The maddest most hektik sick story bro

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The maddest most hektik sick story bro
Cover.png
The sick cover for the sick story
Story information
Genre being mad
Form a mad form
Protagonist Harold Hound
Deuteragonist Darold Dound
Tritagonist Habib Halal
Antagonist The Teacher


Harold Hound's mugshot, the legacy of the hound is now renowned
Darold Dound's mugshot, look how huge he is man
Harold and Darold listening to the boom box, watching penguins dance

The maddest most hektik sick story bro is a story about two mad rad and bad gangsters that went from rags to riches, borrowed a golden gatling gun that shoots out tightly rolled million dollar notes, made a car made out of Doom Weed and caught it on fire, got locked up and started a prison riot, stopped an insane madman, sued the song It's Hip to be Square AND wrote a song about doing it, all in just a week. How did these two do all of these things in a week? Well read on and you will find out.

Chapter I: Getting Mad!

Harold Hound woke up to a beautiful winter day, flakes of frost covered the plants and dew drops sat frozen like a perfect picture. Today was going to be a good day in the ghetto. The ghetto you ask? It's in the outskirts of South Pole City, and it's not as bad as everyone thinks it is! In fact, a lot of the people around there treat each other like brothers and sisters. Harold Hound's chestnut brown skin rustled as he woke up from underneath his cardboard box, his scarf and toque still keeping him warm. Every day is a day of opportunity, that's Harold Hound's philosophy. Darold Dound on the other hand, was the opposite. Every day felt like work, but he didn't get his muscle toned arms he nicknames his "guns" for nothing. He woke up too, put on his shades and wrapped his bandana around his mouth. Nobody needs to see in the eyes of Darold Dound, nor hear the words that come out of his mouth. All they need to see are his guns. The two walked over to the street, where they were greeted by none other than Habib Halal, the local hoon whose always trying to weasel his way into making money or doing some shady business in order to get some money. He wears a blue bandana over his head and a black hoodie. The bandana symbolizes his gang, the Assassins. He's the leader; and the kid's only eighteen! The local cop Radar though, knows Habib well. Maybe a little too well. Habib began talking to Harold and Darold about his latest scheme;

"I swear man this is like the best thing uleh, what I'm gonna do is gonna ditch my passport, fly over here as like one of those, whatchacallit? Illegal Ingrates and I'm gonna make me some bank!"
"Habib, that's illegal immigrants"
Darold gave a slight nod in agreement.
"Oh youse know nothin! This is gonna get me out of the Doom Weed business! Maybe I'll send ya a Mcdonalds burger when I get rich!"
Unfortunately for Habib, Radar was in hearing distance. He was a pretty stocky guy, but the funny thing is a lot of people in the ghetto have respect for him.
"Going on a little vacay, are we Habib?"
Habib froze in shock for a slight moment, but it didn't take long for his usual tongue to come back.
"Stop following me man, get out of my shadow wagga!"
"Righto Habib, you know the drill"
Radar flicked out his pepper spray and maced Habib, all the while Habib screaming police brutality
"I swear the Assassins are gonna get you Radar!"
"Yeah, righto sport. See you boys in a week." Radar said, dragging Habib into the paddy wagon for questioning.
"Habib's a character isn't he Darold? The Assassins are getting f-"

Suddenly, a puff of white smoke appeared as one of the members of the renowned Kammler Krew, a group known for technological breakthroughs entered out of the fog. This member was a woman, maybe late thirties. Wearing a suit and formal attire, she looked as if she meant business.

"Sir, under section 28 of the Fiction Act we are required to inform you to cease and desist the word that is about to come out of your mouth. Failure to comply may result in your termination. Thank you for your co-operation."
"What? No! I was going to say fed up!" Harold said in protest, but his words were hanging on deaf ears as the woman in the suit disappeared out of the smoke.

Not surprising to Harold and Darold, who were seasoned veterans; this was the type of treatment you get in the ghetto. Law enforcement is always on you about something insignificant. Heck, Darold did time in jail but it was over the most silliest thing; he was helping an old lady across the road, but the idiot cops at the time thought that he was mugging the poor lady due to how big and intimidating he is. Nowadays Darold only goes by one principle; see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Harold however, is too smart for his own good and gets a bit cheeky when he's told what he can and can't do;

"Pfft, that lady can go Fraiser herself! And by that, I mean she should watch Fraiser! Fraiser's a good show, right Darold?"

Darold just shook his head. Here we go again, when Harold starts on one of his tangents it takes his ages for him to calm down. The two walked by the nearby TV shop, where a crowd of penguins were watching the news. TV's hard to come by in the ghetto, so everyone just watches it outside the nearby shop. The news reporter was going on about the latest statewide funding for the newest dental plan, which sparked up one of the zimmer frame wielding old penguins;

"Yeah sonny, need me dentures! Bout time the gov'mnt gave somethin' back to us old ducks!"

Sonya was one of the old girls watching the TV, she's like Mum to the ghetto. Her wrinkly face gave a warm sense of belonging to the ghetto, and her hair still remained the same blonde it used to be, although there were some grey streaks.

"Oh mate I popped a tooth out, claimed worker's comp and made a smooth killing with the dental plan. Those government hoons ain't gettin' my pension check!" she replied back to the old penguin, who snickered at the remark. Sonya then noticed Harold and Darold in the background;
"Now Darrel, you keep an eye out on Harold! Make sure that little tyke doesn't get up to mischief; he's got that look on his face!"

Darold nodded, ignoring the fact that he was once again called Darrel instead of Darold. People tend to mix up his name because when you pronounce Darold Dound, it sounds like Darrel Dound. Harold is the only one that calls him Darold, and even though they were barely related Harold and Darold shared a brotherly relationship. Harold, being only sixteen and one of the youngest in the ghetto made him a bit impressionable to things but Darold was always there to try steer him in the right direction.

"Oh shaznazzle Sonya, I'm not doing anything! Today's a day where people are just picking on me!" Harold protested, although there was a little smirk behind the facade. Today felt like it was going to be a good day of opportunity, the ghetto was bustling with activity. Penguins were seen dancing near a boom box, there was the odd one or two Doom Weed dealings and all the old ducks were sitting by the TV shop. Some of the younger penguins sprayed graffiti on the nearby walls, whereas some of them played on the road, not in danger of any cars. Most of the people outside the ghetto knew better than to drive in there, as it wouldn't take long for someone to steal the car, go for a joy ride then end up having to face Radar.

"Mmmmmnyerfnsnerf Darold, we need to do some mad hektik sick things to survive in this harsh economy. We need a car! And some chicks!" Harold said in amusement, Darold however just shaking his head. Young Harold is always the one for adventure, although he might be a bit too adventurous at times. Suddenly, the nearby boom box started playing the song It's Hip To Be Square, which happens to be Harold's least favorite song.

"It isn't hip to be square! Squares get nowhere! It's hip to be mad! Cause we're mad bad and rad! That's what we should do Darold! Sue it's hip to be square for false advertising, then we'll write a song called It's hip to be mad and make a huuuuuuuuge killing off the paychecks!"

"Go away Harold ya jive turkey, you're killing our good vibes!" one of the penguins said. Harold gave them the bird, which was a paper crane he folded out of a leaf and walked off. He didn't care what they had to say, they'd think different once Harold got some money out of his latest scheme. Darold thought about telling him otherwise, but decided not to. It was the only way Harold was going to learn. Besides, it'd be good to get out of the ghetto for a bit. Harold however, was busy thinking to himself.

How was he going to get a car in a place like this?

Chapter II: Mad My Ride!

So the ghetto is a pretty chaotic place, but it's home. It's where Harold and Darold grew up! You have dancing, music everywhere, basketball, graffiti and a whole lot of other things in the ghetto. Harold was still trying to think about how to get a car as him and Darold were walking along the pavement. No Habib, which meant no Doom Weed to blaze with. Thankfully he knew a friend of his called I need money (yes, that's his name) that could hook them up with some Doom Weed. I need money had I NEED $ carved in his grills, he wore a leopard skin cowboy hat with a feather and a purple jacket. He always had two girls around each of his arms, and he works in the oldest of professions, but I can't tell you what it is here lol. I need money met Harold and Darold when he wrote on a piece of paper and gave it to them. On the paper, it said "I need money", and Harold was all like "Shaznazzle! Me too!" and they started making it together after that. Harold and Darold came across a house. Inside the house was leopard skin carpet, velvet doors and fuzzy dice hanging above the chandelier. There were a lot of women in this house, and they all were carrying money with them. I need money was sitting in his crystal chair, his cane held in his right flipper. Two ladies were standing on each side of him.

"Ay it's I need money wassup dawg!" Harold said, as him and I need money did their secret handshake
"Sup Harold and Darold, what are you two fine cats up to? What music you been listening to?" I need money asked
"Wu Tang clan bro" Harold said
"Oh wu tang I bring the pain the pain the pain ay we don't listen to that chinese shaznazzle!" I need money said angrily
"Yo it's cool, ay we need a ride can you hook us up?" Harold asked
"Sure thing dawg, big papi got a ride for ya this shaznazzle's made out of the shaznazzle from Turkey boy it's what set those Arabs off, this Doom Weed will put a hump on a camel's back boy"
"Arabs in Turkey?"
"Yeah boy it'll make you a dynamite disco daddy for sure"
"Cool hook us up bro"

I need money escorted Harold and Darold out back to this purple van, Doom Weed was on the front tied to sticks for the van grill, there was a Doom Weed printed on the bonnet of the van, in fact the whole van was made out of high grade Doom Weed! Harold looked in the van, the gearshift was a Doom Weed bud and the steering wheel was made out of Doom Weed leaves.

Harold and Darold did a guitar riff with their hands, and brofisted each other. Today was their lucky day it seemed, although they wondered how the van would start.

"Well disco dance with the dang daddy, this van is motherfraiserin sweet!" Harold said, admiring the van
Darold nodded in agreement. Looks like the boys are about to get a little fresh air.
Harold and Darold went in the van and started the van, Harold pulled the clutch in gear and drove off to find Habib in the police station, little did they know that Doom Weed is flammable, and they were driving a van filled with petrol, lol what a.couple of stooges. There was smoke coming out of the back of the van, and the engine whirred loudly as they were cruising along. However, things were about to take a turn for the worst.
"What's that smell? Smells like someone's toking up ay pass the Doom Weed bro" Harold said to Darold.
Darold shook his head to indicate that he doesn't have any Doom Weed, Harold shrugged his shoulders when he noticed it started to get really hot inside the van. That's when he noticed the back of the van was on fire.
"WOAH SHAZNAZZLE GET OUT OF THE VAN!" Harold yelled as him and Darold abandoned ship and the van fully caught on fire and then exploded! The smoke looked like a mushroom cloud as it covered the whole ghetto. Penguins were breathing in the smoke, and they were coming up with some weird shaznazzle. Harold and Darold sighed.
"Don't worry about it Darold, take our problem free philosophy, Hakuna Matata! We'll just walk to the police station." Just then, Harold and Darold were walking along, jivin like turkeys when they noticed two penguins having a conversation. There was a blue penguin and a yellow penguin and they were spaced out bad.
"Dude... like, ok, like what if, get this man, like what if like that theory about the multiverse about how in some parallel universe you're like, someone else. What if you were a rockstar in like, another universe?" the blue penguin said
"Duuuuuude, you totally blew my mind there." the yellow penguin said
"And dude, like what if, there was like, good and bad outcomes, so like in one universe you're a doctor earning like, millions of fraiserin dollars, and then like, ok get this, like in another universe, you're some bad dude that's taken over the world." the blue penguin said
"DUUUUUUUUUDE" the yellow penguin said
"DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE" the blue penguin said
Harold and Darold gave the blue and yellow penguins funny looks.
"Buncha lightweights." Harold muttered underneath his breath. The two kept walking along the pavement. They were close to the police station when suddenly the effects of the smoke from the van started to hit Harold and Darold. Harold started to sing a little tune.

Dingle Dongle Dingle Dongle I'm the disco daddy
And I'm here to show you my fraiserin' caddy!
It's a crib, for a pro like me to spank the paddy
And lay ya down some disco tunes from a disco daddy!

We fly like birds
We drop good turds
And we are the thing
To rule them aaaaaaaallllll!

Dynamite! Disco! Dynamite Disco Daddy!
Dynamite! Disco! Dynamite Disco Daddy!

"Wow that was a wicked sick tune Harold" Darold said.
"Well fraiser me purple sonny, you talked Darold!" Harold replied.
"Yeah well that smoke made me wanna talk more man." Darold said.

So the two guys went over to see Habib in the police station, which was only a block away. Already these boys are getting into more trouble than batman, and it's only a matter of time before things start to get much worse...

Chapter III: Another Habib!

Habib sat in the holding cell in the police station, which was a dingy place. Coffee stains were on the desks and someone tagged one of the walls with a permanent marker. Fluorescent lights were flickering in the background and the office only had five cops in it. Cracks were on the walls where the plaster was starting to fade. The cop shop was a run down place, but then again it is in the ghetto - pretty much everywhere is run down. Not to mention the budget cuts the ghetto police were facing, which were being given to Club Penguin and the other mainland areas. It looked as though the world had given up on the ghetto. The local area commander was sitting at his desk in front of Habib, he was a fat blue penguin in his late forties, his grey hair receding and his belt barely holding his pants together. He had a scar on the right side of his face, which was from when one of the ghetto residents went psychotic and slashed him with a Knicicle.

One of the police officers exited from the office and greeted the local area commander. She was a young twenty year old yellow penguin, fresh out of the academy. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and her uniform was neat and ironed. She held a thick file with the name "Habib Halal" written on it, and was ready to hand it to the local area commander when Habib had to chime in with his two cents.

"Oh man is that my file? Mad! It must be the biggest in the ghetto!"
"Actually the biggest file belongs to Darrel Dound" said the blonde penguin.
"Rachel, we must keep the business of other criminals confidential!" said the local area commander sternly.
"Sorry, sir"

The two cops began reading Habib's file, which was filled with Doom Weed charges, armed robbery, breaking and entering and assault. The local area commander recited the charges to Habib, some of which he was puzzled about.

"Hey I never did armed robbery or breaking and entering!" Habib yelled, angry that they would even put that on his file. There was nowhere in the ghetto that was worth doing an armed robbery, and breaking and entering was pointless since most of the people in the ghetto slept in gutters or on the streets.
"It says so in your file Habib, although I don't remember bringing you in for armed robbery or breaking and entering. Were you in another town?" the local area commander asked.
"Nah bro! I swear I didn't do it!"
"Um, sir?" Rachel piped up, holding another file that said "Habib Halal" on it. "It looks like there's two Habibs!"
"Two Habibs with the same last name and everything? I can't handle two of them!" the local area commander said

The situation was patched up and Habib was let out of the police station. Still angry about how someone almost pulled identity fraud on him, he decided to go see Harold and Darold and talk to them about it. Thankfully for him, Harold and Darold were waiting outside the police station. Night time had fallen on the ghetto, and loud hollering could be heard in the distance, as well as smashed glass bottles. Night time was the most active time in the ghetto, and everyone was always up to mischief. The three walked along the footpath, jivin like turkeys.

"So what was that all about Habib?" Harold wondered, him and Darold were standing out there for five hours, they could only faintly make out what happened as murmurs of voices were heard coming from the police station.
"Get this uleh, someone like full on tried to pull a fraiserin' identity fraud on me! There's two Habibs!" Habib exclaimed, still a bit confused as to what had happened.
"Maybe we can get you off some of your charges Darold, if we claim there's another Darold Dound." Harold said.
"I dunno bro, I think I've got two files worth of shaznazzle that I've done." Darold replied.

The three decided to go back into the police station, there was a penguin yelling inside the holding cell about how corrupt the police are, banging on the reinforced glass. Harold, Darold and Habib were only outside the police station for more than five minutes and already another penguin had been arrested, surprising nobody. Penguins come in and out of the police station like a revolving door.

"Can Darold see his file please?" Harold asked the local area commander
"You two will have to leave while I speak to Darold." the local area commander replied. Harold and Habib went outside and waited for Darold
"Now Darrel" the local area commander continued, "You have two files, as you know. Would you like me to read the charges?"
"Yeah, I wanna check something" Darold said.

The local area commander went into the office for a brief moment, and pulled out two really thick files. He read the charges to Darold, breaking and entering, assault, drunk and disorderly, swearing, armed robbery, escape from police custody, possession of Doom Weed, mugging, the local area commander rattled off more charges for two minutes. Darold was also puzzled at some of them; like Habib, he too didn't remember doing quite a few of them.

"When did I ever do drunk and disorderly? I don't drink. Is there another Darold Dound?" Darold asked;
"Hold on, I'll check." the local area commander said, as he was typing things on the computer. Turns out Darold was right; there is another Darold Dound. The local area commander wouldn't say where this imposter was, so Darold exited the police station to meet up with Harold and Habib.

"Yep, there's another Darold Dound there too." Darold said
"That's so uncanny! What if there's another Harold Hound too?" Harold said, as he went into the police station and asked the same question to the local area commander. Harold's file was only small, he had three charges; swearing, possession of Doom Weed and armed robbery. Harold questioned the armed robbery charge and got the same answer; there was another Harold Hound lurking somewhere in Antarctica. He exited the police station and met up with Darold and Habib.

"Wow! All three of us have clones in another place!" Harold said.
"We gotta put a stop to this before they ruin our good names uleh!" Habib exclaimed.
"First of all, I don't know how good your names are, second of all the local area commander wouldn't say where these guys are. How are we going to find them?" Darold asked
"Don't worry, I know a friend that will help us find them." Harold said, as the three wandered off into the night.

The next day, news spread around the ghetto about Harold's, Darold's and Habib's imposters. News travels quickly around the ghetto since it's such a small community. Penguins from all over the ghetto were lining up in front of the police station to see if another one of them has been committing crimes. To their surprise, everyone in the ghetto had a double that was doing things they never did. Harold, Darold and Habib walked to a run down house, instead of a welcome mat lying in front of the door there was a mat, but it said "Go away" on it. This was the house of Hi-Jacker-Jack, a blue emo penguin who is a renowned hacker for the evil Darktan. As the three entered Hi-Jacker-Jack's house, cables were twisting and turning everywhere on the floor. Inside the lounge room, there was a desk with a computer. There was no TV, the kitchen sink was filled with dirty dishes that haven't been washed for weeks and a foul smell lingered throughout the house.

"Well if it ain't the dynamite disco daddy lol it's time for Jack to let 'er rip!" Harold said, amused at his own antics.
"Shut up Harold, I'm running a MySQL injection on this website. Noobs didn't secure it enough so something as simple as a MySQL injection should give me what I want." Hi-Jacker-Jack said, who was not amused at Harold's antics.
"We need a favor Jack, can you hack into the police computers and find out where our doubles are?" Habib asked
"It's not that simple, I ain't doing it for free either." Hi-Jacker-Jack said, as Habib reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a plastic satchel. It was filled with an ounce of the finest Doom Weed available.
"Okay, I'll do it. This shouldn't take too long." Hi-Jacker-Jack said, as he started entering information into the computer. Whatever he was doing, it looked complicated.
"Looks like your imposters are hanging out in The Slums. Guess you guys are going to go on a mad adventure to track them down I take it." Hi-Jacker-Jack asked, he knew whatever Harold, Darold and Habib were planning it wasn't going to be good.
"Told ya we're all about the good stuff, these guys are gonna pay for making us get in trouble with cops for something we didn't do." Harold said. However, these guys have bigger problems than that. The cops have gotten wind that Harold and Darold were the ones that got everyone high from the van catching on fire, and they're going to call in an old acquaintance of theirs to look after Harold, Darold and Habib...

Chapter IV: The Teacher's Wake!

The Teacher threatening the psychiatrist with a Knicicle

Inside one of Antarctica's maximum security prisons was The Teacher. Why is he called The Teacher? Well he gave himself that nickname because when he was unwell he thought he was the teacher, and the world was his students. Nobody knows his real name. You'll remember in the last chapter where it said one of the ghetto residents went psychotic and slashed the local area commander with a Knicicle. That penguin was The Teacher. He is an old brown penguin with wrinkles all over his face and a white beard similar to Rockhopper's. The whites of his eyes were blood red from days of sleep deprivation. Six days he hasn't gone to sleep for, and he was placed in solitary confinement. It was only a matter of time before he would snap again, ready to unleash a darkness of insanity and destruction. However, The Teacher was quite cluey in crimminal behavior. As one of the ghetto residents, he knew what the Doom Weed scene was like and he knew what the ghetto was like. He even knew Bugzy, the head of the Underground PWN Mafia. The Teacher has had a lot of experience, he's about fifty years old but he can't fight, as the over flood of dopamine in his brain slows down his reaction time, so he uses weapons to get what he wants.

"Hello The Teacher, how are you?" The Teacher said.
"I feel just DANDY! What if this is all a conspiracy? Being in here is a big joke. The government's in debt and they're using me as collateral. Bunch of limp cops trying to tell me what to do, they're all against me. SHUT UP!" The Teacher replied to himself, as he heard a voice talk back to him. It wasn't anyone's voice however, it was all in his head. Just as he was talking to himself, a psychiatrist walked in his cell. He was a red penguin with a red jumper on, he was wearing glasses and he was rather short. Obviously he was an Adelie Penguin.
"Talking to yourself again are we?" the psychiatrist asked.
"I talk to myself because sometimes I need expert advice." The Teacher replied.
"We have a proposition for you, since you know a lot about the ghetto we're going to release you. However, you must agree to take your medications and you must agree to help the police in catching two suspects."
"Who are these suspects?"
"They go by the name of Harold Hound and Darrel Dound."

The Teacher scrunched his face at the remark. He knew both Harold Hound and Darold Dound, for Darold was an old inmate of his and he's on a bitter relationship with Harold Hound, for The Teacher was the one who killed his father.
"His name is Darold, not Darrel. Or maybe it is. What if it isn't any of them? What if he's just using a fake alias to try trick me? I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!" The Teacher yelled, hearing that voice again. He started to think it was the psychiatrist's voice, so he went underneath his bed and pulled out a Knicicle.
"IT'S YOU ISN'T IT?! I'LL KILL YOU!"

Suddenly an alarm went off, and five screws rushed into the cell and disarmed The Teacher before he could do anything by putting him in a sleeper hold. The Teacher eventually gave in to the threat, and let go of the Knicicle. The psychiatrist wasn't really fazed by the whole ordeal however, he had been dealing with mental health for thirty years and knew what the patients were like at their worst. The screws then placed a device around The Teacher's neck; it was a shock device. Electrotherapy has been used for centuries for the severe cases, and it seemed to be the only way to make The Teacher comply. He never took his medication, for he thinks that meds are a bad thing and only serve to dumb you down.

"This shock collar will make sure you don't do anything bad. Whenever you have murderous thoughts, this shock collar will activate. Since you refuse to take your medication, I'm afraid this is the only option we have." the psychiatrist said.
"You chain me like a dog, just remember that every dog has it's day." The Teacher sneered.
"And what is a dog exactly?" the psychiatrist asked.
"Never mind, anyway what do you want me to do about Harold and Darold?"
"Find them. Don't kill or delete them, just find them and bring them to the police station. Once you do that we'll talk about letting you free officially. You can go back to your life. No more shock collars, no more guards. You'll be free to do as you please as long as it isn't about killing or deleting people."
"Very well, they won't go far."

Meanwhile, Harold and Darold were singing their favoirte song;

WE GOT THE FLY SWAG
IT AIN'T ONE TO JAG
SEE THAT GORILLA WALKIN ALONG
TAKIN A HIT FROM THE BONG
PACK THAT CONE SMOKE THAT DOOM WEED
THEN SOON YOU WILL BE FREED
JIVIN ALONG LIKE TURKEYS
EATIN SOME OF THAT BEEF JERKY
DOOM WEED'S BEEN FOUND
BLAZE ONE ALL AROUND

As they were singing, they were wondering what to do now that the van was destroyed. Suddenly, Harold had an idea. Why not go down to Bugzy's Public Civilian Gambling Hall that is DEFINATELY Legal and try win some money for a ride to The Slums? It was only an hour away by walking. Just one problem though; Harold and Darold didn't have any money. That's okay though, they'll just steal the Pwnz (the chips used in the casino) from some schmuck, lol. Harold and Darold brofisted each other and went on their merry way. They ran into Habib, who was being hassled by one of this customers. He was reluctant to sell Doom Weed to this particular customer, as he was a full blown addict. The addict was a light blue penguin, he was shaking and he was very edgy.

"I need somethin' to help me out." the addict said to Habib.
"Yeah, rehab, mouth wash and a job application jeez." Habib replied.
"I'm starting to recognize things...."
"That's cause you're coming down over three month Doom Weed binge it's called reality son, later man."
"No wait wait wait wait Habib listen, you got anything for a head wound?"
"Man there ain't nothin wrong with your head!" Habib exclaimed, then the addict bashed his head against the ground hard.
"There is now!" the addict said, as he then fainted on to the ground. He wasn't dead or anything, just a bit knocked out.
Habib just shook his head in disgust, "Fraiserin' weedhead."

Harold and Darold walked up to Habib and brofisted him.
"Oh shaznazzle Harold and Darold!" Habib exclaimed.
"Wassup dog" Harold said to Habib, as Habib laughed.
"What are you crazy crackas up to?"
"We're gonna go to the casino and try win us some money for a car"
"I know the guy who runs that casino, his name is Bugzy. Tell em I sent ya, he'll hook ya up."

Harold and Darold brofisted Habib once more, and walked off to the casino. The scenery while walking was lovely. Frozen icicles hanged from the tips of trees and puffles were sharing an O-Berry with each other. While the scenery was nice to look at, matters were starting to get worse. The Teacher noticed their tracks. It wasn't hard to distinguish Harold and Darold's tracks, small feet next to big feet. The Teacher grabbed some of the snow from the tracks and ate it.

"They're fresh tracks. This is going to be much easier than I thought. Come on class, school's in!"

Chapter V: Casino Jackpot!

Harold and Darold finally reached Bugzy's Public Civilian Gambling Hall that is DEFINATELY Legal, or as it is simply known as the casino. It was very busy, penguins were playing Old Maid, or as it is also known around these parts, Ol' Bugzy. Checkers were being played and shifty penguins were walking around the casino. Inside the casino was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, tables were everywhere and penguins gathered around them, eager to waste away their Pwnz, the chips used in the casino. Bugzy, a big black beetle with flames tattooed on himself, wearing a fedora, was walking around the casino grounds, grinning at penguins losing their Pwnz. Looks like today is going to be yet another profitable day. Harold and Darold saw a pink penguin with a pocketful of Pwnz, the perfect schmuck.

"Okay Darold, you distract her while I get the Pwnz." Harold said, then Darold walked over to the penguin and started flexing his muscles. The pink penguin was amazed at how strong Darold looked, then Harold sneakily went behind her and grabbed some of the Pwnz out of her pocket. It was the equivalent to fifty coins. Harold waved to Darold, signalling him to stop and they waddled over to the Checkers table.
"I'm good at checkers, this'll be a piece of cake!" Harold exclaimed. However, he didn't foresee that his opponent was going to be Bugzy himself. Bugzy sat down and flexed his arms.