Warning: Exaggerated accents and crack
"Hi mah nems Zen Milk." Zayn Malik, soon to be hottest member of One Direction.
"What the bloody hell was that? I couldn’t understand a single word you said." Simon Cowell, certified asshole and X-Factor judge.
"I sed mah nem is Zen." He tried again.
Simon sighed and motioned for Zayn to go on. “Well let’s hope your accent doesn’t impair your ability to sing.”
Zayn opened his mouth, ready to let out the first note, but was RUDELY interrupted by the sound of Simon coughing.
"Aren’t you going to start?" Simon did that wide eye thing he always does.
"I vas but-"
"Then hurry I don’t have all day here." Simon glared a hole into Zayn’s aching soul. Zayn shivered with antici
Zayn shuffled a little before opening his cute little mouth again. Not that Simon was paying any attention that. The next notes flowed beautifully out of his mouth, like an a thousand angels farting in unison.
Simon was on the verge of tearing up. In all his years of being a gross sweaty judge he had never heard anything quite like this. He wanted to stand up and applaud but then he might look foolish. “That was…” Zayn looked hopeful. “Pure shit.” Simon spat.
The other judges and audience members looked astounded. Zayn was by far the greatest talent to ever cross that stage how could this could hearted man say such a thing?
Zayn blinked. “Oh.” The next thing he knew he was rushing off the stage, flailing like Ezra from Food Boy Adventures. He was humiliated in front of everyone.
Simon was shoved by one of the judges. “You *bleep* I swear to *bleep* if you don’t apologize to that boy I will *bleep* you until you *bleep bleep*” The shouting continued but it all sounded muffled to Simon’s ears. She was right. How could he say such a thing to that perfect little twink? He knew what had to be done. He hurried off to find Zayn, after a bit of searching he found the delicate creature curled up on the ground.
Zayn’s was weeping, tears shaped like penises fell from his eyes. He was rocking himself gently until he heard the sound of footsteps. He looked up and met eyes with that horrendous excuse for a human bean. “Vhat do ya vant?” He asked in a small angry baby bird voice.
"I want your forgiveness… I want your love."
"Vhat?" Zayn was distraught but now also confused and a bit concerned.
"I said," Simon took a deep breath in. "I want your love. I didn’t mean those things I said. I was being foolish. Trying to keep my rep when I really wanted to run up there and kiss you. You were incredible. The best I’ve ever heard."
Zayn gaped at the older, much older man. “Vhat teh fawk?”
Simons once optimistic, dreamy face faltered. “I… Y-you…” He never stuttered. It was completely out of character.
"Yar duscustin old men. I cam here fo teh munay. I vant to beh fem0us nawt kiss yar nawsty sweety white arse."
Simon was fuming. There was no way he just got dissed by his 1Dreamboy. “YOU WILL REGRET THOSE WORDS ZAYN (HOT SHIT) MALIK!” He had to choice but to fight back right then. He was devastated and heart broken. He couldn’t stay in the room with Zayn any longer so he ran back out to the judges table muttering to himself. “I will get you one day, Zayn Malik.”