Marshfellow: The Softest of Them All

"Orange," I said. "He is an orange-colored cloud, not banana-colored. Why would you even refer to something as banana-colored instead of just yellow? With speckled brown, I guess."

Minutes later, Deon asked me, "What did he say?"

"You know how somebody inattentive would spin a top on top of a table, but close to the edge of it?" I began. "What does the top tend to do?"

"Fall off?" guessed Deon.

"Close."

"Drill through the wood?"

"Further," I remarked, unamused.

"Shatter the table into a million pieces?"

"No! The table is made of fortified metal!"

"Oh!" Deon excitedly shouted. "It explodes!"

"Are you even tr-" I sighed disappointedly. "The top will spin off..."

Deon, puzzled, admitted, "I do not get it."

That is enough! Cue the theme song already... Oh, we are still waiting on the anime adaptation. Just get me away from this idiot, please.

Hello, I'm the narrator for the spinoff. I don't like you and you don't like this, so let's just get this over with, shall we? Some loser named Deon-

"Hey! I chose to win more honorably. That does not qualify one as a-" said the loser, Deon, losingly. I run this story and you shall obey my command.

Deon yelled, "Never! I commit to a battle with thee! Lest you be a coward."

Let's go, loser. I'll show you what a real narrator can do!

"You mean repeat the same insult for an entire spinoff adventure? How impressive..." sarcastically spoke Deon, the lose- be quiet, you los- just- ugh, whatever; you're a loser.

"The competition is simple," Deon declared. "Whoever amasses the most fanatics by the end of this chapter wins."

Ha! This'll be easy because you're such a- person who loses often, I suppose.

Deon wagered, "If I win, you must not only leave my story alone, but must retire from narration permanently."

Fine. But if I win, you must change your name to Loser!

"So be it, if that risk is necessary to save readers-" Deon halted his words upon the realization that he did not know what a reader was. "Uh, is anybody out there watching this? Can you hear me?"

What a loser. Look, readers, obviously, I'm the superior figment of the writer's imagi- ouch! Hey! What the-

"Watch your tongue, sir, before I have to silence you manually," Deon the CHEATER threatened to me, the victim.

This is against the rules! And how is a cloud using blunt- aargh, okay, okay! I quit!

"Nobody said how to get more fanatics... ah, he has hastily retreated. Well, nonetheless, a forfeiture of an opponent is a victory for an ally. So with victory at hand..."

Finally. On is this thing? This is Deon, lower mortals. If you respect my superiority, I-

Give me this! I did not want to believe I had to come back to this lame story. This is worse than the marshmallow. Well, it is I, the handsome narrator, so desperate for work that I'm telling you cloud news. My life... my handsomely miserable life...

Deon boomed, "Be grateful to observe my glory! Now then, how do I obtain honor?"

I do not know. Rob a bank?

"Perfect!" exclaimed Deon. "By removing the bank's resources, I shall amass more honor than ever!"

Do not rob banks, kids.

I was joking! Not about kids not robbing banks; that was serious; I digress. How would you even try robbing a well-guarded facility like that? Walk in there playing disco music while offering free burgers?

"Capital idea, sir!" Deon joyously sho- oh, my goodness, please do no-

At the bank, Deon walked in, ugh... playing a catchy 70's track whilst wearing a sign that said "free burgers".

"Yeah, we should free Burgers!" some passerby screamed.

Slowly a chant began to build. "Free Burgers. Free Burgers. Free Burgers! FREE BURGERS!"

"The opportunity is nigh!" echoed Deon amidst the chanting. He ran into the area behind the teller's window, approached the teller who had the keys to the vault, and... hoisted her over his shoulder only to run outside; eventually yelling, "Mission complete!"

Do not take people, kids.

"Yeah!" shrieked the teller. "Now let's go free Burgers, baby!"

"Uh," Deon, confused, asked, "how do I free burgers?"

Not burgers, Burgers! As in the protestor in jail named Burgers!

"Oh. Thanks, narrator," thanked Deon to I, the narrator.

The teller inquired, "Who is narrator?"

"He is the man I hear telling my story and gave me the idea to rob the bank of their women and free Burgers so I could amass great hon-" explained Deon.

"Okay, look, honey. You crazy, but if you gonna free Burgers, then I'm with it. Let's do this!" the teller rationalized. "Hi, ho, Silver!"

Deon the peon introduced himself, "Deon the peon is how I introduce myself. I do not know this Silver character; whether he is a horse, hedgehog, or otherwise, it is no use. Pray tell, what is your title, milady?"

"Veller. Veller the... feller," Veller the teller lied to the crazy person.

"You fell people? How marvelous! We were destined to intertwine fates as comrades," he boasted as she sighed. "We are off to free Burgers!" He backed himself into a running start, then asked quietly, "Which direction is it?"

Up, moron.

"Up more on it is then?!" Deon jumped. He floated up into the sky until Veller could no longer breathe.

Veller coughed, "Down... you fool... [hack]."

"Down?" Deon inquired. "Okay. Let us interrogate the pillows by removing their down."

Viewer discretion is- well, up to you, I guess, but do not let your travel-sized pillows watch this.

Deon sailed to the nearby pillow factory and demanded, "Give me Burgers, your down, or your honor! Any of these refused will be met with a challenge to collide!"

"I pick collision," said one. "Yeah, me too," said two simultaneously. "Me three," said a fourth.

Eventually, a line formed with all of the pillows around actively addressing Deon's words.

"I finally caught my breath," Veller stated with attitude, "and this is what I'm dealin' with? What happened to freeing Burgers?"

Deon informed her, "this is how we shall free Burgers. One of them shall know where he is most likely."

"I'm here," shouted Burgers.

"Burgers!" Veller rejoiced. "I'm so glad to see you! Please, save me from this luna- hey! Wait a minute! You're not Burgers!"

"Well, actually, I am. Just no relation to the one probably expected," he stated in monotone disappont- wait, he knew it wasn't him and still responded; questionable.

"Burgers!" Veller cried, to which was responded, "over here."

"You're not Burgers!" Veller confronted her deceiver.

"Yeah, but I wish I were. That was the first physical contact I have had in months!" the stranger claimed after being hugged by Veller. "You got anything else for Burgers?" he asked perversely.

"Burgers!" Veller began whimpering. "I'm here," a response called back. "Finally!" exclaimed Veller... until, "What? You're not Burgers!"

"I know. I just thought it'd be funny; also it's kinda weird that you know what this guy looks like, but have no idea what he sounds li-"

Veller threatened, "Quiet before I make you quiet!"

"Yes, ma'am," the fellow replied nervously.

"It's useless. We have no leads," Veller spilled dejectedly.

"Did you consider checking prison for prisoners? I am too handsome to be doing work like this," I said so that Veller could hear me. "I am the narrator by the way."

"Oh, my gosh!" Veller screamed. "Either you're real or I'm crazy."

"Well," I slowly began, "they are not really mutually exclusive."

Suddenly, another voice said depressingly, "I'm here."

"It ceased being funny last time. End your foolishness at once!" Deon requested.

"It wasn't funny the first time!" argued Veller.

"It truly was, haha!" teased Deon. "Maybe it is one of those things that one simply had to have been there to comprehend."

"I was there!" Veller rebutted.

"I'm here," the mystery voice reclaimed.

"Burgers," Veller spoke softly, "is that you?"

"No, it's Fries. Obviously, it's me!" said Burgers, at first sarcastic. "How are you gonna mix me up with all the other guys here, girl?"

"That's what I said," said the third imposter.

Veller walked over to the fellow to quiet him; he cowered more and more every step she took closer, eventually reaching him. She reached down, lifted him off the floor, and... rocked him while singing a lullaby. He giggled briefly, then fell asleep without even a snore.

"That is one way to quiet somebody," stated Deon, puzzled.

Burgers shrieked, "You better explain that, girl!"

"What?" Veller asked, trying to determine why Burgers was upset. "You jealous or somethin'?"

"Yes!" Burgers screamed. "And for that matter, who the heck is that guy?" He motioned towards Deon.

"Better question is how you got out of prison," I changed the subject.

"Better question is how I'm supposed to derive honor from this situation," digressed Deon.

Do not try to get honor, kids.

Deon, appalled, bellowed, "What kind of moral is that?!"

"Woah! What is he freakin' out about?" questioned Burgers.

"I don't know. Maybe the narrator?" Veller supposed correctly.

"I have this thing where I give public service announcement morals," I explained. "This one was 'do not try to get honor, kids.'"

"What's wrong with getting honor?" Veller inquired, visibly confused.

"Do you really want another one, [sigh], of those in the world?" I said while witnessing Deon flex his droplets in the mirror.

"No," Veller plainly stated. "One is enough."

"Indeed. One chapter of you people is enough. I would rather deal with Tug now," snidely commented I.