A Finishing Coke
Pokkle frowned, brows furrowed. With his now SMASHED magnifying glass and MISSING butt-ler he couldn’t see the content of the Whatsapp group message.
Fukazawa typed on his phone furiously, glittering tears streaming down his face. Whenever he thought about his lovely cohort of hardworking students he couldn’t help but get overly emotional. His chest soared with pride, fingers trembling as his thumb and forefinger were hard at work, caressing the surface of his most prized possession. After all it was what he used to communicate with his son when he was so far away, in the common room or on all fours. Ranpo was waiting impatiently, perched on the edge of the desk.
“Hello gals and gays,” Kunikida read from his phone. Him and the rest of the young Oxbridge hopefuls were in the common room in various states of disarray, some still in partial cross-dress, some still in Victor’s old binbags, “Tis I, your dicktator. Fuck-u-zawa. Please kinkily find your way to the Great Hall, use the back entrance as the front one is being waxed. I recently came across the Play-BOY magazine and it...AROUSED an artistic desire within me.”
“Waaaaa! Will he kill us all now?” Tamaki cried excitedly.
“It could be worse. What if he expels us?” Kyoya fretted, tapping the bridge of glasses anxiously.
“Lets go and find out!” Dazai cried, invigorated at the thought of a mass extinction of the Oxbridge class. A homo-cide, if you will.
-
Fukuazawa was awaiting them on the grand stage, surrounded by the teachers. Everyone was there.. Victor, Hawkeye, Other Hawkeye, Mustang, Levi, Shanks, Tomoe, Kaname. Just yesterday the stage was being used to film Kakashi’s latest project, 365 Days, starring Tonpa’s decayed and rotten corpse. Shanks had been particularly enthusiastic about the portrayal, begging to play the other lead role. But unfortunately he just wasn't attractive enough to meet Tonpa’s level. It HAD to be realistic. Kakashi was insistent about that, and so he starred in the movie himself. But now, will fresh blood be spilt on this stage?
Kyoya watched the display with disappointment. After all, he’d put himself in charge of ensuring the prestigious university Oxbridge university raised the most money for charity, and now Oxbridge’s prestige was being put into question. A feeling of dread pinched his eyes and he had to look up toward the ceiling lest his allergies embarrass him.
Ace had wordlessly carried Chopper into the Great Hall. Initially the beast bleated for freedom, kicking its remaining two legs around, but when Ace refused to relent the rodent had fallen into silence. Little did Chopper know that Ace had planned to nab the nuisance and skin him, reselling his fur as a jacket in his booming second-hand jacket business.
“Will you turn your attention to this projector pwease?” Ranpo announced, glasses ON dick OUT. This meant SERIOUS business.
A flicker of desire shot through Mustang’s gaze. Ranpo was the one delicacy on campus that he was not allowed to taste, and if it weren’t for his good friend Fukazawa Mustang would have shown Ranpo how a RAEL Daddy pleased his baby boi...
The wall was alight with the flickering of moving pictures. A figure was formed- a familiar face, a familiar turban. Could it be??? POKKLE?
No, alas, it was not him. It was the famoose reporter, distinguished amongst his peers. Uvogin. Today was national Pokkle day- a celebration of all the misery he had brought to the land of Goo. And every man worth his salt, every politician and national figure dressed up as the beast himself, in hopes of being spared from his inevitable wrath when he returned to this earth, alive once more winky face. Uvo made quite the sight, dressed in the purple turban and nothing else, his Pokkle’s Pocket taut and ready for what cums next.
“This is Uvo, and I'm here reporting LIVE from my bedroom. Please subscribe to my Onlyfans for more exclusive content.” He winked at the camera sexily. In the background of the shot one could see Uvogin had decorated his room with the fallen beast, artistic recreation of what Pokkle looked like strung skinless off the ceiling like a hunk of curing meat.
Kakashi pulled out his mobile phone and using the Oxbridge expense account purchased a premium subscription of Uvogin’s Onlyfans which promised ‘one’s utmost dreams to come true’. Kakashi knew what his dream was. He usually used his fist for fighting, but this time he wanted to use it for making love.
Uvogin continued, “But first let me announce the money Knottingham Trent and Oxbridge have raised for charity on his mighty day of Pokkle!”
Tomoe shook his head. He’d never met the beast, but surely such a depiction of him was merely distasteful?
The Oxbridge students watched Uvogin in fear. No, not because they had all been traumatised by Pokkle. This was the moment when they would have to reveal to their teachers the results of their endeavours. A day of wasted efforts, bringing shame onto the school. Atsushi had even revealed his Pokkle’s Pocket to the nation on TV! Everyone must have seen it! He was, like, soooo embarrassing!!! Would Shougo ever talk to them again??? Zoro would miss that cheeky boi, and for all the right reasons. Who else would do anything for a laugh???? No one but the maddest lad mad lad Shougo.
Atsushi was stuck in the medical wing. He was quite sure there were a few kinder eggs wedged up in his anal canal, but until Yosano emerged from where she was hidden then they would remain up there. Kaname had tried to find the nuggets of cocaine but had ended up losing his favourite glove in Atsushi’s cavern. He’d dug around trying to find that too, but was fearful for losing his WHOLE hand up the young lad’s pocket and conceded. Asshole: 1, Kaname: 2225. He did like his pockets young and virile, flexible and malleable. Twas no surprise he had spent so many hours of so many days enveloped in pockets. Twas why he became a priest, to have access to young and insecure pockets, to enjoy them the way one enjoyed a finely-brewed sake.
Uvogin adjusted the orange wig stuck under the purple hat on his head - it looked oddly sticky, like Ranpo’s ‘fizzy drinks’ he enjoyed in Fukazawa’s office had drenched it, “Headmaster Fukuzawa has been gloating all day on Twitter that his students could raise more than the prestigious university, Knottingham Trent University, and now is the time to see the results!”
“But that university is disgusting!” the students cried collectively. Tamaki stood in disgrace, screaming like a wounded beast. But they all quietened when they remembered the inevitable results of the broadcast. If Knottingham Trent was disgusting, what did it make them, who couldn't even raise more money?
Fukazawa’s lip tightened. He didn’t even have any more tears to give, which just made him want to cry harder. That and Fukuzawa’s hand wrapped around his shaft.
“And here it is. The results are in! In my hand is an envelope,” He held the envelope aloft in the air for everyone to see. “And in this envelope are the answers to all your questions!”
The room went silent in anticipation. Uvo struggled to tear open the envelope. He looked around nervously as he peeled the back of it off in small strips, letting them drift to the floor, like confetti. Kalluto watched on with unmasked delight; he had just taken off his Killua mask.
Finally the envelope was open. “And the WINNER issssssssss… Knottingham Trent! Raising a pitiful amount of 75 pounds! I make more on my OnlyFans in 2 minutes than they did in a whole day! And what I make is NOTHING in comparison to the Fruit Basket. Alas, he has not returned my calls. Is my penis not large enough for him? Let me know what guys think in the comments below!”
Kyoya’s vision blanked. Was he having a heart attack? His knees fell to the ground, instantly dislocating. A continuous pulsating in his skull gave way to the speed of his heartbeat, which had melded into a single ache. How would he ever inherent his father’s company with such a smear on his record? What kind of businessman’s son would he be if he was not to inherit the entire empire???
“Ah, hold a second guys! WAIT! I'm getting a message through right now!” he pressed his fingers against his earpiece, attempting to isolate the sound coming through it. “I have just been informed RIGHT NOW, that I CANNOT READ! I’m looking at the results right here? What do you meeeaaannn I read the results wrong?” Uvo nodded, face serious as he listened to the voice.
The students gasped and began to mutter to each other in low tones. Could this mean…?
Pokkle watched on with a raging glare. How dare someone so stupid dress in his garb, what kind of sickening mimicry was this?! “He’ll be the first to die!” Pokkle announced to his hellish minions, Thing 1 and Thing 2. “Mark my words,” he screamed, “MARK MY WORDS!”
The pair flinched, looking away. They didn’t even get why Pokkle was, like, soooo pissed - he wore Ciel’s child-size Victorian clothing anyway, who cared???
“Please, deer listeners, accept my most grievous apology. The rael winners are ACTUALLY…”
The students held their breaths, hope fluttering in their chests. Kyoya raised his head, a sickening curdle of hope swimming in his loins. Mustang was ready to welcome the students into his comforting arms and atop his engorged penis. He had (more than once) been described as a bucking bull, feral and animalistic with a cock larger than life.
“Knottingham Trent, with 65 pounds! Yes you heard it here folks! They only raised 65 pounds!”
Fukazawa watched the screen sternly, a frown rippling his blowjob-swollen lips.
“And Oxbridge… they raised… 500,000,000 pounds?!? Waaaaaaaa! So Oxbridge wins! Who would've thought that the BEST University in the WORLD would WIN? How unexpected!”
The first ‘WAAAA’ came from Sasuke, the most well-versed in waaa’ing, his jaw dropped to the ground at the sound of their victory.
Twas Sasuke’s loud ‘WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA’ that began what one might call the waaaaa-arathon,
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!????????????” the students collectively waaaaaaaa’d.
Kyoya laid face down on the floor, heart having finally given out by the sheer stress it had been under for the past few days.
“How is this possible?” Dazai breathed, stepping over Kyoya’s body.
It was Fukuzawa that spoke up, lips full and pouty, dick hard and ready. “Don’t look to me, younglings. It’s all thanks to the unwitting sacrifice of my favourite student: Kenji.”
Kenji gaped alone, his voice echoing around the silent assembly hall. “Waaaaaaaaaaa???”
“He saved me. Nay, he saved us all. He saved our prestigious university, Oxbridge University's prestigious reputation. The teachers and I saw your pathetic excuses of fundraising, and we cried in disappointment. Alas, Shanks almost martyred himself to get away from all of his unfaithful students. And so we searched for something we could do ourselves. But what could we possibly sell that had any value? I am but a humble man, and I spend my paychecks on nothing but the latest Pokkle dildos for my son’s Pokkle Pocket. His pocket is quite demanding you see, and as a good father I must oblige it’s every whim, lest it bar me from its succulent cavern for eternity.
“Hands together for Kenji, this graceful boy. I’m aware that he’s oftentimes forgotten amongst his peers, perhaps even in fanfiction - the fanfiction of life. But now he shall be memorialised in the most prestigious fanfiction Let Me Be The Wallpaper That Papers Up Your Room fanfiction, created by my loyal friend and brothers in arms Sendosenpai studios. Hands together for Sendo!”
Unlike when Fukazawa previously asked for the students to clap for Kenji, this time the room filled with cheers and an excited uproar.
Sendo stood in the corner, clutching his umbrella, knees wobbling with tears staining his face, waiting for his young master Kasanova to take respite beneath the billowing shelter his umbrella provided.
Fukazawa laughed good-naturedly, waving his hand to call for silence, “There there, my kohais. I understand, I too am constantly overwhelmed by the mere thought of having such a talented writer write an accurate non-fiction story about what goes on within these humble yet prestigious walls. However today is about Peggy-”
“Kenji,” Tomoe muttered in his ear, elbowing Fukazawa in his rib.
Fukazawa righted himself as if no mistake had been made, “Today is about Kenji, the student who will never be forgotten again. To rid Oxbridge of the shit-smear that was the attempt of our young hopefuls to raise money for charity, to show our prestige to the nation and usurp Knottingham Trent’s attempts.”
“But what did I doooooo?” Kenji asked.
“Why, you sold the only thing that matters to you. Your farm. And your body. Your shift starts in ten minutes, get to the Oxbridge brothels, your family should be there waiting for you.”
Ranpo tutted. “After all the work L and I put in to saving that farm, finally we made use of it and sold it for something that actually matters. Potato Chips For Prisons.”
Kenji fell to his knees directly onto Kyoya’s ‘unconscious’ body. “My small family, the last remaining survivors of the Pokkle Famine that came so close to destroying us forever. Now we are nothing. We are slaves, stuck in endless servitude to repay a debt we never asked for. All in the name of charity. For Potato Chips For Prisons. Thank you sir! Thank you for giving me this opportunity to prove myself to you! Please, cum visit me any time sir!”
Sasuke looked on in confusion, “Is it not Kenji’s family farm that donated all of the potatoes to the charity Potato Chips for Prisons? How else will they source their organic produce to make the most delicious and crispy crisp in…” Sasuke covered his mouth with a shaking hand, too traumatised to continue. Oh where oh WHERE was Ayato when you needed him???
Kaname cleared his throat and looked away. He’d been the one to buy the farm, offering as little money as the family would accept. He didn’t even want it but he figured it would be an ok enough front for the small drug ring he was running, one which specialised in coke. He’d recently been struggling with his rival the Phantom Troupe.
“We’ll steal the potatoes from Tesco and donate them to the poor,” Tomoe announced.
All of the students, apart from Kyoya who was still ‘passed out’ and Kenji who had left to start his shift at the brothels, nodded.
“Oh well, all’s well that ends well,” Chopper bleated from his wheelchair, turning to leave.
“WAIT!” Fukuzawa cried, crying. “There's one more thing we must discuss…” he said ominously.