Palmtop mofucore

A palmtop mofucore slept peacefully on a pillow, lazying around in a summer afternoon. The calm room let its almost silent snoring be heard, though soon enough a rumbling awakened it from its sleep.

It was its belly, as it found out with a pained look.

The choice presented itself. Did it remain in the blissful comfort of the pillow, or leave it in search for nourishment? On and on it thought about it, but another rumbling of its belly made the choice clear. The mofucore let out a sigh, getting up in sorrow and jumping off the bed to the cold, hard floor.

Its search led it to the kitchen. Only one thing remained in its mind, marching straight for the cabinet it knew its goal would be found. Past the cabinet's glass exterior, it saw in full clarity what left its tummy aching in anticipation: Skittles. Without delay it opened the cabinet door, but only then did the mofucore notice that the skittles were too high for it to reach.

Sorrow. Anguish. Defeat. A flurry of emotions took hold of it. Much as it wanted to head back to the pillow and cry itself to sleep, a minuscule part of its hard urged otherwise. 'Never give up'. It stared around on and on, helplessly attempting to find a way to reach it, but as soon as its eyes fell upon a broom, an idea came to its mind.

It ran at full speed, taking the broom and dragging it to the cabinet. A little hope, however desperate, is never without worth. No effort was spared, climbing the broom little by little towards what its belly ached for, making steady progress no matter the pace.

The broom moved. The mofucore remained petrified, eyes remaining wide open as the prospect of the broom falling with it clinging upon it crossed its mind, but the broom moved no longer; a mere slip by how reckless the climbing was. The climb continued, now slow and methodical, each movement calculated beforehand, but soon enough the broom slipped again.

All or nothing. Knowing it'd fall regardless, the mofucore sprung to action, climbing as quickly as it could with its life on the line. Its movements led the broom to shake violently and slide off, but just as the broom fell, the mofucore jumped. Just barely did it manage to catch onto the ledge it sought, hearing the broom hit the floor. As if it hanged off a cliff, the danger of falling turned into a good enough motivator to help it pull itself up, reaching solid footing and, most importantly, end right next to the bag of skittles it so desperately wanted.

Its mouth watered. With joy and hunger it approached the bag and tore it open, revealing inside the distinct "S" stamped on each colorful shape. Rather than to take them out, the mofucore lazily slid into the bag, lying on the ground eating each one as it reached them, tail wagging from one side to the other.

Though the mofucore had no way to get down, that was a problem for another time. For now, it was time to savor its victory.