Requiem for a Gummi, inspired by The Gummi Bears, written by CelerSunni watched the room spin, idly playing with the empty needle still stuck in her arm, until her stomach emptied itself all over the ceiling. Or was that the floor? It was impossible to tell in her current state."Come out of there you little bitch!"Of COURSE it was Gruffi. It was always Gruffi. It was as if he could sense when she was hitting bottom, and liked to sweep in just to remind her that there is always somewhere lower she could go. She sighed and closed her eyes."Come out before I bash this door down!" She wouldn't have moved even if she had the energy. Besides, she never bothered to lock her door anymore, it's not like anyone cared about her. Not even that asshole Gusto.Eventually he realized he could just push the damn thing open instead of shouting. The scowling gummi stood there a moment, silhouetted in the doorway, casting an imposing figure with the sun at his back. It was wasted, as all she could see through her slitted eyelids was two blurry blobs. Occasionally four."I knew it. You were snooping around for my stash!" he shouted, looking around the room in disgust. "Look at yourself. You’ve dipped into your own supply, and look what it got you. That’s the first rule, bitch... and the last."Sunni turned her head to glare at him, and away from the increasingly vile stench emanating from her vomit-soaked pillow. I don't need any lectures from you, she thought, but could only vocalize a slight moan.Gruffi removed a small vial from his pocket and waved it in her face. "You want some of this? You need some go-juice?" he mocked, chuckling as she suddenly had the energy to sit up and make a wild grab. The purple liquid inside sloshed merrily, taunting her. She didn't want that juice. She NEEDED it. She needed it with every fiber of her being. The dregs she just shot into her veins were useless, only good for staining her yellow fur a telltale purple.The gummi smiled wickedly. "All you had to do was ask Gruffi for a little hit. Gruffi likes to help those in need." A glint crept into his eye. "But Gruffi has a price, a price you had better be willing to pay." As he spoke, he slipped out of his tunic, making his price throbbingly obvious. He leered at her from the edge of the bed.Sunni, already on all fours, turned away from Gruffi. "As long as I don't have to see your face," she whispered, but he was already on her. She exited her body for a bit, blocking out what was happening to her physical self and focusing on that sweet sweet rush that would surely be coming soon. Right after Gruffi did, in fact. It was as if her spirit was hovering above the scene, and it was almost comical from that angle. Gruffi's face all contorted, hands on her hips, thrusting away like a little monkey. She watched him slap her ass again and again, saw her yellow fur-covered cheeks turn bright red, but she couldn't feel anything.It wasn't until he grabbed the back of her head and thrust it into her soggy pillow that she snapped back into reality. She didn't know if it was the lukewarm feeling of liquid against her face, the acrid smell, or the rancid taste that set her off, but she vomited again. She watched it slowly drip down the headboard, fascinated. "You dirty bitch! You dirty little whore!" Gruffi spat, pushing her away in disgust. "At least we shot our loads at the same time. HAH!" He adjusted his green hat.Sunni turned around, dripping from her mouth and crotch, and grabbed the vial from her tormentor's pocket. Her eyes widened when she realized it was empty. "You aren’t worth shit," he laughed. "I needed that just to push me over the edge. I should have given it to you though, a little bouncey-bounce would do wonders with that nice full figure of yours." She raised her fist to slug him but he was already gone.What? Had she fainted? Blacked out? She couldn't remember. The only thing she could remember was the last time she scored, and where she would need to go if she wanted to survive the night."Sunni! Welcome!" Duke Igthorn flashed a Cheshire grin, as he closed the door behind her. "There be six of you cutting up an entire piece... and it be REAL good." Sunni swallowed nervously as he withdrew a vial from his cloak. "Showtime."
"My Dance of Healing will mend your wounds. It takes two days, though."
It is standard procedure for the White House to have a synthetic. But it sometimes malfunctions...
If you think Hitler was good, you've got another thing coming.
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