(A/N: So I noticed that nobody has shipped Larfen yet. I also noticed that they said something about "the eroticism of humanised household appliances" in the Discord way back in 2018. Then I blacked out, and when I came to, this was written.)

Larfen refreshed the page to the new PPC Board, taking a breath to calm their nerves before scrolling down. Surely someone had done it by now, right? This was the PPC, there were loads of funny people about, all typing funny things on their funny keyboards and going about their funny lives...

Alas, it was not to be. Somehow, none had dared to ship them; the humor requirement was too daunting. Cowards. It was the problem with being a postmodernist genius; the humor of others could never hope to measure up. The small voice of a narrator hoping to move the plot along sounded in Larfen's head, telling them that this could be a freeing moment if they just accepted fate and stopped tying themselves to a Web page in the vain hope of satirical romance.

Larfen seized upon this newfound freedom and used it to collapse with gusto upon their keyboard, sobbing in despair. Dadaist polyhedrons of their tears clinked against the floor. Larfen's anguish, however, was rendered meaningless by the pointed absence of a sufficiently pretentious literary scholar. This absence only sent Larfen spiraling further into the depths of despair, to the point that they hardly noticed the heavy footsteps of their roommate.

"What's wrong, Larfen?" the fridge asked, sauntering over to its greatest friend in the world.

"N-no one wants t-t-to ship me," Larfen sobbed, wiping away their tears.

"That's why I'm here," the fridge whispered, bending down on one knee and throwing a well-insulated arm around the distraught figure. Larfen looked up, and the surge of warm love that shot through the fridge as its eyes met with their was so great that its compressor turned on.

"You mean... You'll be my shipfest partner?" Larfen asked. What they saw in the fridge's eyes told them all they needed to know, and they leapt out of their chair to embrace the appliance. A soft bing! indicated to any who would listen that the Turbo Cool feature had been activated. "I love you, fridge-senpai."

The fridge remained unperturbed by the out-of-place honorific (which sounded even stranger in an Australian accent) and silently carried Larfen out of the room. There were cuddles to be had.