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gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp aaaaah buuuuuuurp

Donnie just downed his 4th can of Mr. Tipsy’s energy drink. Mr. Tipsy was regarded as the best and most effective energy drink on the market. It was also highly controversial due to its ingredients; equal parts of 100% pure caffeine and 100% pure Colombian cocaine.

It was finals week and Donnie had stayed behind in the school café to cram some more knowledge in before his last final tomorrow. He’d exhausted himself the night before, but he had to keep going so he opened and inhaled another can of Mr. Tipsy’s.

This last can of Mr. Tipsy’s didn’t sit well with him, so Donnie packed up his stuff and headed home. While walking, he thought someone was following him but was too afraid to turn around and look. He was hoping it was just his imagination when someone stepped out of an alleyway and got in Donnie’s path.

“Nice evening. Now hand over your wallet and you won’t get hurt,” the thug said, while two more of his lackeys approached Donnie from behind. Donnie stood there, scared, shaking, and unsure of what to do. He thought about running, but his stomach was hurting so bad now that surely, he would vomit.

“Are you deaf, kid? I said hand over the money and maybe I’ll let you live tonight.” The main thug pulled out a knife from his waistband and Donnie’s heart went into overdrive. He didn’t want to die. The adrenaline of ten crackheads suddenly surged through his body and he kicked the thug in the groin, feeling his testicles rupture on impact. He howled in agony and fell to his knees, crying.

Thug #2 punched Donnie in the head from behind, and, for some inexplicable reason, caused him to fart out a toxic dust cloud that encapsulates thug #2’s head and suffocates him. Thug #3, who was watching from the sidelines, yells, and charges at Donnie. Donnie begins to feel dizzy and without any warning, projectile vomits into the approaching thug’s face.

“AAAAAAAAAGH, it burns, it burns,” screams the thug as he begins clawing at his face, try to remove the toxic bile. He collapses to the floor, the skin on his face completely melted away, leaving bone and muscle exposed.

Donnie collapses to the ground. The sounds of rats tearing into flesh wake Donnie up. He slowly stands up and starts to hobble himself home. He tosses the last can of Mr. Typsy’s energy drink into a trash can.

“That’s the last time I drink that. Has too much sugar in it.”

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