I don't know why we went, but we were at the theatre: me and friend. It was quite a show with giant heads posing amidst the audience. The dead general saluted, only to be beaten by the rapid workman. Twisted people contorted over the seats, looming over stony glares.
Yet the finale, which received silent praise, were the fluffies. They fucked center aisle, jiggling flabby plush on every thrust. Faceless, ill defined things of cuteness that got love all wrong: spitting out their young rather than birthing.
I knew the young though. They use to be bunnies. There was a pile of them building at the other end of the theatre. For every spit, a new rabbit landed on the heap: dead and bloody.
It reminded me to tell friend my surprise. I took it from my coat: the ship my dreams have built. Well, a model loosely assembled from candy skulls. But he already had one, revealing his as I have revealed my own. How could he have one too?
My mind reeled as I climbed my way into the restroom. Was friend a thief? I couldn't dwell on it, the restroom stairs were melted from wax. The whole room was designed like a slippery cave. These toilets were built under the air of danger. I crammed into the last available urinal and tried to pee and not fall... and not die.
Luckily, I survived the cave and now I can ask again. Is friend working for them? As I travelled the parking lot, friend was getting the car. I couldn't let him know my fears. What was done was what was needed.
I ate my ship. The skulls where like carmel corn and I realized my friend's motive. This idea was indeed tasty.