Path 1: P, B and B?- Raising A Baby:

Peaches and Bready just stood there smiling. What just happened? Well, they didn't know. And if you don't know... well... why not just stand there staring blankly into space happily? ... alas, stupidity or ignorance could not be tolerated at BHZ... well... at BHZ, yes. But... in this group... it is NOT... well, actually yes. Whgh- cummon, you know what I mean...

   "Peaches? Bready? ... hello?" YD waved her hand in front of the nutty couple of dumbdumbs, but still, not a single trace of contact between the three of them was recieved. ... well... not for long.

   "PAY ATTENTION!!!!!" YD lost her smile and screamed into the two of their ears, and even then, just barely did they hear her.

   "Oh... you said something?" Peaches looked at YD blankly, clueless of what was going on.

   "Look, Peaches, it's time to go!" YD pointed in the direction of the things she and Bready were supposed to be accomplishing. "You're supposed to go get the robe!"

   "Why would I want a robe?" Peaches twizzled her finger in her ear, trying to see if she could hear her any clearer. "I'd rather go and get one of those new dresses... maybe some ice cream... some new jewelry... oh! And maybe some pie while I'm at it."

   "fhjkslsdds!" Bready screamed with delighted, meaning something of the matter of, "pie".

   "Well, you two really need to get a move on. Get that robe!" YelloDello ordered.

   "Ohhhh, okay." Bready and Peaches said (well, actually, that's what Bready was TRYING to say... but I digress.), nodding their heads in unison. "... when come back, bring pie."

   YelloDello's pupils twitched (no, not Bready and Peaches, though soon they probably will be.) and she looked up at the ignorant couple in a slow manner and-

   "Y-yes madame." Peaches was shaking all over like a school staircase railing after a hand has slid from it's top to it's bottom. "No more funny business for us!"

   "Are you... sure?" muttered YelloDello coldly.

   "YES!!" went the outburst of the obviously frightened Peach-loving girl (that is, unless you've lived under a rock, grown a beard, then noticed the rock was starting to get mossy and old, and then finally had the rock collapse on you, leaving you back out in society with no idea was has gone on for the last 90 years.). "Yes! YES! Yes."

   "fhjkslsdds! fhjkslsdds!" pleaded Bready, with his 16-bit hands clasped together in a dire attempt to stop the madness that had ensued just moments before.

   "Good, then. Now, leave... any time from now to 10 o minutes." YelloDello directed. Well, they didn't know what exactly how many minutes 10 o minutes really were, so... they headed off at the moment YelloDello stopped talking.

   YelloDello grinned a sinister smile, then slowly pulled out an unheavenly sight from behind her back. She looked at it quizzically.

   "Hmm... that was surprisingly easy." YelloDello remarked, holding up the book, flipping through it's handworn pages. "Who would've known they'd be afraid of this?"

   YD shrugged and went on reading, "Antidisestablishmentarianism. Part of Speech: Noun. Example of use, coming straight from a classroom: I don't know what disestablishmentarianism means, I don't even think my mother knows what disestablishmentarianism means. Sheeshcakes, I don't even think the TEACHER knows what disestablishmentarianism means!"

   "Okay, Bread." Peaches rambled on, walking through the trees. "So what we do now? We need to get the robe, but how exactly do we do that?"

   "fhjkslsdds." As known to happen as the sound of a remote turning on the TV.

   "Ooh! Periods! Good jo..." Peaches was about to go on, before she noticed Rather Evil being kicked violently out of a cottage by a female peasant in a peasant wood rocking chair with a peasantly appearanced baby in everyway.

   "Now, you get out of here, you shortpants'd, deviled ear'd, fang tooth'd imbecile!" cried the mother. "If you were stupid enough to give me wet soggy hay and this putrid donkey instead of my lost fortune, you're definetely not worthy of raising my child!"

   "Why won't you get out of your rockingchair anyway?" Rather Evil grunted, as he was bowled over by the peasantly carved architecture of the bottom of the chair.

   "Because... it's comfy." the mother grinned randomly.

   "Comfy? Not from down here, it isn't." Rather Evil's lips were being slammed down by the rim of the chair.

   "Well, fine. Try get in my seat, then."

   "Okay... fine." Rather Evil sat down, and a happy smile escaped his flattened lips. "... wow. Comfy. Very. Comfy."

   "See? Now, gittout." she commanded, as Rather Evil started his slow, quiet maniacal laughter.

   "Oh, cummon. Didn't you ever check the PRICE TAG?" Rather Evil smiled a most Grinchy smile (or why not say "Grile". That sounds both Grimy, Vile, like the Grinch, and like a smile to top it off! How wonderful!).

   "The... what?!" she looked at his Grinchy smile and added, "Stop that."

   "This chair is worth TRILLIONS. More than your puny "lost fortune" could suffice." Rather Evil's Grile to an all time high, it nearly looked ready to pop off his face, take his lips, his hair and never come back.

   "WHAT?!" the woman shrieked. "Let me guess, you're going to take it."

   "NO, my poor girl. I'm not giving it back. I'm taking it- oh." Rather Evil scratched his hand. "I thought for sure you were going to say, 'Give it back!'. That's how the cliché goes..."

   "Oh, where?" the woman asked.

   "Oh, you know." Rather Evil said, pulling out an extensive yellow book. "Somewhere here in the, 'Villain/Commoner Comeback Trade'. Somewhere down in that 4th paragraph..."

   "Ah. There it is." the woman peered down into the book. "Doesn't it have anything on commoners winning a battle? Or taking BACK they're things?"

   "Oh no, but there is something about fighting back. But it's only used once every..." Rather Evil looked down in the book, and found himself falling into the book, past the vaulted doors where impossible things happen that the world's never seen before... Section 7A, and slappack in to the 3rd Subsection of 2B... wait, not 2B. 3rd Subsection... of Section 3B. Yes.

   "I'm getting this chair back, nothing you can do about it!" jeered the woman, as she headed for the hills, leaving the baby behind, and as Rather Evil ran after her.

   "Well... that was surprisingly coincidental, ironic, and plain dumb luck ducky!" Peaches grinned. "Thanks, narrator!"

   Well, you know me and the other low voiced narrators. We just doin' our job.

   "Well, guess we have to raise this child, throw it in to wells and fish ponds, and squeeze it through a hole inside a thatched roof cottage." Peaches picked the baby. "How parental is THAT?"

   "Not very!" Bready rejoiced.

   "Whoa, your first words came in were just in time for the punchline! Keep up the pace!" Peaches congradulated Bready, and picked up the large yellow cliché book. "And now, I think it's time for another cliché... PARENTAL MONTAGE!!" The last 2 words echoed into the airstream. "That's just plain awexome cross."

   Peaches took a deep breath and started up the montage,

We've started off into the time of parenthood...

taking care of this ol' peasant chiiild...

And we don't know,

until we grow how (said at a rapider pace ->) hard this "taking care" will turn out to be...

But we'll see

Unless we flee,

HOW STUPID WE ALL CAN BEEE!! WITH A BAAABBYYYY...

*insert montage of baby throwing Mash Ed Potatoes on Bready, Peaches, and the narrators face here*

*insert Bready licking it off of everyones faces here*

*insert blatant field thingy where you spin around in a circle forever and ever here*

And.. *insert random baby falling into a (insert impending doom here) here*

   "There!" Peaches exclaimed. "That pretty much does it! All we need now is a weird creepy pet to start our family off! .. like this piece of bread! Let's name it... Like This Piece of Bread. But we'll just call it, "Like Bread". Sounds good! All making a completely cliché, montage, song, and sitcom acceptable family! Though that Blatant Field Thingy.. I think we need a little bit more of that for it to be a successful Parental Mountain cliché I talked about here."

   "Not very!" Bready confirmed proudly.

   "I dunno what you mean but I'm doing it anyways! WEEEEEEE!!" Peaches exclaimed while *inserting blatant field thingy where you spin around in a circle forever and ever here*.

   "Now, what'll we do now?" Peaches asked Bready. "Keep him some more, or get that robe back and let him go his own way?"

   "Not very." Bready said.

   "Keep him some more? ALRIGHT!" Peaches cheered.

   Oh, you know that's not what he said.

   "Oh, he said it. You just don't know what he says. Only I do."

   Oh, really?

   "Oh yeah."

   Oh-oh-oh!

   "Oh. Well. I guess-"

   Oh?

   "OHHH... okay. I guess we really do need to hurry on that whole, 'getting robe thing'..." Peaches whimpered, backing away a few tears. "But... how can I do that montage thing again after this? It's just not fair! Rye doesn't deserved to be stripped away from his sitcom acceptable family!"

   "Rye?" Bready asked.

   "Yeah, his name is Rye Bread. Catchy name, eh?" Peaches said.

   I'm guessing Bready wants to go over how naming a person leads to affections. But, obviously, it's too late.

   "Yeah, but that's okay. Because that's sitcom approved too!" Peaches exclaimed.

   GO PUT OL' PUMPERNICKLE INTO THE COTTAGE.

   "Okay, all caps! That's your game, huh?" Peaches asked. "YOU DO YOUR JOB!"

   THIS IS MY JOB.

   "Annoying people and ordering them around is also part of your job?"

   ... YEAH.

   "Ah, yes. I should've remembered. Oh well, nothing's perfect. Bready, let's go put Rye through that door. ... what do you think the chances are me of actually putting him through that cottage and letting him go off like that?"

   "Not very." Bready answered.

   "Whoa. That actually matched..." Peaches sniffed, held Rye close to him, and cried like a maniac. Well, she was one. So that it wasn't LIKE a maniac... it was... EXACTLY like a maniac. "I NEED RYE AND HE NEEDS ME AND THAT'S FINAL! And how much does anyone really care boot that stupid robe?!"

   "Not very." Bready repeated.

   "Actually, the correct term is 'Not much.' You may want to start working on your grammar." Peaches said, once again in her scientific mode.

   That wasn't exactly was Bready was saying.

   "Uh?" Peaches asked.

   "Not very." Bready yelled.

   "Excuse me?" Peaches asked.

   I think Bready needs a little translation. Even if he was talking normal, you wouldn't understand him. PRESS THE BUTTON!

   "I GOT A ROCCCKKKK!"

   Ooops.

   "What about we get rid of that weird pet we have instead of the peasant kid we did montages with?"

   "WHOA! MIND WARP! OH NO! IT'S A BLACK HOLE!" Peaches held her brain down in intense confusion. "AAAAGH!!!"

   Okay, Bready. While Peaches unleashes that Black Hole of his, why don't we go stick Like Bread through the cottage?

   "fhjkslsdds!" Bready agreed with a big smile.

   You said it!

   "Me did?" Bready backed away.

   Yeah, yeah you did.

   "Oh." Bready smiled again, and did a big thumbs up.

   Bready swiftly stuck the bread piece through and rummaged around until the syrup ontop stuck to something, and he reeled it in. Rye crawled up to him as Peaches held her brain closed in anguish.

   "Eh! Rye want to fish?" Bready asked. (Wow, you're catching onto typing pretty fast for your kinda bread brain!) "OKAY!"

   Bready gave Rye the bread, and let Rye fish around with it until it seemed like he wasn't going to do anything, then Bready helped him pull it out. Well, it wasn't a very pleasant looking bread afterward, but they'd managed to get the robe out, and he'd managed not to- *chomp*- oh great, he couldn't resist himself.

   "Wow, you got the robe! And Rye's still here!" Peaches rejoiced, with a big hole through her head. "Though... why's that bread in your mouth? I mean, it's all moldy and stuff."

   "Uh?" Bready answered in a bread stuffed mouth, filled with dirt and dust-bunnies.

   "Actually, gimme a piece of that bread! Like Bread will sure taste good!"

   Like Bread! Nearly exactly like bread, except for syrup and other miscellaneous junk on it.

   "Thanks for the blatant product placement, narrator!" Peaches said through crumbs of bread.

   The trio ate their bread and tested out new sandwiches in the bad graphics plain like bad graphics picnic, and as the camera zoomed out on the tender moment to accentuate all it's tenderousity and such. Sitcom acceptable. Ahhh..

   Now, what you can do is go to the 2 other choices or just stop now. Or you can put down this chapter in disgust and wait for the next, which will have other characters, instead of just the insane comic reliefs. YAY!