In the Universe of God, in the milky way galaxy, in the Sol... solar system, on the 3rd planet from the sun, in the county of America, in the state of North Carolina, in a small neighborhood with woods all around and little play parks between the houses, was a two story, three room house, with green shutters, and a big, cursive M hanging from the front door.
Inside the house, in the living room, on the couch, in front of the TV, behind a coffee table, sat Mark and Monica... Side-by-side.
Monica inhaled deeply through her canid nostrils, and sighed out of her foxish maw as she spoke. "So... It's come back to this." She flicked her bushy, almost fox-like, tail, in foxy irritation, little white bits of fox fur floating off- "They get it, I'm a furry." -And getting the couch covered in stinky, musky hairs. "Eat me."
"Monica!" Mark thrust-ed his arm into the air epic-ally and clenched his fist in a tight fist of fisty, epic triumph! "Do you know what today is?!1!?!"
"You know." Monica looked down and began fiddling with her phone. "I read somewhere that using exclamation points outside of dialog is like jerking off during your own narrative."
"No, you heard that on Marley and Me, which was way too depressing for a movie about a dog!" Mark stood up on the couch, raising his fist of power even higher. "Today is an extraordinarily stupendous... day, for... er, today, I begin writing our weird adventures again!"
"Look, dude." Monica leaned over the couch arm dejectedly. "The last story you wrote about us literally culminated with your wife bleeding out in Okinawa after slipping on a samurai sword during a hurricane, you selling your soul to Cthulhu to save her-"
"Wgah'nagl fhtagn." Mark declared for the dark lord.
"-and me becoming your weird, traveling, murdering thrall."
"S-o-o-o, I don't know how we top that."
"Come on, we're still young!" Mark gestured at the living room's white, normal walls, and normal, brown hardwood floor. "There all kinds of adventures we can do... have... partake."
Monica flipped her phone to 'Animal' by Disturbed, and plugged one of the headphones into her ear. "Mark, there's just nothing interesting about some stupid, bald, white dude-"
"..." Mark's feelings weren't hurt; nope. Not at all.
"-and the weird fantasy creature he came up with in middle school," Monica gestured at the Minotaur standing in front of the TV, "screwing around watching TV or whatev-... er."
Mark and Monica both stared at the... Hold on, what was it again? Minotaur? Yeah, a Minotaur. They stared at the Minota-
"Female fur creature!" The Minotaur's voice rattled the walls, the TV screen cracked from the shockwave, and his loin cloth shifted a little.
"Aw, Christ!" Monica threw her phone against the Minotaur's massive chest muscles. "I can already see where this is going!" She slapped Mark upside his bald head.
"Hey, what, I-" Mark was speechless. "I don't know what's happening! I'm not doing this."
The Minotaur took a massive, hooved step towards Monica. "Female, I am enticed by your supple-" So she pulled out her Glock 23 and blew his head off.
"Woah, Jesus!" Mark jerked into a ball on the couch, knees tight, eyes wide.
"That's what I think of that!" Monica slammed her handgun on the coffee table, as the Minotaur's brains and blood began to ooze all over the nice hardwood floor. "No stories about us, and no weird shit." Monica pointed at Mark. "Got it!?"
"Yeah yea yea, no problem. The end."
"Oh no you don't!" Monica pointed harder, scarier. "Do it right!"
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