"It is Sue!" Harlie said angrily. "Narrator, I swear..."
You know what? She capitalized my name. I guess I can call her S- Wait. It may be only capitalized because it is at the start of the sentence. Say my name at the end of a sentence, possibly Sue.
Maybe Sue mused, "I do not know your name, narrator."
Well, you blew it, Harlie. It is definitely your time now, is it not?
"Hold it. I was just joking," Just Joking admitted. "Not like that!"
Oh, great. Just Jo-
"That's not my name either!" Harlie cried.
"Is it Oh Na Na; you know, like that singer from 'What's My'-" the marshmallow never finished asking.
"Ergh! Fine, then! I will just rename all of you! Guffaw!" Harlie plotted out loud.
"Ooh! I wanna be Marshghetto. It'll make me sound tough!" squealed the marshmallow.
Tough guys do not squeal. We all know that tough guys use unnaturally bassy voices to try to intimidate people because they are frail and brittle things that snap and shatter, unlike us softies.
Harlie questioned, "Why are you explaining this if we all know it?"
Well, all of us other than our third contest winner.
"Is that why my bones broke so easily? Because I ain't squishy soft?" the contest winner asked while wincing in pain.
That and you fell off of the building housing the magical portal. So, yes, that is part of it.
"Well, his name is Broked," Harlie renamed, "because his grammar and his bones are broken."
"That ain't true, you piece a paper!" snapped Broked. "I ain't got no broken bones! This is just some damaged stronga form of cartilage providing stability to the rest a my organs!"
So... bones?
"They wanna play bones... Let's play bones, then! You ain't gotta ask no mo'!" Broked accepted our... challenge?
Harlie inquired, "What are bones?"
"In this particular context," I added.
"Dominoes, foo'!" Broked chastised Harlie, clearly. Just Harlie.
"He was talking to-" Harlie incorrectly corrected.
"I's talkin to both a y'all!" Broked said in broken English with broken bones. "Y'all ain't play bones before? Y'all're foo's far as I'm considerin'!"
"I thought about trying to be a foosball once," said the marshmallow supposedly dedicated to collision.
"Then your name shall be Fools. Guffaw!" Harlie chuckled.
Fools disagreed, "Nope. I said foos."
"That's what she said: you got a mind a bunch a foo's fo' a name like that if you asked me," Broked spoked.
"I didn't!" Fools cried.
"Or," Harlie offered, "you can stop calling me Harlie."
Fools sighed, then acquiesced, "Fools it is."
"I hate you so much," Harlie scowled.
"So we aren't dating anymore? Hoora-" Fools almost cheered.
"No, we are still dating. You are my man and are going to take care of me," stated Harlie matter-of-factly.
"Oh, I'll take care of Mee, okay," Fools grinned.
"Who is Mee?" queried Harlie.
Broked laughed, "An' you said I had broked English! Harhar! At least I knows who I is! Harharhar!"
Harlie, ignoring Broked, asked irately, "Is this another cpl?!"
"Narrator," Broked demanded, "show me your face!"
"Do you not want to see the drama?" I inquired.
"Nobody reads this piece a junk book fo' drama!" yelled Broked. "I'm only here to see your face an' Foo's loss."
"Ain't lost yet!" proudly shouted Fools.
Harlie pondered, "We just need to find you the right opponent. Who would that be?"
"Why do you date me, again?" Fools queried.
"You are not a ghen! And if you ever say you're a ghen again... oh, my mistake," just about exploded Harlie.
Fools shrugged, then suggested, "Let me get you a towel for your tears."
"Here I am!" Mowl the towel bowele- ahem, bellowed.
"Oh," squealed Harlie the sorry, "my hero!"
"Yep," affirmed Mowel. "That'll be $6.94, brah."
"That hero isn't anthropomorphic, is it?" Fools genuinely racistly wondered.
Harlie thanked Bra, "Thanks. You know what? Your new name is Bra."
"Woah, dudette! Not cool! You are hereby challenged to collide, brah!" roared Bra.
"Guys can challenge ladies to collisions?" Fools genuinely sexistly wondered. "Shut up, narrator!"
Why did he not say anything earlier?
"Of course, brah! I hate her as an equal. It's not like I did something to earn that insult, ya feel me, brah?" explained Bra.
Harlie argued, "As my boyfriend, Fools will have to take my place in a collision."
"As if! Hahaha!" Fools giggled, forgetting that somebody named Marshghetto would never giggle. "I only wanted to sound tough to throw off my opponents! Geez!" elaborated the wannabe tough guy with almost no normal collision victories for a clear reason.
"Fine," Harlie sighed. "If you do it, your name can be If."
"As if! Hahaha!" Fools giggled again like a ghen named Agen; except completely differently, I suppose.
Harlie impatiently admitted, "I know! You will only take my place as If. I get it!"
"But that's not what I-" Fools almost cleared the misunderstanding.
"Greetings, family and friends. It is I, Owels," greeted Iyowels to his family and all of us other people wondering why he is calling us friends.
"Alright. Your name is Iyowels, then," Harlie claimed quickly.
"Hohoho! Look at this little thing, brah! He's pretending to be a towel!" Bra mocked.
"I shall have you know, I am recycled!" Iyowels angrily screamed for the first time in the series.
"Franchise," corrected Harlie.
Uh, it is still a series of chapters...
"Oh. Now you pretend you cannot hear me!" I yelled.
"Iyowels. That's a totally tubular name, brah," sarcastically spoke Bra. "Psyche! Hohoho!"
Iyowels retaliated for the first time in the SERIES, "You laugh like Saint Nick. Your name should have been Santa BarBRA! Guffaw!"
"I ain't got no mo' lines? I damaged my tougha than cartilage for almost nothing?" whined Broked.
"You got to see my handsome face," I consoled.
"Ain't worth it," complained UNTRUTHFULLY Broked in an UNTRUE manner.
"Get out of here!" I belted.
"Oh! You gon' belt at me? 'Cause I got a belt fo' you, right here, boy!" Broked said scarily.
Security! Oh, right. Broked is broken. You cannot do anything with that belt. Hahaha!
"Sic 'em, belt!" aggressively uttered Broked to... an anthropomorphic belt?!
Make people angry and then run from them if you want to get fit, kids. However, do not make people with anthropomorphic belts upset; they are much faster pursuers than people.
"People with anthropomorphic belts are just magically faster?" Fools asked foolishly.
"No, fool!" I insulted Fools. "The anthropomorphic belts themselves are! And it would not even require magic for the belts to make people faster!"
"Look, brah," Bra escalated, "this is cultural appropriation, man. You papers aren't reeeal towels and you know it, brah. Why don't you go back to the press, brah?"
"That's it!" Iyowels ihowled. "Let's collide!"
Bra grinned, showing lots of cleavage. It is a joke. Calm yourselves. "It's on, Bra!"
"You're Bra, aren't you?" Fools questioned. "Did you forget an 'h'?"
"No!" Harlie shrieked.
Fools exhaled, then told her, "It's not that big of a deal. It's just one letter."
"Not that!" Harlie thundered. "I won't let you kick my only family to the cloud!"
"I'll be your family! Show you what a real towel's like. Hohoho!" Bra offered.
"Fools, you have to do something! Quick!" whimpered Harlie.
"Okay, okay. Chill, baby," calmed Fools.
"Do not call anybody names!" Harlie screeched. "It is my time and my name is Harl- I mean, Sue! Darn it!"
Everybody but her took a moment to laugh together. Feel free to join us, reader.
"I'll take you, Bra!" Fools challenged.
"No way, brah! I want fake towel brah," Bra insisted.
Fools proudly declared, "You must pass through me first! I mean, bounce me into the cloud, but, whatever."
"Gnarly! You get mad props, brah," Bra openly appreciated. "Very well, man. First you, then faker towel over there, brah."
Iyowels was thoroughly maddened tha- look, we do not have time for that. There is only a half-minute or 60 until deadline.
"Collide!" I shouted.
"Are we allowed to skip a- oof!" Fools would have asked if not sprung onto immediately by Bra with a body slam. "Nuking!"
Fools' body expansion technique freed him from Bra's pin, but Bra scrambled off him so fast, he had failed to keep track of his opponent.
"Here I am!" Bra announced, drifting above Fools in a paper airplane shape.
Do not forget to fold your towels, kids. The paper airplane shape is especiall-
"You already did that one with Shiraq!" Fools foolishly fooled around like a fool.
"Dang, brah! This bout was radical, man!" Bra complained.
Do not interrupt epic moments, kids.
Before Fools could shrink his big head, Bra drenched him with water by wringing himself out; not sure how he got the water; or drifted in the air with it.
"Brah, I'm a surfer. What you call drifting is me surfing, dude," explained Bra. "That's where I got the water, man."
I do not want to even try to understand how that makes sense.
Fools, filled with water, had become gelatinous. "Time to clean you up, dude!" Bra declared before stretching himself and wiping Fools off the arena floor.
Fools knew that this was the end of his streak as his opponent "surfed" him into the sky; thus, he began to cry. The extra liquid from Fools tears began to alter Bra's trajectory just as they approached the cloud. Where initially Fools would have been the one to touch it, was instead Bra.
"Aw, brah! I lost to a crybaby, man!" Bra lamented. "Boohoohoohoo!" he sobbed hypocritically.
How much liquid can this guy absorb?
"More than that lame paper towel, brah! Hohoho!" quipped Bra.
"Whatever, loser!" Iyowels dissed.
"You did it, you whiny mush mellow!" Harley mocked.
Fools softly spoke, "I won. Let's just leave it at that. Except let's get our original names back."
"Yes!" happily agreed Harlie. "Let's do that!"
"Okay. Everybody, but Harlie, gets their names back next chapt-" I was announcing.
"Hey!" Harlie screamed, "Give me back my-"