are you drunk, high, or sober
today is,,,,mikeys birthday!! my lil bean boi is growing up awww
anyway though, so, obviously we did not go to high school together cause fuck distance so for this Special Occasion I decided to combine my freshman bio class, my senior English teacher, and a bunch of mikeys 1 am bullshit together to create what I think could be an accurate rendition of how we would have met if we had gone to high school together.
really it’s just a crack fic about evolution and hot cheetos.
ship: platonic (bro) ralbert
editing: I was about to say no but I actually did !!
warnings: Race is a raging bromosexual, hot cheetos, danny devito, conspiracy theories, fish are untrustworthy monsters, yaks, lactaid, bros bein bros, albert just wants his pencil back okay
Albert fidgeted in his seat slightly, highly uncomfortable in his priest clothes. Well, okay, they weren’t priest clothes, they were his graduation robes. Except he had bought them a size too big accidentally and they now looked like priest clothes. Race had made fun of him endlessly, even commenting that they should cosplay as priests sometime. Obviously, Albert had flat out refused, but that didn’t stop Race from sending him the occasional Psalm or slightly incorrect Bible passage.
But enough about Albert’s priest clothes. Let’s get back to the matter at hand: graduation.
It was a daunting day for both of them: a relief that they had finally made it and yet also sad because they wouldn’t get to pelt each other with spitballs during psych anymore. High school was where Albert had met Race, all because of a particularly cursed biology lesson during freshman year. It had never been established if Race had been entirely sober during that first exchange. Albert had always claimed that he was hungover at the least. Whatever the case though, Albert felt a smile stretch slowly across his face as the voice of the valedictorian faded into oblivion and he recalled the events of that day…
“-in fact there was a time when people thought that giraffes were just horses who decided they wanted to eat leaves.”
Albert tuned back into the biology lecture he had effectively been ignoring when the blonde kid next to him with the dead fish hair swatted the pencil he was sketching with out of his hand.
“Dude!” Albert whisper screamed. “Give me that back!”
The kid, who was an asshole for stealing his pencil, instead twirled Albert’s pencil thoughtfully. “Nah, you're missing the best part of the lecture! I’m doing you a service!”
Albert rolled his eyes. “Look, people were dumb. It’s not my fault that some idiot 500 years ago thought that a giraffe was a horse in disguise.”
Asshole glared at him sideways in a manner that Albert could only describe as disappointed.
Asshole sighed heavily. “Some people don't appreciate the cryptid animals of the world.”
Now it was Albert’s turn to stare disappointedly.
“Okay so like,” asshole’s eyes lit up and he threw Albert’s pencil with such force it landed two rows away from him before bending forward to stare into Albert’s soul, “you know about fish right?”
Albert’s disappointment was beginning to morph into annoyance. Plus he really just wanted his pencil back. “...yes?”
“Okay so essentially, fish aren’t real.”
“They’re government spies!”
“No they’re not! I bought them myself from petco!” Albert considered for a moment. “And besides, one of them is paralyzed.”
“He’s malfunctioning!” Asshole slapped the table so hard that the people in front of him looked back slightly to see what was going on. “It’s a glitch in the system!”
“What? No. He’s just...dying? I guess?” That was actually kind of sad now that Albert thought about it. Maybe he should just euthanize Rudolph…
“No, dude, I’m telling you. Fish aren’t real!”
“And I’m telling you that you're wrong!”
“Look,” asshole was starting to sound exasperated now. “Have you seen a fish since the government shut down?”
“Yes, I literally just said that I have three at home!” Albert leaned down to grab another pencil out of his bag so he could continue drawing. He was about done with this conversation.
Asshole sighed heavily. “You're a horrible person. A non-believer. When your robot fish report you to the government for hoarding all the lactaid for yourself in your basement then I will say I Told You So.”
“First, they’re not robots. Second, I’m not even lactose intolerant?”
“Well.” Asshole paused to pull a bag of hot cheetos out of his bag. “I am. And I fully intend to hoard all the lactaid myself when I take over the world with my seven yaks so you better have a good security system.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Albert paused looking for a pencil to stare at the asshole next to him.
“My master plan to take over the world with seven yaks,” asshole said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“And what does that have to do with fish?”
Asshole considered for a moment before pulling off one of his white converse high tops and pointing to his socks that were covered in- wait were those cryptids?
“You see my toes?” Asshole said, wiggling his foot around for emphasis. It was then that Albert began to question whether or not this kid was entirely sober.
“They can fuck them. Honestly. Fuck fish and fuck everything they stand for fuck them.”
“Okay.” Albert gave up searching for a pencil, deciding that talking to a potentially high person was more entertaining than doodling shitty flowers in the margins of his notes. “Do you have any other opinions about animals that I should know about?”
Asshole considered for a moment while crunching loudly on his hot cheetos, effectively getting orange spicy dust all over the table and Albert’s notes.
“So, whales,” he said finally.
“What about them?” Albert almost regretted asking.
“They sLap. But also, they’re BIG,” He turned to face Albert, his eyes wide, “and they don't need to be.”
“I mean, they do eat a lot of fish, they have to store it somewhere.”
“They could just, like, shit it out.”
“That would be a lot of shit.” Albert tore a piece of paper out of his notebook and began to fold it into a paper airplane. “Also I’m pretty sure that they already shit, so that doesn’t solve the problem.”
“But they could shit like, POOF!” He threw a small handful of cheetos in the air for emphasis.
Albert stared in confusion at the pile of orange crap now littering the lab table. “You want…..whales…….to have explosive diarrhea…..so that they can be smaller?”
“Yes,” asshole said confidently, beginning to eat the cheetos off of the table.
Asshole threw a cheeto into his mouth casually. “You know if you made out with a whale technically it would be brushing your teeth.”
Albert turned his head slowly to face the asshole seated next to him. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Doesn’t mean I wanted to,” Albert muttered under his breath.
“Oh no.” Albert put his head in his hands.
“Hey! You asked for my animal opinions!”
“That was before I knew they included making out with whales who have explosive diarrhea!”
Asshole threw a hot cheeto at him.
“Fine, fine,” Albert sighed, brushing hot cheeto dust off of his shirt, “let’s hear it.”
“Well, no offense to anyone who actually likes them but kiwi birds are weird and why did they need a fruit named after them and why are they fuzzy and who gave fruits the right to be fuzzy like what the fuck- WAIT-” he flung out his arm so that is wacked Albert in the chest and stared into oblivion as if he had just seen the ghost of shrek, “WHICH CAME FIRST THE BIRD OR THE FRUIT?”
“I don't know?” Albert said unhelpfully.
“God they’re as cryptic as whales,” asshole groaned, all but slamming his head into the table.
Albert chose to ignore the mess of a person next to him and pretend like he was still taking notes, as the teacher had grown suspicious of what was happening in the back of the room and was beginning to eye them. But, Albert still didn't have a pencil so it didn't really work.
“What does a kiwi bird look like anyway?” He asked once the teacher’s eyes were off them.
“Your worst nightmare.” Asshole turned his face on the table so that he was looking at Albert.
Albert decided that if he was going to pass this class he better take out a pencil and at least pretend to take some notes. However, after digging a pencil from the very depths of his bag, he discovered that the asshole was still intently staring at him.
“Aren’t you going to take notes?”
“Notes and my brain don't mix well,” asshole said, eating another hot cheeto. Albert wasn't quite sure how there were that many in the bag considering he had thrown at least half of them on the desk. Maybe he was a wizard. “Ask me more questions about animals.”
“Can’t you tell me your name first?”
“You've sat next to me for two months and you don't know my name?” Asshole clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Tisk tisk Albie.”
“Oh no, you are not allowed to call me that,” Albert groaned. He hated that nickname more than anything. Well, he potentially hated kale more, but only cause it tasted like unwanted veiny leaves.
“I’ll call you whatever I want until your sorry ass learns my name, Albie.” Asshole smirked. “Now, ask me about animals.”
“Alright, uhhh…” Albert’s eyes wandered across the doodle-filled pages of his notebook until they landed on a drawing of a shittly looking smiley face sheep. “Opinions on sheep?”
“I want a sheep,” Asshole whispered wistfully. “They seem fluffy. And precious. Like clouds.”
“Good to know.” Albert doodled a sheep jumping on a cloud. “What about, uh, crickets?”
“Hmmmm. They’re kinda scary.”
“Yeah. One time one got stuck in my brother’s dorm room and he was so scared he sent me a snapchat video of him screaming.” He paused to monch another cheeto. “Yeah. Crickets are scary but rubbing your legs together under a blanket as such is nice so crickets make some points I guess.”
“Rubbing your legs together under a blanket?” Albert asked incredulously.
“Yeah like, when it’s 4am and you can't sleep? Have you never done that before?”
“Oh.” Asshole looked disappointed for a minute. “Well, you're missing out bro.”
“Oh so now I’m your bro?”
“Of course, bro. You’re my bro, bro.”
Albert scribbled down a line about Darwin from the board. “Stop saying the word bro.”
“No bro. I gotta let everyone know we’re bros, bro.”
“No bro.” Albrt sighed loudly. “Fuck, now you got me doing it!”
“Isn’t it great bro?” Asshole used his finger to draw a heart in the cheeto dust that was still sitting on his desk. “Bro, look that's us!”
Albert glanced briefly at the cheeto dust. “Isn’t that kinda gay?” he asked, returning to his notes.
“It’s not gay if you have socks on,” Asshole said quickly. “And I definitely have socks on, so we’re good bro.”
Albert stared long and hard at his seatmate.
“Got somethin’ to say, bro?” Asshole smirked.
“Are you high?” Albert finally asked.
“Nah bro. My body is a temple. I only do-” he paused to wink “-brocaine.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Albert said definatively. “Never talk to me again.”
Asshole shrugged and went back to eating his hot cheetos. Albert went back to taking notes, pausing every few minutes to flick cheeto dust off of his paper.
Eventually, the teacher said something about cheetahs and the asshole next to him sighed deeply.
“I wish I could be a cheetah,” he said wistfully. Then he looked down at his bag of cheetos. “Or a cheeto.” Carefully, he pulled one out and inspected it. “Danny DeCheeto.” he decided, popping the cheeto into his mouth and crunching loudly.
Albert burst out laughing. He just couldn’t help himself. There was something about the way that he has said it so bluntly that made him have to laugh at the terrible pun.
“DASILVA!” The teacher, Jeff, who Albert lovingly referred to using his first name because he was a crappy teacher and didn’t deserve formalities, yelled.
“Oh now you’ve don’t it,” asshole whispered excitedly.
Albert elbowed him in the ribs.
“Stop interrupting my lesson with your absolute idiocy! I’d give you detention if I didn’t run it!” Jeff yelled halfheartedly. Albert didn’t particularly care.
“It wasn’t my fault!” he called back. “This kid’s been talking all through your lesson and it’s really distracting!” He pointed at the asshole next to him. “I was really enjoying your lesson on cheetahs!” he added just to be a kiss up. Albert always made it a point to kiss up to teachers who hated him because it just made them hate him more.
“HIGGINS!” Jeff yelled again, this time at his seatmate.
“I’m not on a sports team so that’s not my naaaameee!” he singsoned back, also just to annoy Jeff.
“RACE!” Jeff yelled instead.
“Stop distracting my students who actually want to learn!” Jeff gestures wildly with his hands. “It’s rude! There are some people in here who want to actually hear about cheetahs, not about whatever you’re doing back there with cheeto dust!”
“Terribly sorry!” Asshole, or, Race, called back in a way that was clearly not sorry at all before Jeff returned to his lesson.
“So,” Albert whispered, “Race, huh? I thought I wasn’t allowed to know your name.”
“Oh be quiet Albie.” Race scowled, licking cheeto dust off of his fingers.
“Hey! I told you not to call me that!”
Race pointed a cheeto dust covered finger at him menacingly. “One more word out of you and I’ll have my yaks come lick your eyeballs.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Albert gasped in fake horror.
“I would,” Race said just as the bell rang.
Albert watched as he swiftly brushed all of his cheeto dust into the floor, scooped up his bag, and gave him a mock salute. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“If you bring cheetos I’ll have to steal your socks!” Albert called after him.
As he scrambled to put his stuff away, Albert couldn’t help but think that this was the start of a really good, yet definitely weird, friendship.
Albert was pulled out of his memory by the crowd clapping wildly for the valedictorian. Soon after the student council President was announcing that it was time to move their tassels and then everyone was filing out of the rows back out to behind the field.
From somewhere in the crowd, Race materialized, attacking him in a giant hung.
“WE DID IT BRO!” Race yelled, jumping up and down.
“YEAH BRO!” Albert yelled back.
After a few minutes of celebrating, Albert reached into his pants pocket for the bag of hot cheetos he had stashed there, handing them to Race, who immediately started laughing.
“Do you remember the first time we met in Jeff’s class?” Albert asked. “You were being an asshole and got cheeto dust all over my notes.”
“I remember,” Race smirked. “I was literally talking out of my ass to try and get you to laugh.”
“Oh yeah, he got so mad at you.” He picked up the bag of cheetos, smirking. “You know, the funny thing is, I don’t even like hot cheetos. They’re too spicy and they make my mouth burn.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Albert chortled.
“But, since they’re a gift from you bro, I’ll cherish them forever.” Race made awkward kissy faces at Albert who shook his head in response.
“That’s gay bro,” he said mock seriously.
“It’s alright,” Race reassures him, winking. “I have socks on.”
see I told you it was cursed
hbd b r o (o no I don’t have soccs on :o)
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