Drew Fanart: Difference between revisions

“I guess nothing else really matters anymore”, Drew Fanart sighed. The children laughed and threw pineapples at his head, but it was no use. Little did they know that he drew Sailor Moon fan art, and this brought him sheer joy. His mother was still a brilliant shade of eggplantish purple, and her eyes had become rather bulgy and highly, highly veiny. Perhaps he should have asked her how she was doing. But no. Drew Fanart had more urgent plans.

 

 

Drew Fanart hung the picture on the clothesline at night. He shined his Camp Lazlo nightlight on it and drifted off to bed. Could this lovely little masterpiece of his be the moment he had always wanted? Perhaps it truly was—because, when Drew Fanart woke up, there was nothing going on downstairs. No commotion at all. It hadn’t even disturbed his mother, who had remained wide-eyed and purple and appeared to be tending to the household rats who lived in the musty old walls at this point. Drew Fanart had finally seized the day! Why, he could do the grocery shopping, pay the family bills using his friend’s stolen credit card, or even go hang-gliding in the air! But alas, it was not to be… for Drew Fanart was suddenly stricken with the most horrible of grief.