, featured multiple objects with stick limbs. It said Bee Ef Dee I Ay below the picture. Seems like a cartoon for babies. Weird!
Still, shake was interested in this girl. Sure, she was alternative and not conventualy hot and blonde, but she didn't push him right away, which is unbelievable! That means she is totally worth the king Shakes attention.
Shakes soul-staring made the girl a little uneasy, so she spoke:
- You want some pins? What fandom you're part of?
- You are selling these? - he pointed his at a shiny pin in the corner that pictured muscular man in rage. - I like the Guts one. He is just like me –a lonely warrior in this cruel world.. - Shake raised his little yellow limb to his forehead, standing in a dramatic pose.
- I love Berserk! One of my favorite mangas, ive got all the chapters. - the girl with stupid cat ears started passionately talking about her favourite characters and plots while taking off few pins with the said character.
Shake was paying little-no attention to the yapp, focusing on slim fingers with crusty vanished black nail polish. His look traveled to the bare shoulder, wrapped with a tiny strap. He had an itch to pull it, but he held himself. Last time he tried to do it, drunkely, in the club, Frylock scolded him and yanked him outside by the straw. What a killjoy.
He reached his own meaty yellow ones and sloppily took the pin with short haired girl, placing her on the table, next to the man:
- You could be Casca. To my Guts, - his hand crawled in the girls direction, meeting with her pinkie. It quickly curled away.
- Not a fan of this ship. I like Guts and Griffit more. They want each-other bad,
Shakes dreamy grin vanished. His cup “brows” went up, the straw bent down.
- They.. want each other? No, they don't, - shake said, tone mixed with confusion.
- Of course, they don't, canonically. It's just my interpretation. Guts was just special to Griffit and Im in love with love-hate dynamic..
- Don't make my goat gay, you woman! - Shake frowned with his cup corner brow, giving an offended look from below.
- Huh? - her expression changed immediately.
- You can't make a canonically straight men gay!
- I can make gay anyone I want!
- No, you cannot! He is a manly man who gets cool bitches like Casca and Farnese, not white fags.
- You cant say that unless you are gay, moron, - she confronted him, frustrated at the turn of dialogue. She grabbed forgotten pins and hanged them back to the board.
- Thank God I'm not! - Shake barked. They stayed silent after that. Shake was watching her selling pin to a group of colorful teenagers, from the back. Her fake cat tail was slightly waving from movement. When the group was gone, she turned around to Shake:
- What? - she snapped,
...
- Is your tail a butt plug?
Shake was outside of the building. The sun was burning violently, picking at his sensitive paper skin. It was decorated with a huge red bruise, near the eye area. Shake was wandering the streets, trying to get to his house. He felt drained under the sunshine, like it was eating him alive.
He finally made it to his house. His hands reached the doorknob, trying to turn it, fighting the sweat on his yellow gloved palms. The Shake-shaped door suddenly opened, making Shake fall on Frylock.
The Fryman quickly flew away; Shake met the floor with a quiet cup sound.
- You're done? Where's Meatwad? - Frylock asked casually,
Shake looked up at him, refusing to stand up.
- He’s with Carl righ’ now.
- What do you mean he is with Carl? YOU were supposed to be watchin him. - Frylock said in his classic judging tone. His weird spidery fry arms took him up by the straw and placed on a foot. Itchy.
- Cmon, Fry. Meatwad will be fine. They will hang out a bit and Carl will take him home – Shake said, exhelling. He is low-key fed up with Frylocks paranoia but didn't want to argue this time. Was he that tired?
Nearly an hour passed. He and Frylock were sitting by the table, eating their lunch. A lonely plate of pasta was placed in the corner. A chair near it had a stack of books on. Frylock was tossing his meal because of worry; Shake did that for another reason.
The girl couldn't leave his mind. He didn't even know her name. So little he knew her.. They were meant together – a metalhead and an alt girl. And she chose to break his heart over a stupid thing. He just asked what her silly tail was attached to. Innocent question, pure curiosity! What did he do wrong?
Messy growl of Carls car appeared somewhere outside. Frylock immediately stood up, throwing his fork at the table. Small explode ran over Shakes hand, he stared at it for a little.
The voices were quiet, he couldn't break down the words. But he could hear the tone. They were arguing. Bad.
The door opened, showing confused fatass and a bag of fries in fury.
Shake felt the heat rise again.
- Why do you look at me like that? - he asked confidently, but his insides were burning.
- Carl did not take him home. - Fry said through teeth, clearly trying to maintain calm.
- Then why are you flaming yo eyes at ME? Carl, where the fuck is Meatwad?
Carl confusedness wore of by that time, he seemed to be rather annoyed:
- That little piece of meat is not ma kid. You are the one that had to look afte’ him.
- He ain’t shit to me too-
The moment he said that Frylock ran to him, pinning to the wall with loud high-pitched bang. The gross spider fries dig into Shake’s palms, holding him still. Frylock placed himself to Shakes eye level. Shake could see blue shiny storms forming in his pupils.
Fry was about to speak, as Shake’s throat stiffened, he started coughing. Frylock quickly stepped back, freeing him. Shake run off to the backyard door.
The grass under fingers felt like needles. The heat was still present, even since the sun was hidden by grumpy gray clouds. Shake felt like throwing up, but nothing came out, beside the strawberry flavored spit. Frylock couldn’t cook shit, he thought. Shake should start cooking their lunch before that chief of a man poisoned him.
Shake’s hands were shaking, but he didn’t want to stand up. He glanced at the non-shake-shaped door. It was closed. The sight of Frylocks electrized eyes showed in front of his. He was so done with him. For real this time. Sure, he did zap him once or twice, but it was out of emotions, in moment, quick. He apologized right after.
Is he that mad now? Would he cool down eventually or it’s a new dumb issue to deal with? Does he hate me?
Shake fell to the ground as his throat stuffed again. He actually hurled this time, creating a mess on the grass. In that mess, he found some strange pink flake. He picked it up with tips of his fingers.
A petal?