Let's Burn Our Dreams Into the Skyline
Gag. Twitch. Die.
“I wanna be the mom!” Pete screamed, stomping around the kitchen.
“Fuck you! I’m the mom!” Max screeched. The fight continued; no one won. What was the reason behind this fight? We got the strangest urge to play house.
“I wanna be the dog!” Gabe announced, “Bark. Bark. Growl. Roar.”
“I wanna be the goth child that everyone hates,” Alex frowned, “Where’s my goddamn eyeliner?!”
“Up Pete’s ass,” I growled.
“Well we will have to find a way to get it out of there…” Alex pointed out.
“Yes, I agree. Getting him to take his pants off while Max is in the room shouldn’t be that difficult.”
Insert one very pissed off Wentz, who wasn’t me, and a very dumbstruck girl with pink hair and a hello kitty jacket.
“I’ll kick your ass, Linnea, watch it.”
“Bring it.” I challenged.
“I’M READY FOR ITTT, COME ON BRING IT!” Gabe blurted randomly.
“How about we change the subject now,” Steph cut in.
“Fine, but I’m still the mom,” Pete announced, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Nu-uh!” Max shouted, “I have a vagina, I win.”
“Who says he doesn’t?” I muttered so no one could hear. I don’t have a deathwish.
“That’s true,” Ryland sighed, “I saw it last night.”
“You saw whose what last night?” Gabe yelled, stunned.
Max coughed awkwardly.
“Why can’t I be a transvestite mom?” Pete whined.
“Because do you want your child to be scarred for life?” I shuddered, picturing Pete in a skirt and stilettos. Gag. Twitch. Die.
Pete thought about this and retreated upstairs. We sat in silence for a few minutes until Pete came back downstairs. Not only was he wearing a mini-skirt, but it was fucking mine. His bangs were neatly pushed to the side with a bow clip.
Scarred for fucking life, yes?
“Fuck you! I’m the mom!” Max screeched. The fight continued; no one won. What was the reason behind this fight? We got the strangest urge to play house.
“I wanna be the dog!” Gabe announced, “Bark. Bark. Growl. Roar.”
“I wanna be the goth child that everyone hates,” Alex frowned, “Where’s my goddamn eyeliner?!”
“Up Pete’s ass,” I growled.
“Well we will have to find a way to get it out of there…” Alex pointed out.
“Yes, I agree. Getting him to take his pants off while Max is in the room shouldn’t be that difficult.”
Insert one very pissed off Wentz, who wasn’t me, and a very dumbstruck girl with pink hair and a hello kitty jacket.
“I’ll kick your ass, Linnea, watch it.”
“Bring it.” I challenged.
“I’M READY FOR ITTT, COME ON BRING IT!” Gabe blurted randomly.
“How about we change the subject now,” Steph cut in.
“Fine, but I’m still the mom,” Pete announced, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Nu-uh!” Max shouted, “I have a vagina, I win.”
“Who says he doesn’t?” I muttered so no one could hear. I don’t have a deathwish.
“That’s true,” Ryland sighed, “I saw it last night.”
“You saw whose what last night?” Gabe yelled, stunned.
Max coughed awkwardly.
“Why can’t I be a transvestite mom?” Pete whined.
“Because do you want your child to be scarred for life?” I shuddered, picturing Pete in a skirt and stilettos. Gag. Twitch. Die.
Pete thought about this and retreated upstairs. We sat in silence for a few minutes until Pete came back downstairs. Not only was he wearing a mini-skirt, but it was fucking mine. His bangs were neatly pushed to the side with a bow clip.
Scarred for fucking life, yes?