You are known as the greatest Killjoy of all time. You know it’s not true. After finding some kind of BL/Ind drugs, you got hooked on them, and now you can’t even function without them. Only Dr D knows you’re not the ‘wonderful’ Killjoy you’re named to be. You can’t really tell anybody else, since you know how much the Killjoys look up to you, let alone the fact that they probably wouldn’t even believe you.

You’re having quite the breakdown in your car, causing you to pull over at what looks like an abandoned diner. You get out, taking a few deep breaths, before grabbing the little bottle the drugs are in. You quickly take a few, even just the feeling of swallowing them helping you calm down. You suddenly hear the sound of multiple people running out of the diner. They come around the corner, pointing their guns at you. You look at them, realising it’s the Fab Four. You’ve heard of them before, knowing they’re a pretty popular group. Once you make eye contact with them, they drop their guns.

Fun Ghoul: “You’re…you’re [Killjoy name]..”

Party Poison: “Shit, we-..we didn’t mean to do that to you. We thought you were an intruder or something..” They put their hands up.

Jet Star: “Yeah..we didn’t mean to. We’re like..big fans..” Fun Ghoul hits him in the arm.

Kobra Kid: “What did you just take? And why were you freaking out so much?”