'Twas the afternoon before the 23rd , when all through the town

 

Not a person was stirring, not even a clown

 

The fettuccine alfredo was cooked with great care

 

In hopes that Ghost would soon be there.

 

Soul lay on the floor with his back against a building, his alfredo pasta from Pizza Hut getting cold. His cough was terrible, and his throat felt like it

was slashed. Maybe it was, for all he knew. What he did know however, was that crap was about to get hilarious, and he would absolutely love

it.

As the ancient myths foretold, and what had been written in the olden testaments, various demons can be summoned in different ways. For this particular dark spirit of darkly darkness, the only way to summon her was by preparing the best dish in the world: fettuccine alfredo.

 

While some summons require the summonee to be something like, say, a virgin, a female, or just plain crazy, to summon Ghost the ghost you need only be one thing: sick.

 

The great, perpetually-hungry beast smelled that sauce that flowed through her ghostly veins. From her gravy grave she flew, and followed the scent with her fettuccine-vision...because following a scent with her eyes totally makes sense.

 

The scent brought her to a room with her sought-after treasure!

 

"AHA!" she exclaimed. "MY PRECIOUS!" All was well UNTIL she noticed a pair of hands gripping onto her beloved dish! She hissed. Her once cheerful demeanor suddenly went as sour as a year old fettuccine sauce! It was ghostly law that stated, whover snoozes, loses. In this case it was I who snoozed and losed. The only way to obtain that fettuccine now...was to TRICK him...

"You can't have any."

 

The teen laughed bluntly, before falling into a coughing fit. Taking his hourly sip of bromfed dm, he gazed at the demon with his eyes. Because his eyes can gaze. A fettuccine demon, summoned by the catalyst of fettuccine! Surely a miracle worthy of the Holy Grail itself. Barely managing to stand, a devilish look formed on his face. "This world is rotten, and those who are making it rot deserve to die. Someone has to do it, so why not me?" Cough. "Even if it means sacrificing my pasta and soul, it's worth it." Cough. "But I can do it. In fact, I'm the only one who can. I'll do it. Using this contract, I'll change the world." Cough. Extending the prized catalyst to the demon, he smiled. "Do you accept this contract, Ghost?"

((omg im crying the dn/cg references are amazing))

 

"Hmph!" Ghost the Ghost scoffed. "It's more traditional for the DEMON to propose the contract, don't you think?" she spat alfredo sauce. Ewewewewew. Though reluctant to submit, there was no other way for her to take the pasta without breaking Ghostly Ghost code! "Fine..." the alfredo monster said finally, extending her hand. "BUT! We must spit shake," so Ghost the Ghost with the Most spat alfredo sauce into her hand, before taking his and shaking it. "Together....we will purge this world of evil, the almighty, the unholy...MEXICAN FOOD!"

 

Thunder clapped and lightning rippled through the sky. Truly this was the dawn of a major clusterfiretruck.

 

"Where shall we start? Chipotle, Chilles...."

Soul licked his hand, savoring the alfredo sauce. "Mmm, a vast, swirling wonderland of sparkling white pleasure. Let it fill your senses with cascading, fluffy pillows of excitement." A white symbol then formed on his palm in a weird shape that would probably get him perverted looks from strangers as he opened his closet. Sliding on his Marc Anthony tuxedo and Darth Vader mask, he turned to the demon. "Chipotle, it is. We shall start our justice there. Let us be off!" He then proceeded to try to make an S symbol with his hands, and failed miserably.

"That's not fair, I want a cool costume too!...You shall call me- " in a flash, she used her Awesome chicken and broccoli fettuccine alfredo powers to form a grotesque face. "-CHEWbaca." Then, The Ghost the Ghost with the Most Toast shook her head at his failure, and instead made an "S" symbol with her thick, juicy, alfredo noodle....arm. "COME ON!" with two of her dripping fettuccine alfredo noodles, she grabbed the young man by his sides and threw him unto her back. "ONWARD MY WAYWARD SON..WARD." She flew off into the sky, looking for their enemy to start with.

 

After a few moments, Ghost the Ghost with the most Toast Boast plopped onto the ground. "I...I can't go on. My arteries..they're clogged. You must carry me to the Chipoodle," she heaved. Truly, what little was left of her good health was screaming out in pain right now. It shoudln't be too far. I can already hear people crying from being unable to handle that wretched, spicy food!

"Noooooooooooooooo!" he screamed in his best Vader impression, calculating the many things wrong about this proposition. "I knew we should've used the invisible Ghost mobile!" Coughing in ways that oddly matched Vader's breathing, he resigned himself to lifting his partner bridal-style. "If I see an onslaught of Chewbader pics on the 4chan tomorrow, I know who to blame."

 

Managing to somehow reach the doors of the infernal building, he kicked it open, tossing his Chewbacca on a stool. "Behold, mongrels! This is Sero!" Punching a hole through one of his glass eyes, he proclaimed in his most grandiose voice, "I, Sero vi Alfredia, command you..... to ask for a refund!"