My Big Fat Creepy Roommate

Four Years Later


Two men were relaxing in a cottage somewhere deep in the Alaskan wilderness. They were sitting on the couch, enjoying the views of the sunset through the big window.

"This was a good idea, Mordecai," said one of the men. "Chris was such a fool to trust us."

"I'm so glad we took the opportunity to bail, Keith," Mordecai agreed with his housemate. "Who knew what a beautiful state Alaska is?"

"We've been here for four years," Keith mused. "Which just goes to show how successful our escape was! They even gave us U.S. citizenship! There is no way Chris could make us come back without causing a stir between America and Canada."

"Which I wouldn't mind, to be honest," Mordecai scoffed. "Fuck Canada. Fuck that backwards ass country for allowing some asshole like Chris to openly keep slaves and commit murder whenever he feels like it. I always get the feeling that Canadians are projecting whenever they go on and on about how Canada is better than America when it comes to human rights."

"The reality is the opposite," Keith agreed, scowling. "Over here, we are treated as human beings with the same rights as everybody else. They gave us asylum, some land to grow our own crops and citizenship. Over there we were treated like shit. Here is paradise!"

"What matters is that right now we are free," Mordecai assured his friend, "and we get to put our past behind us once and for all-"

*Knock*

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"Residents!" said an eerily familiar voice.

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"Residents!" the voice repeated itself.

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"Residents!"

Mordecai and Keith sighed relentlessly. "God damn it!" Keith muttered.

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"Residents!"

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"Residents!"

"What the hell is he doing here?" Mordecai grunted.

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"Residents!"

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"Residents!"

"We have no choice," Keith huffed. He walked over to the door, turned the lock and lifted the doorknob. He opened the door, to reveal the only person in the world who could have knocked in this way.

"What the hell do you want?" Keith demanded.

Trent stared Keith up and down. He recognised him. "Kimmmmmmm?!" he exclaimed, puzzled.

Keith, formally named Kim, glared at Trent. "Yes, it's me. What do you want? And why are you putting so much emphasis on the 'm'?" he demanded.

"Every name should have nine letters," Trent explained. "To please the Ninth God."

"I take it you haven't changed a thing in the last four years," Keith sneered.

"Does Chris know that you're gone?" Trent asked.

"That's none of your business," Keith glared at Trent. "I'd advise you to go away." Trent ignored him and ran past Keith into the cottage to see Mordecai.

"Hey Millicent!" Trent chirped.

Mordecai was livid. "Keith, why did you let that cultist in?" he demanded.

"It's Trent!" Keith muttered.

"What are you guys doing in Alaska?" Trent asked, curiously. "There are plenty of states in America that have nine letters in their names. Like New Jersey, New Mexico, Minnesota-"

"We're here to get away from you," Mordecai replied. "Not just from you, but from everyone associated with Total Drama!"

"Now that you guys are free, are you guys interested in joining the Number Nine Religion?" Trent asked.

"No!" Keith and Mordecai yelled in unison.

"WHAT?!" Trent asked. His face scrunched up into a scowl. "WHY NOT?!" he demanded.

"Because we have better things to be doing besides joining your death cult!" Mordecai snapped. "Now get off our property!"

"If you won't join, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you both nine times!" Trent hissed.

Mordecai and Keith grabbed their AR-15s and aimed them at Trent. Their fingers itched on the trigger guards. Trent instantly froze in fear.

"Oh wow," said Trent, stunned. "You guys have gone psycho."

"I meant what I said," Mordecai growled. "We want absolutely nothing to do with you or Total Drama. If you don't get off our property within the next ten seconds, you will get nine bullets to that empty head of yours."

"Nine bullets?!" Trent squealed. "The Ninth God will be impressed.

"You're right," Keith snickered. "How about ten bullets?!"

Trent backed away. "Oh well, I'll just let the Ninth God kill you heathens," he shrugged, struggling to hide his fear in vain.

"I'm gonna count to ten…" Keith was getting impatient. "One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine-"

Trent was out of the cottage by the time Keith said 'nine'. He darted off to the car where Owen was waiting for him.

"Any luck?" Owen asked.

"Nope," Trent scowled. "Kimmmmmmm and Millicent live in this cottage, but they won't convert to the Number Nine Religion because they are blasphemous heretics!"

"Did you ask them if they'd seen Justinnnn anywhere?" Owen asked.

"Nah," Trent shrugged. "What would a blasphemous heretic know? Besides, they have AR-15s when everyone should be owning an AR-9 and they will shoot you ten times instead of nine times!"

"Well they can go to the Place Devoid of the Number Nine then," Owen shrugged. Trent fastened his seatbelt and slammed his foot on the pedals.


Meanwhile, somewhere else in Alaska, a middle-aged man in Canadian army uniform unlocked a door. He opened it revealing a staircase into the basement. He descended the staircase and turned on the lights, revealing an elderly man and a pale white man with a long beard.

"That beard is just not gonna do," the army man chuckled, grabbing a scissors.

"You suck!" the pale white man snapped. "What year is it anyway?!"

"Get a calendar, Justin," the middle-aged man shook his head, as he proceeded to cut Justin's beard.

"You wouldn't let me have one, Chef," Justin scowled, but Chef ignored him. "I forgot the last time I had maple syrup!"


It's been four years since I've last updated this story. I know that a lot has changed since then, but I've been feeling nostalgic lately and I felt the need to update one of my T-rated stories.