A/N: Hi. Here is a new comedy story that I collaborated on with my sisters. It was sort of a round robin where we took turns writing part of it. I hope you like it. And please review.
"Wait up Gregor!" Kremlin yelled, frustrated. "You know these tree stubs of legs of mine don't move at a pace faster than fat turtles that are dead and can't move. That's not very fast is it? No it isn't, now slow down."
The obese, severely obese, Kremlin stopped all of the sudden. She felt really dizzy. Kremlin fell to the ground with a thud. Gregor continued to run, not realizing that Kremlin was left behind.
The good looking Gregor finally realized that his best friend wasn't keeping up with him. 'What the hell?' he thought as he stopped running after the ice cream truck. He turned around to retrace his steps and when he finally found Kremlin he found her…
Or at least he thought she was until he heard a loud sound coming from her that sounded suspiciously like a wolf trying to blow a little piggy's house down. Of course, that was just how Kremlin breathed.
"I can't believe you left me here to die! Did you at least get me a double fudge, triple mocha, chocolate mint, three scoop ice cream cone….Did you!" she screamed.
"Kremlin!" he yelled over her screaming. "You are lying on the ground and all you can think of is ice cream!"
She looked at him with a thoughtful expression on her face and said, "Of course! Now where's my ice cream?"
"Well, of course I have one. I always keep a spare in my purse." Gregor pulled the big green and orange purse off his shoulder. "Now, rainbow sprinkles or chocolate sprinkles?"
"Both you idiot, now help me up." As Kremlin struggled to rise herself from the ground Gregor tried to help her up but it was more difficult than it sounded. "Here's your ice cream Kremlin," he said after she was finally on her two feet.
"Thanks," she said, and quickly tore into it. But a couple of bites into it and Kremlin started gagging it up. It wasn't pretty. And then her eyes started to water.
"Kremlin, what's wrong?" Gregor asked in alarm, right at her side. She couldn't talk. She grabbed at her chest in pain. "Oh my God! Kremlin, we need to get you to a hospital!"
"You bastard!" Kremlin was able to mutter. "YOU BASTARD! I can not believe you. You…you tried to poison me with….CARAMEL!" she screamed as she collapsed to the ground.
Gregor was terrified, absolutely terrified which didn't justify his next move, but was understandable. As Gregor began to dig Kremlin's grave….
In his weird brief daydream, that is.
How could his best friend accuse him of poisoning her? Well he'd figure that out after he got her to the hospital.
But then he realized, caramel isn't poison, and changed his mind about the whole hospital thing. "Listen here, biznatch," Gregor snapped his fingers to get her attention. "You are fat, you're huge, and you're an embarrassment. Your existence is meaningless. I'm your only friend and I wish you were dead."
Kremlin slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out a 9mm. She contemplated shooting Gregor in the head, but then realized she'd kill herself instead. "BANG!"
"Ahhh!" Gregor shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Where the hell are these daydreams coming from? Maybe I should check myself into the psych ward."
"Ugh." The sound came from Kremlin.
"Ok, first things first, 911." Gregor quickly dialed the number. "Yeah, hi. My friend is lying out here on the ground. She's choking and cant' breathe. Where are we? We're outside the 17ave. McDonalds. Come quick!"
"Wee ooo, Wee ooo, Wee ooo," the siren screamed.
"What is that noise? Gregor, you're dead. I'm going to put a sacred death curse on you!"
"You'll thank me soon enough Kremlin," Gregor said as the paramedics grunted while hoisting Kremlin up on to a stretcher.
"I'll get you back for this Gregor Jumbodroge!" Kremlin screamed deliriously. And the ambulance whisked her away.
Kremlin woke up in the hospital. She was still woozy, but she could make out one really hot doctor and a nurse too. They had something to tell her.
"Kremlin, we have something to tell you," the hot doctor said. "You're obese. Severely obese. You're like in major death territory. If you were to like eat, say, I dunno, an extra large double cheese pepperoni pizza, like right now, you'd have like a gigantanormous chance of dying. I'm not even kidding." The doctor laughed. "Not trying to be rude or anything, but bro, you're huge, say what, like 800, 900 pounds?" he finished.
Kremlin's mouth gaped open in shock! Not only was she being called fat by a hot doctor, but…well that's it. Kremlin wanted to correct him and tell him that pizzas didn't come in sizes.
"Kremlin," the doctor began, sympathetically. "You need to lose weight, like right this second! Nope I'm not kidding. What we need to do is set you up on a diet right away."
Kremlin looked horrified. "Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" she screamed, and then at the doctor's non-impressed look said, "Ok, I'm done."
"All right. Your nutritionist will be here in a few minutes," he stated. "Now don't eat him now."
"Unless he's a bucket of home-fried chocolate chip cookies, don't worry, I won't touch him."
After Kremlin's first session with her nutritionist she just wanted to collapse dead. Being called fat five hundred times by at least ten different people was not her idea of an ideal day.
Luckily, Gregor came to visit her later that day. He brought her roses and a box of chocolate, but the nurse, checking her stats, took them away. Kremlin looked defeated.
"Hey Krem," Gregor said. "I won't be around for awhile. I'm going…somewhere." He looked nervous.
"Away? To where?" Kremlin asked.
"I'm checking….up on my plants in China." Gregor looked away. "You know how plants are umm…all needy and what not. Any who, I can't leave them a day longer. I'm leaving in an hour. Good luck Krem."
"Wait!" Kremlin wailed. "My toe itches like a son of a gun; I'd appreciate it if you scratched it."
"Oh thank you!" Kremlin moaned in appreciation, as she scratched her belly.
Gregor stepped out of her room and thought to himself, 'I wish I could tell her the truth. That I'm checking myself into the psych ward. But I'm a crazy psycho. I have to go!' He shook his head in shame and slowly walked down to the psych ward.
Meanwhile, Kremlin sat in her room staring miserably at her dinner. Two broccolis, one thin slice of roast beef and water.
"Screw this!" Kremlin yelled, knocking her plate on the ground. And then she started to cry.
Gregor took a detour into the baby/maternity ward. "Hmm, I shall steal one and call it my own. I shall name him…Jumbanjobijibotron!"
Well that's it. I hope you enjoyed and had a laugh.
Next chapter: Is Gregor having another daydream, or is he actually stealing a baby for his own. Is Kremlin ever going to eat another ice cream cone?
If you like I'll update again. So please review.