Connor Grail | Sparkle and Fizz @ConnorGrail | Uploaded April 2022 | Updated October 2024, 14 hours ago.
Crack. Fizz. Pour. Bubble. Sip. Mmm. Ahh.
(Chiptune/Chipstep)
For the visuals, featuring a Zoya drawing by the bro Lobsteritus!
newgrounds.com/art/view/lobsteritus/2022-commission-no-35
twitter.com/Lobsteritus_Art
I was 22. Bag strapped to my shoulders, I headed to Europe. I left behind my dead-end job, sweetheart, even the gang. Up to the highest peaks, one by one, conquering cities, plains, oceans.
Finally, at the summit of a mountain on my 100th day, I met him.
Solomon, the map maker. Sitting atop his great peak, scrawling routes and elevations at a level unimaginable to the layperson.
We got to chatting. I soon realized he was a fool. All of his maps were horribly incoherent, and he was possible for upwards of 10,000 hiking/boating/driving related deaths this year alone.
I was ready to go, I had much more fantastic slopes to hit.
I was about to make my exit, as he offered, nay, pleaded, for me to join him for a drink.
I, not one to be rude, politely - yet unwillingly - said, "aye."
He poured me a glass of the stuff.
Twas unlike anything I done ever done saw afore. Mouth agape, I asked, "Just what is this syrup of the gods?"
The sensation upon mine tongue was new, intensly stimulating, and dare I say, erotic.
Solomon looked at me, crooked toothed smile wide, spilling pink beverage all over his sham maps, and said:
"Crush™ Brand Cream Soda, available at your local supermarket"
Crack. Fizz. Pour. Bubble. Sip. Mmm. Ahh.
(Chiptune/Chipstep)
For the visuals, featuring a Zoya drawing by the bro Lobsteritus!
newgrounds.com/art/view/lobsteritus/2022-commission-no-35
twitter.com/Lobsteritus_Art
I was 22. Bag strapped to my shoulders, I headed to Europe. I left behind my dead-end job, sweetheart, even the gang. Up to the highest peaks, one by one, conquering cities, plains, oceans.
Finally, at the summit of a mountain on my 100th day, I met him.
Solomon, the map maker. Sitting atop his great peak, scrawling routes and elevations at a level unimaginable to the layperson.
We got to chatting. I soon realized he was a fool. All of his maps were horribly incoherent, and he was possible for upwards of 10,000 hiking/boating/driving related deaths this year alone.
I was ready to go, I had much more fantastic slopes to hit.
I was about to make my exit, as he offered, nay, pleaded, for me to join him for a drink.
I, not one to be rude, politely - yet unwillingly - said, "aye."
He poured me a glass of the stuff.
Twas unlike anything I done ever done saw afore. Mouth agape, I asked, "Just what is this syrup of the gods?"
The sensation upon mine tongue was new, intensly stimulating, and dare I say, erotic.
Solomon looked at me, crooked toothed smile wide, spilling pink beverage all over his sham maps, and said:
"Crush™ Brand Cream Soda, available at your local supermarket"
