Commie Run: Kingdom

(A/N this chapter has cussing because haha bad word funny it's 2am send help)

the sun was setting over the tiny kingdom, casting a golden light on the revolutionary cookies, who had just about finished their last round of "truth or dare" and were lounging in the common area. smc was still sulking in a corner, rubbing his glitter-streaked hands and pouting about how hard it was to scrub the jam bucket (while secretly thinking it was the best jam bucket he'd ever touched).

but then.

the door slammed open.

and in walked Agar Agar Cookie—a literal walking disaster in cookie form. she was big. too big. like, towering over the others, white stuff spilling from her sides. her eyes were hungry, and the scent of sugar and greed followed her like a cloud.

"what's this...?" she muttered, surveying the kingdom with a greedy gleam in her eye. she took in the tiny houses, the sugar fields, and then—her eyes locked onto the cookies.

"...yummy," she said, licking her lips and moving closer.

before anyone could react, agar agar cookie lunged forward, stuffing an entire Gingerbrave into her mouth like it was a snack. gingerbrave's eyes went wide with horror.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?" he screamed. "SOMEONE HELP ME—SHE'S EATING ME!"

but it was too late. Agar Agar Cookie was on a roll. literally. she was devouring cookies left and right, crumbling gingerbrave into goo, chewing up strawberry cookie's hat, and gnawing on wizard cookie's robes.

"THIS BITCH IS INSANE!" shouted chilli pepper, clutching her stolen loot to her chest.

"IS SHE A CAPITALIST?!" cried custard cookie, holding his crown protectively.

"SHE'S A FUCKING PIG!!" shouted gingerbrave, still half-mashed inside her mouth. he was shaking, terrified, with his cookie legs sticking out. "SOMEBODY HELP—"

the kingdom was in chaos. cookies were running around in panic, trying to escape Agar Agar Cookie's insatiable appetite. but there was one cookie—one cookie who would bring the wrath of communism upon this greedy bitch.

and that cookie? was—

Marx Cookie.

he stormed in, his cookie beard flowing like a revolutionary hero, his mustache as fierce as his ideals. he was wearing a tattered red cloak and carrying a huge book titled "Das Cookie."

"WHAT IS THIS?!" Marx Cookie screamed, pointing dramatically at Agar Agar, who was now chowing down on an entire batch of freshly baked cookies. crumbs fell from her lips like crumbs of exploitation.

"YOU FAT CAPITALIST!!" Marx Cookie roared in the most revolutionary tone ever. "YOU'RE TAKING EVERYTHING FROM US! THE SWEETNESS BELONGS TO THE PEOPLE!"

Agar Agar Cookie stopped, her mouth full of half-digested ginger and sugar, blinking in confusion. "What...? Who's this?"

Marx Cookie slammed the book onto the ground with a dramatic THUD. "I AM THE SPIRIT OF THE WORKERS! I AM MARX COOKIE, AND YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS—"

before anyone could even blink, Marx Cookie whipped out a large hammer made entirely of chocolate and smashed Agar Agar Cookie's greedy face in. it wasn't pretty. she was done for.

"YOUR CAPITALIST ASS WON'T BE EATING ANYTHING MORE!" Marx Cookie shouted as Agar Agar Cookie crumbled into a pile of crumbs, her last cries muffled by the ever-churning gears of the revolution.

"oh shit," said chilli pepper. "that was dramatic."

"i love him," said custard, still holding his crown.

Gingerbrave slowly climbed out of Agar Agar's now-lifeless mouth. He brushed himself off, looking somewhat traumatized but grateful to be alive.

"thank... thank you, Marx Cookie..." he said, still shaking.

Marx Cookie adjusted his revolutionary cloak, nodding firmly. "The workers of the cookie kingdom stand together. No greedy pigs will take what is ours."

lenin strode in just as the crumbs settled, looking extremely pissed off. his eyes burned with the fire of a thousand revolutions.

"what did i tell you?" he snarled, stomping over to Agar Agar's pile of broken dough. "no one. NO ONE gets to eat the revolution! this is about sharing, not stuffing your face like a fat bourgeois swine!"

the cookies were silent for a moment, staring at the scene before them.

"honestly," lenin muttered, rubbing his temples, "sometimes, i wonder why i bother."