Sequel: My Intoxicated Romance ›
My Intoxication
Cookies!
-Pansie’s POV-
I was just sitting around, bored, and reading a book. Tragie was at therapy and Frank was driving her there. It was back to the way things used to be, just us three. I mean, I miss Gerard and Mikey, but I love our little threesome.
Tragik got home around 2:30 and she brought Frank. He squeed, ran over and jumped onto my bed. I groaned, I was actually getting into the book.
Frank looked at the cover and laughed, “They all die at the end”
I rolled my eyes, “Thanks, I wasn’t even halfway done”
I closed the book and sat up.
“How was therapy?” I asked Tragik as she flicked on the TV and lay beside me.
“Spectacular”
We kind of had this weird little group hug thing.
“Oh yeah, Mikey wanted to know if we wanted to go to the movies tonight and meet his friends Bob and Ray?”
I shrugged and Tragie asked if Gerard would be there.
“Prolly not, Gerard’s been a complete introvert since we stopped hanging out”
I felt bad for Tragie, because she loved Gerard and lost him.
“Hmm, lets make cookies!” I suggested.
“Being in the same room as you and a stove? Haha. That’s a deathwish!” Frank retorted.
“Cookies. sound. amazing” Tragik muttered, grabbing our hands and sprinting downstairs.
Okay, so we got out the things we would need. You know, your basic cookie ingredients… cookie mix, an egg, and butter.
“Toss me that egg, willya Frank?” I called. Frank, being a show off, turned around and threw it to me. Where did the egg end up? All over the kitchen wall, naturally. We died of laughter.
“This time can you toss like a normal person? Wait, don’t even…” I muttered, walking over and taking the egg from him. Frank + eggs = mess.
The flour was another problem. There Tragik was, mixing the egg and cookie powder together. Frank and I crept over to her and dumped some over her head.
“So it’s war!” She screeched, scooping some off of the floor and throwing it at us.
By the time we put the cookies in the oven, the kitchen looked like world war III just occurred there.
And the final product that we three morons produced? Dis-fucking-gusting. It was lumpy, and a weird brown color and had eggshells in it. No one was brave enough to taste it, so we just left it on the table.
I was just sitting around, bored, and reading a book. Tragie was at therapy and Frank was driving her there. It was back to the way things used to be, just us three. I mean, I miss Gerard and Mikey, but I love our little threesome.
Tragik got home around 2:30 and she brought Frank. He squeed, ran over and jumped onto my bed. I groaned, I was actually getting into the book.
Frank looked at the cover and laughed, “They all die at the end”
I rolled my eyes, “Thanks, I wasn’t even halfway done”
I closed the book and sat up.
“How was therapy?” I asked Tragik as she flicked on the TV and lay beside me.
“Spectacular”
We kind of had this weird little group hug thing.
“Oh yeah, Mikey wanted to know if we wanted to go to the movies tonight and meet his friends Bob and Ray?”
I shrugged and Tragie asked if Gerard would be there.
“Prolly not, Gerard’s been a complete introvert since we stopped hanging out”
I felt bad for Tragie, because she loved Gerard and lost him.
“Hmm, lets make cookies!” I suggested.
“Being in the same room as you and a stove? Haha. That’s a deathwish!” Frank retorted.
“Cookies. sound. amazing” Tragik muttered, grabbing our hands and sprinting downstairs.
Okay, so we got out the things we would need. You know, your basic cookie ingredients… cookie mix, an egg, and butter.
“Toss me that egg, willya Frank?” I called. Frank, being a show off, turned around and threw it to me. Where did the egg end up? All over the kitchen wall, naturally. We died of laughter.
“This time can you toss like a normal person? Wait, don’t even…” I muttered, walking over and taking the egg from him. Frank + eggs = mess.
The flour was another problem. There Tragik was, mixing the egg and cookie powder together. Frank and I crept over to her and dumped some over her head.
“So it’s war!” She screeched, scooping some off of the floor and throwing it at us.
By the time we put the cookies in the oven, the kitchen looked like world war III just occurred there.
And the final product that we three morons produced? Dis-fucking-gusting. It was lumpy, and a weird brown color and had eggshells in it. No one was brave enough to taste it, so we just left it on the table.