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Coco Goes Loco

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Eugene was alone with Coco, wondering how he would go about asking Rosita to breastfeed him, when the baby girl suddenly started crying. He peered into her crib. She saw his bloated dough face and cried even harder.

"Aw, Morocco." Eugene forgot her full name. "Why are you weeping?"

Well, my mother is stuck in a horrible love quadrangle, my father is headed for the nuthouse, the other guy isn't my dad and serves no purpose and his milky eye freaks me out, and let's not even get started on you, Coco thought while also internally lamenting the fact that she was only three months old and couldn't properly verbalize yet, which she expressed to Eugene and the universe by continuing to scream her head off. Plus, the three men and a baby jokes aren't that funny.

Eugene awkwardly reached into the crib, figuring he'd better rock the little girl or something since she'd already been fed, burped, and changed (unbeknownst to him, she was crying because she hated him), but she bitch-slapped his hands away. An AR-15 appeared out of thin air and Coco gripped it in her chubby little fists and cocked it. It weighed more than she did, but she didn't fucking care.

"Goo goo gaga," she babbled at Eugene, aiming the weapon at him. Only Coco needed a gun like that.

Eugene couldn't escape.

Rosita was having a bad day. She really had to get out of the house and find a woman to talk to that wasn't her baby daughter. Eugene definitely wasn't her first choice of babysitter, but the man had begged her to let him watch Coco and everyone else was busy. Rosita finally acquiesced because it would give him something to do that didn't involve fiddling with the radio or himself, and Eugene needed to learn how to be a responsible adult. Still, Rosita couldn't shake a sense of foreboding about leaving Coco in Eugene's care, even though she wasn't scared for her child's safety.

When she left the house, Father Gabriel tried to follow her, whining like a black, middle-aged, half-blind Caillou. He had been more irritating than usual lately, so she finally snapped and told him to take his ass to church and stay there. Thankfully, she hadn't seen him since.

Rosita did enjoy a couple hours to herself, though, and was able to have some nice conversations with other female residents of Alexandria that weren't about men. She was on her way home when she saw a seemingly uninjured woman who looked like she was named Karen knock on the infirmary door. Rosita couldn't help but bristle.

As Siddiq slowly opened the door, Karen proceeded to announce, "I can suck the PTSD right out of you–" before she was interrupted by Siddiq promptly bursting into tears and slamming the door in her face. Rosita rushed up and shoved Karen into the middle of the street, where she was trampled by a horse.

Siddiq threw himself out the window as opposed to exiting out the door because he did weird stuff like that nowadays. It had taken Rosita a few minutes to convince him to leave the infirmary and come home with her to see their daughter. She held his hand so he wouldn't wander off.

When they made it home, Rosita thought she was experiencing one of Siddiq's schizoaffective PTSD episodes. Eugene lay dead on the floor in a massive pool of blood, his still-bloating corpse marred with dozens of bullet holes. He was also covered in projectile baby vomit. "DON'T FUCK WITH COCO" was scrawled on the wall in red. The baby herself burbled in her crib and sucked on her fingers, which were stained with Eugene's blood.

Siddiq passed out (Rosita caught him) and woke up again two-and-a-half seconds later. Rosita lifted her daughter out of the crib and kissed her head. "Good girl, Coco!" she praised. She passed the child to her father, and he held his emotional support baby and immediately felt better. In fact, he felt so good that he took off all his clothes, and Rosita followed suit. Coco went back to bed. She was exhausted after her busy day.

Basically the entire town crowded around the windows to watch because Rosita and Siddiq didn't think to draw the shades. Much to the disappointment of the townsfolk, there was no penetration as the couple quickly became occupied with a game of naked charades.

Still, everyone cheered when Eugene's corpse grew so bloated that it exploded.