GYSO Reviews Part 36 - Just a Flash in the Pan

Published: 2024-03-24

Thim: Henry, you have to cook.

Half an hour ago, Thim was lying on the floor, arms and legs spread like he’s a victim of an old-timey murder show. He hasn’t eaten for two days, the water is still broken, the neighbour hasn’t ordered any alcohol to his porch that he can steal, and so Thim reluctantly turns to his last hope. His only – so called – friend.

Thim: Damn it Henry, you’re a plant, aentcha!?!?

Apparently, the smell of fish filet and the allure of bullying a literal aloe vera plant gave Thim all the energy he needed to go full Gordon Ramsay on this poor bitch-ass motherfucker. Goddamn.

Henry: No sir, Mr. Thim, sir! Try this delicious trail mix!

Thim: FUCK! I Love it!

Henry rustles his… leaf… things, one of which has a tiny paper maché chef hat.

Henry: Thanks!~

Henry gently shakes his pot, causing a previously-white apron that is tied around the base of his pot to lightly shake.

Thim is gently munching on some snacks, slightly calmer now that his insatiable desire to prove his gut feeling had been – ironically – satiated. Thim is, ironically, the kind of guy to get “hangry”, despite being the kind of guy that would get “angry” about someone using the word ‘hangry’ to describe him.

Thim: Two questions for you, buddy. One: Where’d you get all this meat and fish and snacks? And two: …

Thim swallows the final bite of his potato chip, the one chip in the bag he’s eaten all day, then wipes his hands against one another. Then, his face turns beet red as he lunges with his fists drawn against the flying aloe vera plant. Yes he can fly, don’t ask.

Thim: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU FUCKING WORKING FOR YOU FUCKING FUCK?! I WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO FIND OUT, I WILL BREAK YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I WILL BREAK Y…

Unfortunately for Thim, living a sedentary and sedated lifestyle fueled by too much Uranium 235 doesn’t exactly help him execute his flashes of violence with … grace ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

Henry, having started the panacotta dessert, sends a bag of frozen beans towards the battered Thim that is collapsed in the corner of the kitchen. It’s where he had just slipped over the kitchen table trying to attack the only thing trying to keep him alive (ironically enough). Thim caught the package and put it against his new bruise on his head.

Henry: I’m telling you, I don’t work for no one! You could say I’m unemployed, even, by golly. Sorry about the frozen beans, there weren’t any ice packs in the pantry.

Thim: We have a pentry?

Henry: You mean ‘pantry’?

Thim: Oh… That’s gotta be some faulty leftovers from my latest creation, or something.

Henry: It’s in one of the other wings of the mansion. … Wait hang on, by golly, act natural.

Like a flash of lightning from a blue sky, Henry practically throws himself towards his regular windowsill while ‘undressing’ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) removing his apron and chef’s hat, hiding them underneath his pot.

Three loud knocks on the door.

Albert: I’m coming in!

Albert comes through the door. What’s left of the door, that is.

Albert: Jesus B.E.B. Christ, my man! Don’t you konw how to keep out the flash out of the pan?!

There is, indeed, a flash in the pan, now that the chef isn’t overseeing the whole cooking ordeal.

Thim wearily tries to stand up and deal with the kitchen fire. But, Albert takes one, then two, swift and graceful ballet steps towards the stove. Then a twirl, a twist, a spin, effortlessly and elegantly plating two portions of … whatever it is … Henry made. It smells like something’s glazed, though, that’s for sure.

Albert: I’m sure you are wondering why I’ve gathered you here today.

Thim: I live here. Get the fuck out.

Albert: Wait just a moment–

Thim: Three.

Albert: What Th–

Thim: Two.

Albert: Let’s not get–

Thim: One.

Albert: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Thim: DUDE! Don’t screech like that what the fuck! It was like a siren choking! How did you do it that loud?! Hello?! I can’t hear you!

Albert: … muffled [moving his hands in an evocative manner] … nodding his head, pointing outside

Thim: No I don’t want any muffins! Or mufflers, for that matter! Hello?!

It’s as if the time stops.

Albert: ZA WARUDO!!

A spin. A twist. A twirl, and a whisk. The Master of Dance and Seven Pens dares not be bound by our conventional understanding of “communicatoin” using “words”. One of few people in this world that can rise above the English Lanugage (Copyright © GYSO 2024) is standing in the kitchen, and he is using his skills to perfection.

A slight movement of his right arm. A glance at the ceiling. A shift of the hips ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and a pinky finger softly placed up on his lips. Right foot, left foot, a hop. Eyes playfully prancing the room, Albert ends his dance in a pose with one arm on his hips, the other raised above his head with a clutched fist. He’s not in a full split, but he is kind of half-way there.

Maybe thirty seconds has passed since Albert started dancing. Yet, somehow, the message was all too clear.

The ringing has stopped in Thim’s ears. Lucky bastard.

Thim: You’re right. I think I will go and say hi to my new neighbor.

Albert: Damn right you will. And don’t you dare steal packages from this o–

Thim: I don’t do that.

Albert: Cut it out, we’re the government. We know things. Lots of things. And we have an interest in you uWu.

Thim: Did you just fucking uWu at me, Albert? Or should I say … Uhh … Wait, hang on… … F- F- Fart-Albert?

Albert: No. Let’s not stoop to simple name-calling, Grim Thim.

Thim: Whatever, you should hear the aloe vera plant, he puts fucking tildes at the end of his words.

Thim has started eating his food. He gestures for Albert to do the same. Albert misinterprits the previous sentence and starts eating Thim’s food.

Albert: Thank you, but it’s time for me to go. I have military matters to attend to. The Big C is up to his usual shenanigans.

Thim: absent-mindedly Yeah, he really is a big cunt, I guess.

Albert: So, Henry. Been visited by any elves recently?

In the very darkest hour of the previous night, somehow even darker than usual, considering the irradiated nature of the area, Henry shivers.

If you had PSYCHOTIC ABILITIES!?!? you would at this point in time be able to make out a conversation going on right outside the mansion.

Elf: Fucking atrocities. I know a lot about those ayyyyy. But you know, I can’t go around fixing every mistake or whatever, right, otherwise it just wouldn’t be the same?

Elf Two: Yeah I get you, Elf.

Elf: Thanks, Elf Two. You ever think it’s weird how I don’t have a number in my name?

Elf Two: No. Why?

Elf: Nothing. Nevermind. Let’s go hire a plant.

Two ninja-like figures with long ears emerge onto the mansion grounds, almost completely hidden in the darkness.

Elf: Did those long-eared bunnies entering the mansion grounds look weird to you?

Elf Two: Yeah, I’m freaking out a bit here.

Elf: Whatever. Let’s find Henry.

Elf Two: Yay…

The Two elfs. That is, both of the elves that are having this conversation, aren’t moving an inch.

Elf: Yup. Aright. Leeeet’s… go…

But none of them are moving

Elf Two: Honestly I’m really freaked out by those bunnies. Can’t we just wait this out for a b-

Henry: HIYA!

Henry: …no?

Albert: Well, good. If your hear from them, make sure to tell me everything you tell them. Or I’ll sue! Bye!

Thim, looking dumbfounded in the kitchen, walks over with his panacotta to the windowsill that Albert is about to crash out of. Albert misinterprets the previous sentence and steals Thim’s panacotta.

Thim: Well, you better do what he says, Henry. He’s already threated to sue. You know he can pay Snag’darr more than us, we won’t have anyone willing to defend us!

Henry: Nah it’ll be okay lol!~ Don’t you worry about the elfs last night or Melon Musk!

Thim: The what last night?

Henry: The bunnies, I mean! They look a little like elfs with their long ears hahahah~…!

Thim: Damn you can stand to look at those things? You’re a brave plant, dude. Mad respect.

Thim throws up, unable to stand what he just said.

Thim: Anyways, I’m gonna take a nap.

Thim collapses on the spot. This is normal, so Henry doesn’t really do anything.

Tune in next time to find out if how Henry manages to hide his apron under the flower pot. Or his pot. I forgot. It’ll be retcon’d anyways.