William rolls “Worst Joint Ever”

Shot to death

Dave x Reader by DirectDoggo

“The year was nineteen-hundred and eighty seven. I found myself seated at a table in a sprawling and bustling restaurant, filled with dozens of patrons, chattering at each of the tables. Swell-dressed waiters careened from table to table, carrying platters and plates adorned with fish, meats and other delicacies. I glanced at my watch for the fifteenth time so far that evening. “Where the hell is he?” I muttered to myself, a little bit louder than intended, judging from the sympathetic look suited man dressed at the other table gave me. “Perhaps he’s in the same boat I am…” I thought to myself, “Maybe I should go over and talk to him… My date is 15 minutes late after all. That means I can legally leave.” I’m just not any good at speed-dating. Before I could stir to up and leave, a figure staggers and stumbles uncontrollably into view, almost knocking the table over in the process.

The man was dressed in a purple buttoned shirt that seemed to almost merge with his pruny, aubergine flesh. That, or he had simply stapled buttons to his torso. Looking back, I’m not completely sure that he didn’t. The man loomed above me, with gangly outstretched limbs, and shoved his massive, mitt-like hand into mine.

“Why, hello there, old sport!” the man frantically started, “Sorry about the hold up, I was wranglin’ toddla’s and eatin’ kebabs!” For a very intense moment, my fight or flight response triggered, and every fiber of my brain screamed at me to run. The man sat himself down at my table, clearly unabashed by his own lack of punctuality. “My name is Dave! David Miller!” the man told me, “And you might be?” I flinched, slightly apprehensive. “My name is [reader], Dave.” I replied, taken aback, “Surely you knew that. The dating agency would’ve sent you over some info about me.” “Info schminfo!�� Dave replied, dismissively waving his passive paws away from himself, “I find it’s more fun to come to a date knowing NOTHING about the psycho that you’re meetin’! I inched slightly away from Dave. "By the way…” Dave asked, glancing around suspiciously, “I’m not int’ any of that gay shit… I didn’t read that agency letter, and I can’t figure out your gender by lookin’ at you…” “Christ” you muttered audibly. Dave lifted his arms up defensively. “Oh, oh, no!” Dave cried defensively, “I have nothin’ against gay people! I love gay people! My ex boyfriend was one of those!” I cocked my head, only to soon realize that the entire restaurant was peering at Dave, at this stage. Dave grabbed me by the arm, and ushered me onto my own two feet.

“C'mon, [reader], this place is full of WEIRDOS.” he spat, defensively hissing at onlookers with each syllable. “I know a MUCH better place for us to have our dinna’ at!” he added, practically dragging me out the door. Once we were outside, Dave promptly took out a blindfold and tied it around my visage. The moment it was over, Dave screamed out: “ALRIGHT, HAND OVER YER WALLET, AND NOBODY GETS HURT”, causing me to jump back in an agitated manner. Dave chuckled to himself. “Sorry, [reader]…” he chortled to himself, “Force o’ habit.”

Dave and I walked for what felt like (and probably was, in hindsight) six whole seconds, before removing the blindfold. “Feast yer eyes, [reader]!” Dave announced, “Our new dating spot!” I took a look at the “fancy” eatery we had just “entered.” To be frank, it was clearly the alley outside the restaurant we were just in. Dave leapt into a nearby doorway.

“I know the chef in this great restaurant!” Dave cheered, “Lemme get us some good grub!” Dave’s body slid like liquid beyond the threshold of the door. At that moment, I realized that the building that Dave had just entered the same restaurant that apparently wasn’t good enough to house us before. Moments later, Dave ran out of the restaurant’s side-door, with a chorus of angry Italian shouting erupting behind him. He grappled onto my arm and dragged me hastily into another nearby alley. Dave proudly beamed at me. “Can you believe they’d just throw two perfectly good plates of spaghetti into the trash, and let anyone walk out with them?!” Dave asked me, clearly more than content with the meals that he had salvaged. “I dunno, Dave…” I responded, “That chef sounded pretty angry…”

I sat in silence, eating my dismal plate of cold spaghetti. The spaghetti had clearly been thrown out hours beforehand, because it wasn’t even warm. Within seconds of when I had started eating, Dave’s jaw unhinged like a reptile, and he swallowed the entire plate whole, spaghetti and all. I gagged. “Could’ve used some salt, eh, [reader]?” he asked, nudging me. I counted three nudges. Had he nudged me a fourth time, I would’ve puked for sure.

“Boy, that was…substantial!” I cry out, flinging my plate onto the ground, causing the plate to smash and the food to disperse onto the dirty, broken-glass encrusted ground of the alley. “[Reader], I couldn’t help but notice that you still had some food on your plate…” Dave added. Dave’s torso span, and he leapt onto all fours, with his head pointing towards me, like some sort of extra-terrestrial crustacean. “Would you like me to retrieve your leftovers for you?” Dave asked, with mad pleading in his eyes. “T-That’s okay…” I replied, wondering what my current rate of life expectancy was, while out with Dave, “I think I’ll just-” Before I could move an inch, Dave began rambling again.

“Yer a lot better than the last guy I went out with!” Dave cried out, “Fuck that guy, he left me high ‘n’ dry, he did!” I feigned sympathy and nodded slowly. “The slower you nod, the more you appear to care!” the terrified voice in my head bellowed at me, trying to get me out of this alive. “Yep. I’m 100% over that douche 'old sport’” Dave boldly stated, clearly having not remotely moved on. “Yep! I’m a completely stable individual!” he stated, before breaking down into frantic tears, upon seeing a passing dog. I gave Dave a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, trying to somehow pat the air around his arm hard enough for him to feel like I was touching him, but without any actual flesh contact. Suddenly, Dave perked up, and grabbed me by the shoulders, spinning me around heavy-handedly. “Y'know what we need?” he asked me, answering before I suggest a restraining order, “We need to visit my job! You can see how fun it is at work every day!” “Yes! Let us do that!” I replied, nodding frantically, with the pure intent to get someone to call the police on arrival.

Dave then picked me up as though I weighed nothing, and hightailed it down the street, holding me above his head. He ran at impossibly high speeds for about ninety seconds, before I found myself beyond the doorway of a cheap fast food restaurant. I looked to my left… A suited man with a rotary phone for a head was hurryingly disposing of a currently urinating shiba inu. On my right, an array of tables, all of which had three to four slices of frozen pizza and exactly one jug of what appeared to be purple syrup on each table.

“Isn’t this great?” Dave asked, stretching his branchy arms out towards the myriad of cheap smells and now dull coloured posters surrounding us. Then, what appeared to be a large, lavender coloured rabbit walked calmly over to me, and with supernatural strength, grabbed my arm, twisting it three times clockwise. I heard a loud snap. “GAH, MY FUCKING ARM!” I roared, looking over to Dave for an explanation, “WHAT IS THAT FUCKING THING?!” Dave chortled, playfully. “Oh, that’s just Bonnie, the robotic rabbit!” Dave laughed, pointing his sideways, outstretched thumb towards the large, robotic rabbit “He does that.” The rabbit made a deep, loud gurgling sound, and a thick froth seeped from his gaping jaw. Before I could leap for the door, Dave broke down into frantic tears, yet again. “HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME, OLD SPORT?!” Dave cried out, “OLD SPORT, WHYYYYYYYY!” This last despondent wail was cut short, by a figure suddenly stepping into view.

“Holy shit, Dave, what the fuck is wrong now?!”

The man stood at average height. An intense orange hue coated his smooth, pasty skin and from the quiet intensity of his soulless eyes, you could see that this was a man who didn’t take shit from anyone. “Sportsy!” Dave cried out, “I thought you had left me!” 'Old Sport’ slapped his hand against his face violently, clearly picturing his own face as Dave’s neck. “I was in the bathroom for FIVE MINUTES, you IGNORAMUS of an eggplant!” he bellowed back. Dave bawled his eyes out, staring at the orange man who’d just strolled out of the jacks. “So, uhhh-” I broached, waving my flattened hand through Dave’s line of sight, “Can I just leave now, or?” Dave peered at me confusedly. “Who the fuck are YOU?” he asked me. At this point, I was fucking done, more so than I’ve ever been before, or since. “I’m your date, David.” I replied, “We were on a date for the last four minutes.” Dave waved his hand dismissively at me, not breaking his line of sight towards the orange man. “You can go, I’m done with you.” he replied, still staring at the pissed-off looking orange man. At that point, I walked out.

While leaving, the same suited, rotary-phone headed man from before clasped at my ankles imploringly, clearly begging me to help him fend off the exactly sixteen German Shepherds attempting to drag him away. I stepped over the man, and continued on my way out.

That was my weirdest dating experience to date. What makes it weirder is that later that night, I got a call from the local police department. Apparently, minutes later, a suited employee working at that very restaurant had abducted and murdered five local children. Dave had listed me as his alibi. At that point, I just hung up the phone. What a strange man. “

people really watching “shows”… 🙄 society is spectacle enough

Some guys.............

Henry has a way with words, and he makes it the DSAF 3 party’s problem.

Transcript:

How crude of you to attack me with physical weapons. I find honesty far more effective.

Dee Kennedy: You forgave your murderer within three seconds of hearing his tragic backstory.

Steven Stevenson: You are a replaceable, forgettable corporate stooge. I confused you for Peter Kennedy at least twice.

Blackjack: Your greatest achievement consisted of sitting around doing absolutely nothing for thirty years.

Willy: You are a cringe-ass incorrigible man child.

And Jack Kennedy: You. Get. No. Bitches.

Intelli-muh-gent. Henry has to actually pause before concluding that the deliberate mispronunciation was on purpose. “I see.”

For the sake of maintaining the ‘connection’ to his Fredbear character, Henry is obliged to play along. One of the pitfalls of having an immortal accomplice is the need to indulge their childish behavior for far too long. “They do, do they? An impressive use of creative problem-solving.” With William’s inner child sated, he ought to leave Henry alone for the time being. Right?

( cont. @drpinkhenry )

𝙰𝚑𝚊!   𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢   𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝   𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚢   𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍   𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢   𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝.   It   was,   as   far   as   animal   trivia   goes,   very   fun   and   it   was   about   bears!   Henry   loved   bears,   of   course!   Why   else   would   𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛   be   one?

❝   Did   you   know   bears   are   very   intelli-muh-gent   animals   ?   ❞   There   is   a   light   smile;   William   hopes   the   silly   mispronunciation   will   add   to   the   '𝚏𝚞𝚗   𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛'.   ❝   Some   bears   have   been   observed   to   roll   rocks   into   traps   t'purposefully   set   'em   off,   so   they   can   safely   grab   the   bait   !   ❞

*deep breath*

“ Do you wanna hear a fun animal fact? “

It's been weeks since the last 'amusing' animal image or other cutesy joke in image form. Henry believed he was finally free from this recurring tomfoolery. More fool he.

"One animal fact. And I will determine how 'fun' I find it."

DSAF art request if you're still taking it: Henry Miller giving his signature smile.

✨ Happy William Wednesday! ✨

William, absolute baby that he is, is already giggling to himself before presenting this week's image. This one has to be a winner! He's been learning and taking notes from the past attempts!

The pun gets exactly one "Heh." out of Henry. William picked a specific theme this time (and one matching Henry's business) instead of just going for yet another 'amusing' animal, and the joke is presented without needless distractions.

"It took several attempts, but you've found an image that amuses both of us."

The weekly toll has been paid. Now Henry can get back to -oh. William’s still talking. Which means Henry has to respond in turn if William says anything that merits a response. No, now he’s just staring into space. Henry waits for the vacuous stare before him to regain its focus.

A vital-oh. It’s not entirely parroting what Henry said back at him. William managed to reach Henry’s inferred conclusion based on what was said aloud. “Yes. You’re right, William. While my own personal interest may not touch on all equally, sometimes what is necessary doesn’t align with what we enjoy.”

(   cont.   @drpinkhenry​   )

Hmm.   So   this   one   wasn’t   a   winner   either?   William   can’t   help   frowning   a   little,   clearly   disappointed   by   Henry’s   reaction.   It’s   been   what,   four   weeks?   And   not   even   a   smile.   His   searches   are   proving   to   be   quite   a   challenge,   too.

But   he   is   determined. He   will   make   Doctor   Henry   Miller   smile,   god   damn   it!

❝   Heh,   yeah.   I   guess   they   did   !   ❞   William   wouldn’t   know,   he   never   went   to   university.   Though,   William’s   mind   goes   through   a   process   and   comes   up   with   an   idea   for   next   week’s   image.   Boy   he   wished   Henry   would   let   him   share   more   than   one   per   week…   but   considering   his   reaction   last   time   William   tried… Right.   He   is   zoning   out   a   bit—   back   to   the   conversation.   ❝   Aren’t   all   sciences   a   vital   part   to   understandin’   the   world   though   ?   ❞

Hi Henry, it is William Image Wednesday again. This week, he tried for something new. Maybe this one will get him the love , praise, and attention he wants. “ Happy Wednesday, Henry ! I got another joke for ya ! ” William says with a smile.

That's odd. Whoever created this text neglected to mention-ah. That's the joke, isn't it? "Someone failed Physics." Honestly, it isn't that difficult. It's merely a matter of remembering what formula applies to what situation, and from there it's largely just math.

"It may not be the most interesting branch, but physics is nevertheless vital to a proper scientific understanding of the world."

feralreason·:

“ The Roomba ? ”

Well. It is kind of cute (actually cute since William decorated it!) and all but… he was hoping for something he could pet, and hold, and cuddle with. An actual pet. Still, he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. And maybe this is another one of Henry’s tests and lessons. Roomba first, doggo second! ” Okay. And what about you, Henry ? Y’ever had a pet ? ” Of course it wouldn’t hurt to maybe go about this in another way… if he could discuss it and sway Henry to get himself a pet, then William could ”steal” it. Genius.

Yes, the Roomba. The thing William probably won’t destroy by accident and then sob over as if he hadn’t caused the problem in the first place.

“No, I have not. The nature of my work -of our work, now- means that we may not have the time necessary to care for a living animal.”

That ought to cut off the next question before William can waste air asking it. They are not getting a live animal. Honestly, Henry isn’t sure he’d trust William with a cactus.

So someone else has a vendetta against legible text. Well, if it isn’t William’s fault this time, then there’s nothing to be gained from correcting William.

...He wants a what.

No. Absolutely not. Any pet entrusted to the care of a man who couldn’t boil water would die in under a week. And then Henry would be stuck with a grieving William. The only workaround would be some sort of pet that can’t die of neglect, and Henry doubts a pet rock would-

Wait.

The answer is already inside Henry’s house.

“You recall my experiment with the Roomba. If I cannot conclusively prove it has a soul, you may consider it your pet.”

(   cont.   @drpinkhenry​   )

William   frowns   a   little—.   He   was   sure   this   week’s   was   going   to   be   a   real   winner.   Instead,   all   it   did   was   remind   him   that   Henry   is   an   older   man.   A   playful   eyeroll   before   answering.   ❝   I   didn’t   crop   it   ,   Henry   !   It   just   came   like   that   when   I   found   it   !   ❞   Maybe   the   generational   gap   is   the   problem.   Maybe,   Henry   simply   doesn’t   understand   memes.   Still,   William   had   to   agree   with   his   observation;   they   had   been   too   focused   on   the   set   up   to   appreciate   the   skill   put   into   it.   ❝   You’re   right,   though   !   That   musta   been   one   well   trained   doggie   !   ❞

Well.   This   was   it.   Considering   that   Henry   had   seemed   to   be   in   a   good   mood   (from   William’s   observations,   at   least),   the   time   to   strike   was   now.   ❝   By   the   way…   I   was   wonderin’…   can   I   get   a   pet   ?   ❞

It’s that time of the week again! Oh boy! ” Happy Wednesday, Henry ! You know what that means ! ” He grins and presents the picture!

Time to make what. "William, who cropped this picture? You cut off the bottom text." What does that even say? 'W...woofles.' Because it's a dog. Of course. "It is admittedly impressive that the photographer could get their dog to stay still enough for a picture while it was that close to a food source."

flaggedred​:

And now things get even more awkward because she is forced to reply, “No. I’m not.” But hey! Maybe she can save this conversation. “What is it you do like?” The young woman feels anxiety dwell as she continues. Maybe adding this to her question will help… “And what you don’t?”

Well, that made two of them. Anyway, enough of this-oh wait she’s still talking. There is unfortunately no immediate excuse for Henry to exit this conversation, so his only option is to continue it. “I enjoy working on the animatronics. Seeing the audience react to my work in making them so life-like is rewarding.”

Regarding the latter question...Henry once again runs what he thinks through the filter of what he can reasonably say out loud. “Budgeting is always a chore. Restaurants tend to lose money in January and February.”

( cont. @drpinkhenry )

Oh right. That answer is… obvious. And now she feels a bit silly. “ You’re right… sorry to hear that. “ At least, she assumes Doctor Miller’s dreams lie elsewhere. “ Do you, at the least, enjoy it ? “

dave: oh good you're not busy. henry: *putting on clown make up* ummm? actually i am WILLIAM