Ahh, sleep.

A necessity essential in any living organism's life.

A massive relief where you can just reeelaaaxx.. close your tired eeeeeyeeees.. and just drift off to a niiiice, caaaaalmiiing place we all adore wholeheartedly called 'Dreamland.'

And right now? You were having probably one of da best slumbers EVA. (insert echo effect eva.. eva.. eva.. eva.. eva.. psst. KABLOOIE JUMPSCARE1!1!1!)

But little did your unconscious self know..

.. that some little bastard who's name begins with J and ends off with Y was about to ruin it ALL.

Wearily listening to the sounds of your steady breathing and occasional snores, the Scout was trying his hardest best to be as quiet as one annoying anklebiter from Boston could be. As he tiptoed into your room, he eyed your bed and your sleeping figure laid on top of it, a wide and wicked grin spreading over his lips as a devious thought formed in his pea-sized brain.

Just as Mark (untiedshoelaces)in plush unicorn form was about to invite you over to their Barbie dream house for a glass of glorious wine with King Henry VIII and Everex, you were brutally jolted awake from your dream by being harshly shook by the shoulders. The minute you opened your eyes you saw Scout, his signature smug and self-proud grin spread across his lips as if he just found the cure to cancer and then proceeded to lock it away inaccessible to the rest of the suffering world.

The only words that left the little fucker's smile-spread lips were tinted with a taunting tone, only making your current situation more bizarre.

“Heeeeeeyaaa, toots. Havin' a nice sleep, I seeee?”