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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
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And the world kept sinking and nobody noticed. Things got torn around their edges, bent, wrinkled, and it was just a little harder to see any light. And they weren't noticing, nobody was fucking noticing- why weren't they fucking noticing? Why let everything sink and sink and suddenly it's all gone and you never even realized it was leaving? Why aren't you doing something about it, why aren't you fucking noticing?

Yeah. You're too busy yelling at each other. Which...

... which, okay, glass houses. Flash back to just a moment ago, lookit what we had there. Girl, loud, angry (this would be Charlie), and boy, quiet, remorseful (this would be Aaron). She kept yelling and yelling till he sat down and cried. Hey, guys, did you hear that DuClare girl yelled at some nerdy kid till he broke down in tears? Ha ha ha, what a catty bitch. She's nothing if not consistent.

No, hey, break out the silver linings and pull yourself together. It was the right thing to do. Yes? Yes. It had been the good thing, the compassionate thing, the... fuck, what's a synonym for tough love tha doesn't make you sound like an asshole when you use it? Anything? No, nothing? Well, fuck it. It was necessary. Aaron had to realize... and then he realized... and then she hugged him and told him it was alright so that balanced out anything negative. That made it okay.

What the fuck are you gonna do to make it okay, you Hot-Topic-looking motherfucker? Hugs don't count, this is beyond the level of a hug and go fuck yourself, we don't want a hug from you anyway. Make everyone a home-cooked breakfast, then we'll talk. Find a wild boar. Turn it into bacon. Do what you have to do.

And even if he did make it up, why do it in the first place? Why pull any of that shit, going on about herp derp you guys are dumb and Milo was an asshole, which I say without even a hint of irony herp derp. It doesn't help. It doesn't shine any lights. It makes the world sink down, down, further down, and you're not even noticing. Asshole.

So you say,

“Got to be fucking kidding me...”

And you walk towards him. Pretty slowly, and hands held in the air so as to be as non-threatening as possible, but walking towards him all the same. And you say,

“I can't fucking deal with this anymore. Alright? I don't want to hear this shit anymore. I don't want to hear any more insults, or any screaming,” wait Charlie who is that part referring to, “or... I just... can't. Deal. With any of this.

“I don't care how many guns I have to stand in front of today,” two, please just keep it to two, don't go above two, “just stop. Okay? Just stop, or just fucking shoot me right now...

“Whichever's easier for you.”
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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No Such Thing as a Perfect Plan · The Felled Forest: North