“No, We’re Just Friends” | 4Chan Greentext Stories
A4CHAN
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The script and all text in this video are my intellectual property.
Original story written by me (A4CHAN).
All characters and events are fictional. The content is created for entertainment purposes only.
In this video, Anon panics when his mom demands he “bring his girlfriend” to a big family dinner—right after a breakup—so he recruits his best friend Miranda to fake-date him with strict rules and a believable backstory. The act works too well: Miranda naturally wins the family, shuts down the ex Janet when she resurfaces, and the “just friends” lie slowly collapses into a real relationship they finally stop hiding.
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16 Comments
@CheeselesCrust 1 day ago
It’s awesome when the narrator yells the responses to a sincere question or situation
@ZekeIsMe 8 months ago
With family like that, I would have left town. I dont need that level of judgement and control over my personal decisions and life.
@xRe-Destrox 8 months ago (edited)
1:55.. listening to him describe Miranda... I think I know why Janet left without saying a word.. she clearly never stood a chance.. dude clearly in love with Miranda 😂😂😂😂
@TheMightyClark 8 months ago
How was he dating Janet for a lengthy amount of time and he never introduced her to his best friend or vice versa?
@Mathewfriescountdown 8 months ago (edited)
be me, 29
completely average normal office drone
work at generic mid-level data processing firm in a beige cubicle
my entire personality is "likes pizza and quiet weekends"
dating Vanessa, 28, prenatal nurse
she's sweet, smart, loves her job, thinks my stories about spreadsheet errors are "cute"
life is a flatline on a heart monitor
in permanent nothing-ever-happens mode
wake up, commute, work, microwave dinner, watch streams, sleep
rinse, repeat
the most exciting thing that happens is the printer jams
coworker, Dave from Accounting, is... different
Dave has three wives
not like, secretly, or illegally across state lines
they're all in some modern polycule thing, all live together in a big house
they all came to the company picnic
they were all wearing matching "Dave's Wife" t-shirts they made as a joke
it was terrifying
Dave has, like, seven kids already, with more on the way
the office ladies ooo and aaaah over his phone full of baby pictures
"Oh Dave, little Braydlynn is so precious!"
"Look at K'ayl8b's little onesie!"
I nod and smile like a good drone
silently, I'm... jealous?
not of the three wives, that seems like a logistical nightmare
but of the... fullness
his life is a messy, loud, chaotic symphony
mine is a single, sustained note from a cheap keyboard
but I'm happy with my one nurse girlfriend
our life is quiet, predictable, safe
it's enough
probably
one Tuesday night, nothing special
ate lasagna, watched a documentary about deep-sea fish, went to bed
Vanessa curled into my back, her breathing soft and even
sleep
wake up sometime in the pre-dawn grey
need to pee
roll over to get out of bed
find Vanessa curled up facing me, sound asleep
think nothing of it, gently extricate myself
finish in bathroom, stumble back to bed in the dark
roll over onto my other side to go back to sleep
find Vanessa curled up against my back
...
brain buffer loading.........
mind.exe cannot be found
404 error: logical processor not responding
just saw Vanessa on the other side
felt her there
this is also Vanessa
same hair smell, same sleepy sigh, same everything
two sets of breathing
conclusion: dreaming
yes. having a weird dream.
decide to do the only thing my normy brain can think of
roll back over, close eyes, force myself back to sleep
if you ignore the glitch, it will fix itself
corporate problem-solving applied to reality
sunlight streams in
awaken to the sound of two simultaneous, sleepy stretches
hmmmmmmrrrrnggh
in stereo
open one eye
see Vanessa on my left, rubbing her eyes
open other eye
see Vanessa on my right, sitting up and yawning
they lock eyes over my chest
both faces perform identical sequences: confusion, recognition, disbelief, horror
double trouble ensues
Vanessa-on-left: "...who?"
Vanessa-on-right: "...whaaa?"
Vanessa-on-left: "What the hell are you doing in bed with my boyfriend?"
Vanessa-on-right, voice rising an octave: "My boyfriend. Who are you?"
Vanessa-on-left: "I'm Vanessa! You imposter!"
Vanessa-on-right, grabbing my pillow as a shield: "No, I'm Vanessa! You're the fake!"
they look identical
sound identical
both wearing the same oversized "St. Mary's Hospital 5k 2018" t-shirt she stole from me
Anon.exe finally reboots
proceed to sigh from the very core of my being
a sigh in three dimensions
sit up slowly
"Okay. Stop. Maybe... you're both Vanessa."
both heads snap towards me, wearing the same outraged expression
shrug
in my defense, I tried
Vanessa-on-left points a shaking finger at Vanessa-on-right.
"Okay. If you're me. Who was our last patient yesterday before shift change?"
Vanessa-on-right scoffs.
"The confused poly couple sharing a surrogate. The Smith-Johannsen-Wu cluster. They were asking about prenatal paternity testing logistics... again."
Vanessa-on-left blinks. "Yeah. And they remind me of our regulars. You know, the ones with–"
Both Vanessas speak in perfect unison, their voices merging into one eerie chorus:
"–three wives and twenty babies."
they stare at each other
the color drains from both their faces
life, as I knew it, is officially over
the next few weeks are a blur of pure, unadulterated chaos
somehow convince them not to call the police, a priest, or a theoretical physicist
we have to be logical
we have to be practical
we have to figure out how two of the same person can share one life, one job, one apartment, one me
we become project managers of a cosmic snafu
whiteboard gets purchased
color-coded diagrams are made
charts detailing schedules, clothing rotations, personality consistency checks
Vanessa Prime (Vanessa 1) goes to work on Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Vanessa Duplicate (Vanessa 2) stays home, does chores, deep dives internet forums for "spontaneous human duplication"
they swap on alternating days
they have to share memories via intense debriefs every evening
"What did Dr. Evans say about the new ultrasound gel?"
"Who did you have lunch with?"
"Did you remember to call my mom back?"
we work out a convenient lie: Vanessa was adopted, separated at birth, and has just reunited with her long-lost twin sister, also named Vanessa by a wild coincidence
people mostly buy it, because the alternative is insane
Dave from Accounting just nods sagely and says, "Cool. More the merrier."
slowly, a new routine forms
it's not normal, but it becomes our not-normal
two Vanessas
double the conversations about uterine prolapse over dinner
twice the warmth on the couch
twice the arguments about whose turn it is to do the dishes
my flatline life is now a terrifying, beautiful, impossibly complex EKG readout
I am perpetually tired, confused, and in way over my head
I am also, secretly, not unhappy
the silence is gone
one Saturday morning
making coffee in the kitchen, enjoying the quiet
both Vanessas walk in, looking pale
they stand side-by-side, a mirror image of grim resolve
Vanessa 1: "Anon."
Vanessa 2: "We need to talk."
they look at each other, nod
in perfect, horrifying stereo, both hands go to their identical stomachs
both faces twist in identical expressions of morning sickness and accusation
Vanessa 1 & 2, in unison: "Hreurrrrrrrrrrrgh..."
they both take a deep, shaky breath
Vanessa 1: "You..."
Vanessa 2: "...need to take responsibility for this."
my brain tries to process the math
one me
two Vanessas
two positive tests
the quiet, beige future I once imagined dissolves like mist
in its place, a vision forms
a chaotic, noisy, beautiful vision
of diagrams
of charts
of two cribs
of explaining this to Dave from Accounting
of his three wives nodding in understanding
I look at the two furious, identical, pregnant faces of the woman I love
my coffee grows cold
the flatline is gone forever
mfw
completely average normal office drone
work at generic mid-level data processing firm in a beige cubicle
my entire personality is "likes pizza and quiet weekends"
dating Vanessa, 28, prenatal nurse
she's sweet, smart, loves her job, thinks my stories about spreadsheet errors are "cute"
life is a flatline on a heart monitor
in permanent nothing-ever-happens mode
wake up, commute, work, microwave dinner, watch streams, sleep
rinse, repeat
the most exciting thing that happens is the printer jams
coworker, Dave from Accounting, is... different
Dave has three wives
not like, secretly, or illegally across state lines
they're all in some modern polycule thing, all live together in a big house
they all came to the company picnic
they were all wearing matching "Dave's Wife" t-shirts they made as a joke
it was terrifying
Dave has, like, seven kids already, with more on the way
the office ladies ooo and aaaah over his phone full of baby pictures
"Oh Dave, little Braydlynn is so precious!"
"Look at K'ayl8b's little onesie!"
I nod and smile like a good drone
silently, I'm... jealous?
not of the three wives, that seems like a logistical nightmare
but of the... fullness
his life is a messy, loud, chaotic symphony
mine is a single, sustained note from a cheap keyboard
but I'm happy with my one nurse girlfriend
our life is quiet, predictable, safe
it's enough
probably
one Tuesday night, nothing special
ate lasagna, watched a documentary about deep-sea fish, went to bed
Vanessa curled into my back, her breathing soft and even
sleep
wake up sometime in the pre-dawn grey
need to pee
roll over to get out of bed
find Vanessa curled up facing me, sound asleep
think nothing of it, gently extricate myself
finish in bathroom, stumble back to bed in the dark
roll over onto my other side to go back to sleep
find Vanessa curled up against my back
...
brain buffer loading.........
mind.exe cannot be found
404 error: logical processor not responding
just saw Vanessa on the other side
felt her there
this is also Vanessa
same hair smell, same sleepy sigh, same everything
two sets of breathing
conclusion: dreaming
yes. having a weird dream.
decide to do the only thing my normy brain can think of
roll back over, close eyes, force myself back to sleep
if you ignore the glitch, it will fix itself
corporate problem-solving applied to reality
sunlight streams in
awaken to the sound of two simultaneous, sleepy stretches
hmmmmmmrrrrnggh
in stereo
open one eye
see Vanessa on my left, rubbing her eyes
open other eye
see Vanessa on my right, sitting up and yawning
they lock eyes over my chest
both faces perform identical sequences: confusion, recognition, disbelief, horror
double trouble ensues
Vanessa-on-left: "...who?"
Vanessa-on-right: "...whaaa?"
Vanessa-on-left: "What the hell are you doing in bed with my boyfriend?"
Vanessa-on-right, voice rising an octave: "My boyfriend. Who are you?"
Vanessa-on-left: "I'm Vanessa! You imposter!"
Vanessa-on-right, grabbing my pillow as a shield: "No, I'm Vanessa! You're the fake!"
they look identical
sound identical
both wearing the same oversized "St. Mary's Hospital 5k 2018" t-shirt she stole from me
Anon.exe finally reboots
proceed to sigh from the very core of my being
a sigh in three dimensions
sit up slowly
"Okay. Stop. Maybe... you're both Vanessa."
both heads snap towards me, wearing the same outraged expression
shrug
in my defense, I tried
Vanessa-on-left points a shaking finger at Vanessa-on-right.
"Okay. If you're me. Who was our last patient yesterday before shift change?"
Vanessa-on-right scoffs.
"The confused poly couple sharing a surrogate. The Smith-Johannsen-Wu cluster. They were asking about prenatal paternity testing logistics... again."
Vanessa-on-left blinks. "Yeah. And they remind me of our regulars. You know, the ones with–"
Both Vanessas speak in perfect unison, their voices merging into one eerie chorus:
"–three wives and twenty babies."
they stare at each other
the color drains from both their faces
life, as I knew it, is officially over
the next few weeks are a blur of pure, unadulterated chaos
somehow convince them not to call the police, a priest, or a theoretical physicist
we have to be logical
we have to be practical
we have to figure out how two of the same person can share one life, one job, one apartment, one me
we become project managers of a cosmic snafu
whiteboard gets purchased
color-coded diagrams are made
charts detailing schedules, clothing rotations, personality consistency checks
Vanessa Prime (Vanessa 1) goes to work on Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Vanessa Duplicate (Vanessa 2) stays home, does chores, deep dives internet forums for "spontaneous human duplication"
they swap on alternating days
they have to share memories via intense debriefs every evening
"What did Dr. Evans say about the new ultrasound gel?"
"Who did you have lunch with?"
"Did you remember to call my mom back?"
we work out a convenient lie: Vanessa was adopted, separated at birth, and has just reunited with her long-lost twin sister, also named Vanessa by a wild coincidence
people mostly buy it, because the alternative is insane
Dave from Accounting just nods sagely and says, "Cool. More the merrier."
slowly, a new routine forms
it's not normal, but it becomes our not-normal
two Vanessas
double the conversations about uterine prolapse over dinner
twice the warmth on the couch
twice the arguments about whose turn it is to do the dishes
my flatline life is now a terrifying, beautiful, impossibly complex EKG readout
I am perpetually tired, confused, and in way over my head
I am also, secretly, not unhappy
the silence is gone
one Saturday morning
making coffee in the kitchen, enjoying the quiet
both Vanessas walk in, looking pale
they stand side-by-side, a mirror image of grim resolve
Vanessa 1: "Anon."
Vanessa 2: "We need to talk."
they look at each other, nod
in perfect, horrifying stereo, both hands go to their identical stomachs
both faces twist in identical expressions of morning sickness and accusation
Vanessa 1 & 2, in unison: "Hreurrrrrrrrrrrgh..."
they both take a deep, shaky breath
Vanessa 1: "You..."
Vanessa 2: "...need to take responsibility for this."
my brain tries to process the math
one me
two Vanessas
two positive tests
the quiet, beige future I once imagined dissolves like mist
in its place, a vision forms
a chaotic, noisy, beautiful vision
of diagrams
of charts
of two cribs
of explaining this to Dave from Accounting
of his three wives nodding in understanding
I look at the two furious, identical, pregnant faces of the woman I love
my coffee grows cold
the flatline is gone forever
mfw
@Mathewfriescountdown 8 months ago
be me, 29
completely average normal office drone
work at generic mid-level data processing firm in a beige cubicle
my entire personality is "likes pizza and quiet weekends"
dating Vanessa, 28, prenatal nurse
she's sweet, smart, loves her job, thinks my stories about spreadsheet errors are "cute"
life is a flatline on a heart monitor
in permanent nothing-ever-happens mode
wake up, commute, work, microwave dinner, watch streams, sleep
rinse, repeat
the most exciting thing that happens is the printer jams
coworker, Dave from Accounting, is... different
Dave has three wives
not like, secretly, or illegally across state lines
they're all in some modern polycule thing, all live together in a big house
they all came to the company picnic
they were all wearing matching "Dave's Wife" t-shirts they made as a joke
it was terrifying
Dave has, like, seven kids already, with more on the way
the office ladies ooo and aaaah over his phone full of baby pictures
"Oh Dave, little Braydlynn is so precious!"
"Look at K'ayl8b's little onesie!"
I nod and smile like a good drone
silently, I'm... jealous?
not of the three wives, that seems like a logistical nightmare
but of the... fullness
his life is a messy, loud, chaotic symphony
mine is a single, sustained note from a cheap keyboard
but I'm happy with my one nurse girlfriend
our life is quiet, predictable, safe
it's enough
probably
one Tuesday night, nothing special
ate lasagna, watched a documentary about deep-sea fish, went to bed
Vanessa curled into my back, her breathing soft and even
sleep
wake up sometime in the pre-dawn grey
need to pee
roll over to get out of bed
find Vanessa curled up facing me, sound asleep
think nothing of it, gently extricate myself
finish in bathroom, stumble back to bed in the dark
roll over onto my other side to go back to sleep
find Vanessa curled up against my back
...
brain buffer loading.........
mind.exe cannot be found
404 error: logical processor not responding
just saw Vanessa on the other side
felt her there
this is also Vanessa
same hair smell, same sleepy sigh, same everything
two sets of breathing
conclusion: dreaming
yes. having a weird dream.
decide to do the only thing my normy brain can think of
roll back over, close eyes, force myself back to sleep
if you ignore the glitch, it will fix itself
corporate problem-solving applied to reality
sunlight streams in
awaken to the sound of two simultaneous, sleepy stretches
hmmmmmmrrrrnggh
in stereo
open one eye
see Vanessa on my left, rubbing her eyes
open other eye
see Vanessa on my right, sitting up and yawning
they lock eyes over my chest
both faces perform identical sequences: confusion, recognition, disbelief, horror
double trouble ensues
Vanessa-on-left: "...who?"
Vanessa-on-right: "...whaaa?"
Vanessa-on-left: "What the hell are you doing in bed with my boyfriend?"
Vanessa-on-right, voice rising an octave: "My boyfriend. Who are you?"
Vanessa-on-left: "I'm Vanessa! You imposter!"
Vanessa-on-right, grabbing my pillow as a shield: "No, I'm Vanessa! You're the fake!"
they look identical
sound identical
both wearing the same oversized "St. Mary's Hospital 5k 2018" t-shirt she stole from me
Anon.exe finally reboots
proceed to sigh from the very core of my being
a sigh in three dimensions
sit up slowly
"Okay. Stop. Maybe... you're both Vanessa."
both heads snap towards me, wearing the same outraged expression
shrug
in my defense, I tried
Vanessa-on-left points a shaking finger at Vanessa-on-right.
"Okay. If you're me. Who was our last patient yesterday before shift change?"
Vanessa-on-right scoffs.
"The confused poly couple sharing a surrogate. The Smith-Johannsen-Wu cluster. They were asking about prenatal paternity testing logistics... again."
Vanessa-on-left blinks. "Yeah. And they remind me of our regulars. You know, the ones with–"
Both Vanessas speak in perfect unison, their voices merging into one eerie chorus:
"–three wives and twenty babies."
they stare at each other
the color drains from both their faces
life, as I knew it, is officially over
the next few weeks are a blur of pure, unadulterated chaos
somehow convince them not to call the police, a priest, or a theoretical physicist
we have to be logical
we have to be practical
we have to figure out how two of the same person can share one life, one job, one apartment, one me
we become project managers of a cosmic snafu
whiteboard gets purchased
color-coded diagrams are made
charts detailing schedules, clothing rotations, personality consistency checks
Vanessa Prime (Vanessa 1) goes to work on Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Vanessa Duplicate (Vanessa 2) stays home, does chores, deep dives internet forums for "spontaneous human duplication"
they swap on alternating days
they have to share memories via intense debriefs every evening
"What did Dr. Evans say about the new ultrasound gel?"
"Who did you have lunch with?"
"Did you remember to call my mom back?"
we work out a convenient lie: Vanessa was adopted, separated at birth, and has just reunited with her long-lost twin sister, also named Vanessa by a wild coincidence
people mostly buy it, because the alternative is insane
Dave from Accounting just nods sagely and says, "Cool. More the merrier."
slowly, a new routine forms
it's not normal, but it becomes our not-normal
two Vanessas
double the conversations about uterine prolapse over dinner
twice the warmth on the couch
twice the arguments about whose turn it is to do the dishes
my flatline life is now a terrifying, beautiful, impossibly complex EKG readout
I am perpetually tired, confused, and in way over my head
I am also, secretly, not unhappy
the silence is gone
one Saturday morning
making coffee in the kitchen, enjoying the quiet
both Vanessas walk in, looking pale
they stand side-by-side, a mirror image of grim resolve
Vanessa 1: "Anon."
Vanessa 2: "We need to talk."
they look at each other, nod
in perfect, horrifying stereo, both hands go to their identical stomachs
both faces twist in identical expressions of morning sickness and accusation
Vanessa 1 & 2, in unison: "Hreurrrrrrrrrrrgh..."
they both take a deep, shaky breath
Vanessa 1: "You..."
Vanessa 2: "...need to take responsibility for this."
my brain tries to process the math
one me
two Vanessas
two positive tests
the quiet, beige future I once imagined dissolves like mist
in its place, a vision forms
a chaotic, noisy, beautiful vision
of diagrams
of charts
of two cribs
of explaining this to Dave from Accounting
of his three wives nodding in understanding
I look at the two furious, identical, pregnant faces of the woman I love
my coffee grows cold
the flatline is gone forever
mfw
completely average normal office drone
work at generic mid-level data processing firm in a beige cubicle
my entire personality is "likes pizza and quiet weekends"
dating Vanessa, 28, prenatal nurse
she's sweet, smart, loves her job, thinks my stories about spreadsheet errors are "cute"
life is a flatline on a heart monitor
in permanent nothing-ever-happens mode
wake up, commute, work, microwave dinner, watch streams, sleep
rinse, repeat
the most exciting thing that happens is the printer jams
coworker, Dave from Accounting, is... different
Dave has three wives
not like, secretly, or illegally across state lines
they're all in some modern polycule thing, all live together in a big house
they all came to the company picnic
they were all wearing matching "Dave's Wife" t-shirts they made as a joke
it was terrifying
Dave has, like, seven kids already, with more on the way
the office ladies ooo and aaaah over his phone full of baby pictures
"Oh Dave, little Braydlynn is so precious!"
"Look at K'ayl8b's little onesie!"
I nod and smile like a good drone
silently, I'm... jealous?
not of the three wives, that seems like a logistical nightmare
but of the... fullness
his life is a messy, loud, chaotic symphony
mine is a single, sustained note from a cheap keyboard
but I'm happy with my one nurse girlfriend
our life is quiet, predictable, safe
it's enough
probably
one Tuesday night, nothing special
ate lasagna, watched a documentary about deep-sea fish, went to bed
Vanessa curled into my back, her breathing soft and even
sleep
wake up sometime in the pre-dawn grey
need to pee
roll over to get out of bed
find Vanessa curled up facing me, sound asleep
think nothing of it, gently extricate myself
finish in bathroom, stumble back to bed in the dark
roll over onto my other side to go back to sleep
find Vanessa curled up against my back
...
brain buffer loading.........
mind.exe cannot be found
404 error: logical processor not responding
just saw Vanessa on the other side
felt her there
this is also Vanessa
same hair smell, same sleepy sigh, same everything
two sets of breathing
conclusion: dreaming
yes. having a weird dream.
decide to do the only thing my normy brain can think of
roll back over, close eyes, force myself back to sleep
if you ignore the glitch, it will fix itself
corporate problem-solving applied to reality
sunlight streams in
awaken to the sound of two simultaneous, sleepy stretches
hmmmmmmrrrrnggh
in stereo
open one eye
see Vanessa on my left, rubbing her eyes
open other eye
see Vanessa on my right, sitting up and yawning
they lock eyes over my chest
both faces perform identical sequences: confusion, recognition, disbelief, horror
double trouble ensues
Vanessa-on-left: "...who?"
Vanessa-on-right: "...whaaa?"
Vanessa-on-left: "What the hell are you doing in bed with my boyfriend?"
Vanessa-on-right, voice rising an octave: "My boyfriend. Who are you?"
Vanessa-on-left: "I'm Vanessa! You imposter!"
Vanessa-on-right, grabbing my pillow as a shield: "No, I'm Vanessa! You're the fake!"
they look identical
sound identical
both wearing the same oversized "St. Mary's Hospital 5k 2018" t-shirt she stole from me
Anon.exe finally reboots
proceed to sigh from the very core of my being
a sigh in three dimensions
sit up slowly
"Okay. Stop. Maybe... you're both Vanessa."
both heads snap towards me, wearing the same outraged expression
shrug
in my defense, I tried
Vanessa-on-left points a shaking finger at Vanessa-on-right.
"Okay. If you're me. Who was our last patient yesterday before shift change?"
Vanessa-on-right scoffs.
"The confused poly couple sharing a surrogate. The Smith-Johannsen-Wu cluster. They were asking about prenatal paternity testing logistics... again."
Vanessa-on-left blinks. "Yeah. And they remind me of our regulars. You know, the ones with–"
Both Vanessas speak in perfect unison, their voices merging into one eerie chorus:
"–three wives and twenty babies."
they stare at each other
the color drains from both their faces
life, as I knew it, is officially over
the next few weeks are a blur of pure, unadulterated chaos
somehow convince them not to call the police, a priest, or a theoretical physicist
we have to be logical
we have to be practical
we have to figure out how two of the same person can share one life, one job, one apartment, one me
we become project managers of a cosmic snafu
whiteboard gets purchased
color-coded diagrams are made
charts detailing schedules, clothing rotations, personality consistency checks
Vanessa Prime (Vanessa 1) goes to work on Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Vanessa Duplicate (Vanessa 2) stays home, does chores, deep dives internet forums for "spontaneous human duplication"
they swap on alternating days
they have to share memories via intense debriefs every evening
"What did Dr. Evans say about the new ultrasound gel?"
"Who did you have lunch with?"
"Did you remember to call my mom back?"
we work out a convenient lie: Vanessa was adopted, separated at birth, and has just reunited with her long-lost twin sister, also named Vanessa by a wild coincidence
people mostly buy it, because the alternative is insane
Dave from Accounting just nods sagely and says, "Cool. More the merrier."
slowly, a new routine forms
it's not normal, but it becomes our not-normal
two Vanessas
double the conversations about uterine prolapse over dinner
twice the warmth on the couch
twice the arguments about whose turn it is to do the dishes
my flatline life is now a terrifying, beautiful, impossibly complex EKG readout
I am perpetually tired, confused, and in way over my head
I am also, secretly, not unhappy
the silence is gone
one Saturday morning
making coffee in the kitchen, enjoying the quiet
both Vanessas walk in, looking pale
they stand side-by-side, a mirror image of grim resolve
Vanessa 1: "Anon."
Vanessa 2: "We need to talk."
they look at each other, nod
in perfect, horrifying stereo, both hands go to their identical stomachs
both faces twist in identical expressions of morning sickness and accusation
Vanessa 1 & 2, in unison: "Hreurrrrrrrrrrrgh..."
they both take a deep, shaky breath
Vanessa 1: "You..."
Vanessa 2: "...need to take responsibility for this."
my brain tries to process the math
one me
two Vanessas
two positive tests
the quiet, beige future I once imagined dissolves like mist
in its place, a vision forms
a chaotic, noisy, beautiful vision
of diagrams
of charts
of two cribs
of explaining this to Dave from Accounting
of his three wives nodding in understanding
I look at the two furious, identical, pregnant faces of the woman I love
my coffee grows cold
the flatline is gone forever
mfw
“No, We’re Just Friends” | 4Chan Greentext Stories
A4CHAN
31,860 views
#4chan #texttospeech #redditstories
📗 New uploads DAILY!
The script and all text in this video are my intellectual property.
Original story written by me (A4CHAN).
All characters and events are fictional. The content is created for entertainment purposes only.
In this video, Anon panics when his mom demands he “bring his girlfriend” to a big family dinner—right after a breakup—so he recruits his best friend Miranda to fake-date him with strict rules and a believable backstory. The act works too well: Miranda naturally wins the family, shuts down the ex Janet when she resurfaces, and the “just friends” lie slowly collapses into a real relationship they finally stop hiding.
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I'd like to know ages and sex of the consumers of this content
I'm 56 and male