Frozen Fool

[Gamzee Makara]

I was a little preoccupied with the majestic beatitude of this muscley muscle dude's vudushula or whatever the motherfuck it was called. It was such a harmonial, righteous sound, I couldn't help but be captivated. The honks this thing gave off were even mightier than mine own bicycle horns, which was some kinda accomplishment, if'n I do say so myself. And I'll be damned if this wasn't the dudeliest guy I have ever laid eyes on. This man was gleeful and loud and rasporous, whatever the fuck that word means. Seemed like a chill guy, despite the decibel's the dude was giving off.

And then, Straz had to go and blow up his beloved vutuscula like, why the fuck would you do such a thing? "I dunno Straz," I sigh with a bummed look on my face. "You really shouldn't have rustled his muscles."

"gAMZEE I SWEAR TO FUCKING-"

I giggle uncontrollably at mah bro, a bro that was currently getting his muscles tussled. Renzo, for his credit, was wearing a sour expression, his face turning cherry red despite the chilly as fuck weather. Despite that, he didn't seem... yaknow. Pissed off or mean or anything. Just super sad and like he lost his luster and bluster without his pristine honk machine. Which gives me an idea!

I get to work quickly, focusing all mah sick omniverse magicks into pulling something down right bee-yootiful into existences. It was kinda hard at first, what with Strawso shoutin' at me from behind the steel bars of Renzo's muskles. It took like five minutes tops, but by the time I was done, I had created a full length vuhuthela, almost identical to Renzo's old one! I even added a cute lil totem carving of me, straz, and Renzo on the end of it, holding hands and wearing nothing but sweet smiles. I mean, I ain't no artist. They just stick figures with lil music notes and such dancing around them, but hopefully it'll be enough to mutify any hostilities!

"Ey! Renzbro!" I shout, holding the beautiful wooden instrument of honkitude high in the air for him to see.

"Eh?" He releases Strazio from buff boi prison, who flip flops face first into the powdery snowstuffs. The honk maester walks up to me and I kneel, presenting the sacred instrument in a reverent manner. His look softens to one of awe, respect, and gratitude. He carefully takes his restored heirloom, tears forming in his eyes.

"You...made this for Renzo?" he sniffles. Straz pushes himself up from the snow, murder in his eyes, but I shoot that shit down quick. This ain't no time for violence.

"Yeah, my dude. Consider it a peace pipe." Heheh. Puns. Double Entendres. Whatever they're called. The buff bro raises the instrument to his lips. Straz sees this motion just in time to dive for cover, clamping his hands to his ears and shoving his face back into the snow like a mufucking Ostrich Bird Beast. The honk that comes out of my new bro's uvevuda is a beautiful, mirthful sound. Renzo's laugh is a deep, hearty, and baritone, his joy spreadin' across this frozen land like a curtain of warm vibrations.