one of my cats is a mischievous brat and the other is a big dumb lazy orange sherbet boy, and you would think that in a situation where they need to hunt mice, the clever and active one would be better at it, and yet my house has been full of meese, and it has exclusively been the great jambino that has been capturing them. you'd think, oh maybe he's hungrier than she is, but mr butterball doesn't actually kill them, i don't think he knows you can do that, but he does carry them around in his mouth with tail erect like a proud little man. circe is so useless i can't even believe her. she coulda been a contender. she coulda been somebody. and yet she is useless, simply useless
They’re childhood best friends. They’re two boys who were each others first connection to the world outside of their families. They’re college buddies. They’re kids who shared kisses in a dark dorm room while high on molly. They talked of a future they knew could never become reality. They clung to their friendship, they watched it fall apart. They aren’t close, they never stopped loving each other.
Stewy kisses boys on molly and one of those boys was Kendall.
Stewy’s team Kendall. He never stopped fighting against the monster in the Roy’s house, desperately hoping to get his friend free from the poisoned claws of the man Kendall called a father.
“Take the money and get out, Ken,” he begged again and again, and every time he watched Kendall slip further and further away from him. Until it was too late, until there was nothing left of the boy he used to kiss under the covers and the haze of drugs. Until Kendall became the monster with the claws and the cycle was complete.