"Hey losers," you called, walking into the wedding the next day. No one there was even close to matching your level of majestical awesomeness. Jesus was wearing no shirt with a kilt and some suspenders covered in Junkook's face. You were sporting a fashionable pink kimono.

Kristen walked up to you to greet you, but when she noticed your empty hands, she was puzzled. "Did you bring anything? You know, you're usually supposed to bring a wedding gift or a card."

Jesus smiled. "Nope! All we brought was cultural appropriation!"

Kristen turned away quickly to do her anti-stress breathing exercises. When she turned back, a crazy smile was plastered on her face and her left eye was twitching.

"That's okay. Your table is over there."

You hooked Jesus's arm in yours and galloped over to your table. When you sat down, two people in sparkly rainbow tuxedos walked up to you. Sewn onto their chest pockets were small patches. One had a sock, and the other had a cupcake... or was that... a muffin? They were your old friends, Sockface and Muffinhead!

Sockface was a tall, smexby, human-like creature with a round face and light brown, chin length hair. Muffinhead had sharp, angular facial features and a jawline could probably cut you if you touched it. Their dark hair flowed gracefully onto their shoulders, perfectly enhancing the angles of their perfect face. Their shoulders were strong and their arms were muscular. Their lips were soft and the tip of their nose was softer. Under their eyes rested two dark circles, placed there by their inability to go to sleep on time. Their eyebrows were divine, like two magical caterpillars resting happily above their eye sockets. The skin that covered their body was soft, and one could never tell if they wanted to lovingly stroke it or harvest it and turn it into a coat. They were of perfectly average height- not short and definitely not tall.

"y=mx+b, losers," said Muffinhead, shimmying their eyebrows.

Sockface stepped in front of them. "I'm sorry about my little Muffin Dearest," they said. "What they meant to say was, 'greetings! It's nice to see you again after all these years.' It's just that recently, they ate a math textbook and now they have math vomit. It's like word vomit but with numbers."

"Anyway, we have to go," Muffinhead cut in. They dragged Sockface away and in a hushed voice they said, "Ew, don't talk to the straighties. They're gonna infect us with their stds and urinary tract infections."

You looked at Jesus and sighed in content. Life was going swell! Just as you placed your hand over his as a romantic gesture, a bell rang, signifying the official start of the ceremony.

Afterwards, you and Jesus walked around the waterfront venue to talk to the unique crowd of guests. You had conversations with everyone from voldemort to Bethany, Kristen's sister. You even tried flirting with Bethany, but she told you to stay away, as "God said no no to the homo."

By the time the clock struck midday, you and Jesus were awfully bored. You were thinking of heading home, when Jesus came up with a genius idea.

"Hey bro," he said in a classic dudebro accent. "What if I turn that pond water into wine? Then, we can drink out of it with those fat ass boba straws. It'll be totally rad."

Before you knew it, you were drinking wine out of a pond with a fat ass boba straw. After about six hundred ninety sips, you laid on the ground shivering. Your vision was going dark around the edges and you could barely hear the conversation going on right beside you.

"Child," said Sockface, grabbing at something in Muffinhead's hand. "Give me back my Furby!"

"I am not a child, I am your Rockymunchkin!"

"Well, I'm a month and four days older than you, so you're a child to me!"

"At least I'm not old!"

"At least I'm not short!"

Everything went silent. That was a low blow, both literally and figuratively, as Sockface had to bend down to Muffinhead's level to deliver the insult.

"I'm so sorry," Sockface pleaded. "I didn't mean, it; you aren't short, you're average- wait is (Y/n) dead?"

Muffinhead bent over your head and squinted at you. Concluding that you were still alive, they said, "y=mx+b, loser," and those were the last words you heard before you died.