"Whoo! Today is gonna be a good day!" Marshfellow beamed, newly single.
"Hold it!" shouted Harlie. "He is not single! He has me!"
"Aww, man..." Marshfellow groaned upon realizing that he was not single.
For what reason do you even choose to be with her?
"Ugh! Just do not even ask, okay?" Marshfellow snapped. "News flash: all of her family is gone now!"
"But Owels was here last chapter!" I reminded everybody.
"Yeah, but you said we didn't have time for him last chapter. So now we don't even know why he's on the cloud right now..." morosely explained Marshfellow.
Does anybody care though?
We waited a few hours before somebody came forth, screaming, "I do!"
Marshfellow cheered, "Narrator's getting married! Hooray!"
"Please! Somebody handsome as me could do better than that," I bragged. "Like our fourth contest winner. Did you see her yet? She looks like the reader if the reader is a female."
"Oh, mama!" Marshfellow imagined. "Mama would be glad to meet a woman like that!"
"Ahem," Harlie interrupted. "You've got a woman like this!" she said, twirling.
"Headline: not sure if she's going to like this," Marshfellow teased.
You know, you guys sound a lot like each othe-
"Shut up!" they both shouted simultaneously.
"What marvelous, attractive candor," Harlie swooned.
Okay. That is enough making references to what has been said in past chapters! Even the writer has to go back just to make sure he is copying it correctly. I do not even know how many times we have done this already, but stop it!
"Ugh, whatever!" Marshfellow exclaimed disrespectfully.
"I said I do!" said the woman.
Look, I just said- oh, that is from this chapter, is it not? Unless you are referencing Shiraq. Wait. How do a marshmallow and a newspaper make a relationship wo- Or a newspaper and a cinnamon pretzel lady? Or a- Well, I guess a cinnamon pretzel with marshmallow dip would not be so bad...
"Ahem!" she throat cleared. "I do! I care about Owels. I was his wife, but now I am newly single!"
"Ohh..." we exhaled in tandem, now comprehending the chapter title.
"I don' get it," said contest winner number four. She is only just smart enough to read this book. Super pretty though; like you, female reader.
"My man is gone, so I guess I have to find a new one. Headline!" she surmised.
"Headline: that's not how you do a headline statement!" chastised Harlie.
"You are using contractions! I know your mother taught you and your brother better than that! News flash!" Noilette Hater retaliated.
"Huh. Guess I was," remarked Harlie. "Still, it was your fault that my brother ever became recycled! He just had to start acting like his wife, did he not?"
Noilette shouted, "There is nothing wrong with being a paper disposable good!"
"Uh, breaking news: being disposable does not- I mean, doesn't sound so good," Marshfellow claimed. "Writer, can we please stop sounding like each other? We get it. We're in relationships and certain traits got exchanged. Move on!"
"Well, I need a new husband!" Noilette declared. "You! Marshmallow! What is thine name?"
"Oh, no, you do not!" shrieked Sue. She has not been sorry in a while.
"That is my man!" shrieked Harlie. I do not think their relationship is one in which she should confidently make comments like that and thus, she is, once again, very sorry.
"Who would want to be with a marshmallow? Pffft! Ee ee ee!" Noilette giggled.
"Who would want to be with toilet paper?" Harlie asked snarkily.
Noilette smirked, "Owels."
She has got you there.
"Marshmallow," she continued, "I need you to tell me if you know of an orange cloud."
"Deon?" Marshfellow queried.
"Yes!" excitedly exclaimed Noilette. "Where is he?"
"Off on an adventure, I guess that way," pointed the contest winner.
Marshfellow yelled, "Who asked you?"
"She said 'Marshmallow'," responded Marshmallow, apparently.
Female readers, thanks for being so beautiful. I mean, look at her! Since she looks like you, she is just incredibly attractive. You guys reading this have got to see this!
Marshfellow pointed, "He's actually that way, madam."
"Thank you, marshmallow," Noilette said kindly. "The next man I find that defeats him, I'll marry that man!"
"You're welcome!" Marshmallow gleefully exclaimed.
Marshfellow groaned, "This is getting pretty annoying."
What? Cannot stand when there is another marshmallow in the story? Although Orenthal Marshpello was very obnoxious. But this one: she is hot! Male readers would want to see this.
"Not that, you dumb narrator!" crassly conversed Marshfellow with the best looking male character. Marshmallow wins for female characters; she is lovelier than cinnamon pretzel ladies!
"I'm not bothered by Marshmallow. I can't stop looking at her; it's like reading an amazing book," admitted Marshfellow in an amazing book. "It's annoying that I keep having side characters go to Deon. You did not even get to narrate most of them first. I could've been with Veller at least."
"Hey!" yelled Harlie. "I am right here! And what does a brick of cheese have that I do not?"
"A fatha tha' wants to help her get married, las' time I checked," educated Marshmallow.
"Get out of this book!" Harlie grimaced.
"Okie dokie," Marshmallow responded. "Bye, everybody!"
Wait! She did not get to see my face! If only she did, she would stay with me. Now I am newly single.
Marshfellow boomed, "She wasn't with you. I could've had her if I wanted!"
"No, you could not! News flash: I am right here!" Harlie screeched.
"You are everywhere," mumbled Marshfellow. "You just had copies of yourself delivered to every doorstep this morning. How histrionic."
"Narcissistic, but thank you," Harlie thanked facetiously.
Both of those can overlap, for the record.
"Hoohoo! What a sturdy lookin' woman!" chuckled a familiar voice if you read the spinoff.
"Who're you?" Harlie inquired.
Burgers the fuhrer replied, "I'm Burgers the fuhrer; aka Burgers Fillo the perfect pillow! An' you're?"
Oh, a pillow would be best hidden amongst other pillows. Still does not explain how he got his escape from prison achieved.
"I hid in a broken mattress bein' sent to the trash; that I broke! Dang, fool! Stop sweatin' me!" hollered the pillow at a far more handsome character. "I'm jus' tryna holla at the sturdy-lookin' cutie o'er here."
"Marshmallow left already. She was basically as hot as any female reader reading this ri-" Marshfellow tried to explain.
"Quiet!" Burgers blasted. "I'm talkin' 'bout this fine newspaper I saw all o'er the streets this mornin'."
We all were very confused.
"Are you talking about Harlie?" Marshfellow queried.
Burgers mentioned offhandedly, "I s'pose."
"You think I am sturdy? Wow..." Harlie spoke, flabbergasted. "My parents would be so mad if I dated you."
"You made your mother mad for dating me," remarked Marshfellow.
"You dated my mother?! Eww!" screamed Harlie.
Marshfellow exhaled, "Why do you always go there?"
They tend to have the best deals aro- Oh, you were talking to her.
"Look, lady," began Burgers, "I don't feel like takin' it slow with a woman of yo' roughness. How boutcha come to my place lata?"
At first, Harlie was giddy upon being invited, but eventually said giddiness turned into rage; explained with her question, "Marshfellow! Why are you not over here claiming me for yourself?!"
"Huh? Okay, sure," relented Marshfellow. He walked toward Burgers, muttering almost facetiously, "Give me back my woman..."
Harlie rolled her eyes at the blatant lack of effort.
"I'll take her off yo' hands if you don't want her..." offered Fillo.
"Really? Thanks! She's been a real handful..." excitedly exclaimed Marshfellow.
Harlie scantily scowled with scorn scarily. Cannot think of more "sc" words for that context this morning.
Marshfellow bet, "How about this? We collide and the loser takes Harlie with him to the cloud so that the world never has to suffer from her shenanigans ever again like a ghen named Agen?"
"Deal!" said Burgers confidently.
Harlie was profusely reddenin- Nevermind, that is just a picture of a red business building on the front cover. She is just as red as earlier.
The crowd was hyper. Burgers had an immense reputation as a protester, a fuhrer, and as a perfect pillow; Marshfellow as a super-lucky, cheap, and barely victorious marshmallow. It was going to be a good match; if Burgers won, that is.
"You can do it!" Harlie supported openly Marshfellow for once.
"You dang-well skippy betta believe I k'n!" replied Burgers.
"News flash: I was not talking to you!" she shouted to Burgers.
"Thanks, baby!" Marshfellow responded.
"Ugh!" Harlie stopped talking, cross with her arms crossed.
"Let us get rrrready to rrrrumblllle!" I bellowed comfortably because Rillo was not there anymore.
Everybody waited in anticipation; then boredom. After about five minutes, somebody asked, "What're we waitin' for?"
"I wanted to make sure we were all ready," I uttered on the microphone.
"We are!" boomed all but three people in the arena; I was one of them.
"Golly, mister! Thanks fer waitin'!" said a thankful child who dropped his watch under the stand. Oh, and Sue still is not talking to anybody.
"Thank you for calling me Sue, again!" Harlie expressed pridefully; then she went back to being silent, cross, and arms-crossed because she got called Harlie again. "I'm not a ghen!" Sue shrieked fervently; then she relaxed a little because she was called Sue ONCE MORE. Still, though, this thing could be fun.
"Collide!" I commanded. Do my bidding, colliders! You are my puppets and I am the master! You shall obey me and bounce into one another until the bitter end! Hahahah-
"I forfeit," smirked Burgers, disillusioning my grandiosity regarding my control over colliders and collision in general.
Marshfellow laughed, "Hahaha! I figured. Still counts as a win, right, referee?"
"Yes, unfortunately," I grumbled.
"Awww..." the crowd sighed disappointedly.
"Marshfellow, why?" Harlie inquired; then then crossed her arms with attitude upon being called Harlie.
"I didn't forfeit. Ask him," Marshfellow pointed Sue towards Burgers.
Harlie relaxed a little after being called Sue, but is now cross again from being called Harlie again.
"Headline: I'm not a ghen!" she shrieked.
"Oh, I k'n see that!" Burgers proudly told her. "Come wit' me to the cloud, Sue."
Sue looked around at all the people she had met and would have to leave behind. She tried imagining life without them in it; as well as what life on the cloud would be like. With all things considered, Harlie knew she could not go, so she- Oh, she is leaving now with Burgers. I guess she really does not like being called Harlie.
Once Burgers slammed himself into the ground, bouncing high into the air with Harlie on his back, just nipping the edge of the cloud; Marshfellow, relieved, exclaimed, "I'm newly single! Whoo!"