What Have I Gotten My Self Into ???

After smoking countless joints with my new buddy, the skeleton, I heard him speak again.

"I have a gift for you as thanks for keeping me company," he said.

"What gift?" I asked, intrigued.

But before I could get an answer, the scenery started to change, and I fell unconscious.

When I woke up, I found myself in a dump that looked worse than a garbage dump. Rotten furniture and wood were splattered everywhere. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Well, nothing is going to get done by sitting here," I said, getting up from the bed.

As I explored the place, I realized everything seemed taller. Then I focused on my body, shocked to see all my muscles had vanished.

"Oh no, my sweet abs!" I exclaimed.

But there was no time to mourn my lost muscles. I needed to find out what had happened to me. As I searched for a mirror, I noticed the broken glass on the floor could do the trick.

Finally, I could see my handsome face or parts of it. My eyes looked good, though. They were blue like the sky. Next was the hair, which was a total mess.

"Oh, I have blond and messy hair. It's a mix between a super Saiyan and a porcupine. The porcupine is the dominant one, though," I said, trying to make light of the situation.

As I inspected my face further, I was surprised to see I had scars resembling whiskers.

"WTF? How did I end up with these scars?" I lamented.

My pale skin almost reflected the sun's rays, and I couldn't help but think I looked like a vampire.

"Well, that's the next thing on my list of things to change, along with the hair and whiskers," I muttered.

I surveyed my surroundings, taking in the orange jumpsuit I was stuck in.

"Blond hair, blue eyes, whisker, and an orange jumpsuit or what's left of it," I muttered with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yeah, I am a real fashion icon."

But my humor was short-lived as I realized the gravity of the situation.

"I have a bad feeling about all this. If my guess is on point, then fuck. I am in for one hell of a ride..."

As I peeked through the broken window, my eyes widened in surprise. The village outside looked strikingly similar to Konoha from Naruto. It was the final piece of the puzzle.

It dawned on me that I had been transported to the Narutoverse as Naruto himself. And to make matters worse, I had never even seen a single episode of Naruto.

"Damn, I should have watched them," I groaned in frustration.

I couldn't help but curse my buddy Skeleton for dropping me off in this world without any preparation, not even a system.

"He really screwed me over big time," I muttered.

•••

As I walked through the disaster zone of Naruto's apartment, I couldn't help but feel like I had stepped into a horror movie. The broken windows and door, the rats and cockroaches scurrying around, and the putrid smell of sewage made my stomach turn.

But my sense of humor kicked in as I looked around at the dilapidated walls.

"Wow," I muttered, "this place should be featured in a garbage dump catalog."

I tried to avoid the rat traps scattered on the floor as I walked through the debris. The chair with the broken leg seemed to mock me, so I added to the chaos and broke the other three legs.

"That's better," I thought, grinning at my handiwork.

As I surveyed the damage, my eyes landed on the torn and stained wallpaper. Amid the mess, I could make out some scribbled words in what appeared to be the worst handwriting I had ever seen.

My curiosity was piqued, and I began to decipher the message. "Ah, the sacred knowledge of the Konoha; maybe I'll gain divinity after reading this masterpiece," I chuckled.

The terms written on the wall ranged from "monster" to "devil" to "nine-tailed fucker." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the absurdity of it all.

"Well, this is certainly a welcoming atmosphere," I muttered sarcastically.

After that, surprises keep on coming.

As I surveyed the room, I saw a curious sight - a refrigerator that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. It was sleek and high-tech, and to my surprise, it didn't even have a door.

"Well, isn't that fancy?" I muttered to myself, eyeing the contraption skeptically.

I couldn't help but gag at the overwhelming stench of rotten food. The air was thick with it, and I wondered just how long it had been kept there.

As I moved closer to the fridge, the smell only grew stronger. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, wondering what could produce such a foul odor. I had half a mind to investigate, but the mere thought of the putrid contents inside made my stomach churn.

Just then, I heard a voice behind me. I spun around, startled, and was met with the sight of a muscle-bound rat standing on its hind legs.

"Hey boss, what's up?" it said in a surprisingly human-like voice.

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. "Uh, not much," I replied, eyeing the rat man warily. "Who...who are you?"

The rat-man grinned, revealing a set of sharp teeth.

"The name's Mark Zuckerberg," he said, holding a furry hand for me to shake.

I gaped at him in disbelief.

"Mark Zuckerberg? You don't look anything like him!"

The rat-man shrugged. "Eh, it's a common name in the rat community," he laughed.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his response. "Fair enough," I said, still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

"So, what are you doing here?"

"I live here, boss," Mark replied, gesturing to the dilapidated apartment around us.

I raised an eyebrow. "You live here? In this dump?"

Mark shrugged again. "Hey, it's home. And at least I've got this fancy fridge to keep my food fresh," he said, gesturing to the high-tech contraption beside us.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his comment. "Fresh, huh? You mean, fresh as in 'rotten beyond belief'?"

Mark chuckled. "Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. It's an acquired taste."

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "I think I'll pass on that one."

•••

After that, Mark left the room, signaling me to follow him. Curiosity getting the better of me, I decided to see where he was taking me. Little did I know I was about to stumble upon a family of talking rats living in my living room.

As I stood there, trying to process what I saw, I couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement wash over me as I was introduced to some of the most famous personalities in history in rat form.

Elon Musk, Steve Jobs, Barack Obama, Trump, Arnold, and even the legendary Stuart Little himself were there. They were all engaged in a fierce arm-wrestling competition, with some betting on the side.

Good thing I wasn't scared of these guys. They are a bit cute. I could use them like The Minions from the movie Despicable Me.

As I grinned at the thought, I suddenly heard a mechanical sound in my mind.

[Loyal Minions Acquired]

It seemed that I had a system, after all.

"Status," I said out loud, expecting a response.

But there was none.

"Inventory," I said again, a hint of impatience in my voice.

Still, there was no response.

"Come on, man, give me something," I grumbled, disappointed.

As I contemplated my current situation, I couldn't help but think I had gotten into quite a strange predicament. First, there was the smoking skeleton, and now I had talking rats in my living room. At least the skeleton had some weed with him, I thought with a smirk.