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“Yo dawg, you got any comfort brah?” Person 1 asked casually on the doorstep of his bestie’s house.

“Dude, what the fuck? It’s 2am why the fuck do you need comfort?” Person 2 deadpanned in his usual monotone. He hadn’t been asleep, but he was still annoyed by Person 1’s habit of spontaneously showing up at his house for stupid shit at ridiculous times.

“Because...” Person 1 pouted a little, much to Person 2’s chagrin, “I LIKE TRAINS-“

“ASDF died out years ago!”

Person 1 burst into tears, then recovered in 2.0569 seconds to grin widely at his bestie. Person 2 just scoffed and began to slam the door in his face.

“No no no, wait! Please! Dawg... You’re my only hope brah. My dealer’s somewhere in France with you, and You is somewhere in France with my dealer, so all I’ve got is you dawg! Please just give me a little drop! My blankets are super hard and I need some o’ dat comfortable magic to make ‘em soft again yo!”

Person 2 rolled his eyes, but finally nodded. “Fine...” he grumbled in a monotone before retreating into his lair for his last bottle of Comfort Fabric Softener. He also grabbed a multipack of Comfort toilet roll he’d bought nine years ago for the sole purpose of eventually TPing Person 1’s house- when the time was right, of course.

When he returned, Person 1 was singing weird remixes of dead memes while wearing 8-bit meme glasses, smoking weed every day and doing the Numa Numa meme dance and the Gangnam Style dance simulataneously. Person 2 shoved the comfort products into his joint irritably, and Person 1 quickly removed the joint to kiss Person 2 on his soft, slightly chapped lips.

“Woah dude, you been murdering peeps again brah?” Person 1 asked with surprise. He was still fairly triggered that Person 2 refused to murder his torture victims with a 360 noscope to the head.

“Obviously doge. Now gee tea eff outta ma pad, dawg.”

“Cyanide, brah!” Person 1 left.

Fin.