PARFAIT from the GRAVE.

"Now I said 'Goddamnit! You will listen to me this instant!'" said the exuberant glob of fat known at Walter. "You will listen to me, and listen to me well! Noone in this house is to touch my chocolate ice cream parfait. Those who dare scavenge my frozen delight will surely pay dire consequences, faggots." said Walter to his roommates, Nigger Jim and Dewtrough. Nigger Jim and Dewtrow obliged politely, but it was a psuedo-obligement, they planned on touchin' that parfait.
The day continued with Nigger Jim, Dewtrough, and Walter doing their routines. Brushing their teeth, eating lunch, cutting holes in cantalopes to fornicate, and drying their bedsheets. After dinner Walter said, "It's getting late, I'm going to bed. Good night boys, but don't touch my parfait, or ya know, I'll kill ya and shit." The boys agreed and Walter went to his room, where he fell asleep on his red, lead bed. "Let's fuckin' eat that shit!" yelled Nigger Jim. "Oh fa sho, homeskillet! I had my eye on that treat all night and I feel like I could eat that parfait and say something along the lines of, 'Wow. I am extremely glad I stole Walter's parfait. My hunger is satisfied and I kinda wanna kill Walter.'" said Dewtrough. "You wanna kill Walter too?" replied Nigger Jim. "Ever since he said not to take his parfait I wanted to kill him so I could take his parfait." Dewtrough exclaimed.
The boys decided the best way to KILL WALTER was to take a Cal Ripkin Jr. rookie card and give Walter papercuts in between his toes until he was like "Ouch! Fuckin' stop douchebags! It hurts! And what the fuck, that's a Cal Ripkin Fucking Jr. rookie card, where the fuck did you just find one of those? They're like rare and shit, and you're just using it to give me papercuts in between my toes!" and then when he was screaming in pain from the card, to shoot him with a gun in the head. So they did. And then they cleaned up Walter's dead corpse with Lysol and whatever other kind of cleaning shit that Walter kept under the sink, andate his parfait. They then proceeded to puke all of it up onto Walter's grave because it wasn't even good, it actually was like a week old and already half-eaten, and it was like a little bit chunky, but they weren't too sure. "Serves him right. Never should have threatened me like that over that parfait." said Nigger Jim. "Damn straight." said Dewtrough.