Status: Updates every four days.
We Way? Three Way!
Dobby
“DOBBY!” Excessively loud noises emitted from the living room. I heard Becca shuffle-slide down the hallway in her fuzzy socks. She must have been really cold to wear socks at her own will…I followed her. I like Dobby too…
“Is he wearing boxers at least?” She stood at the entrance of the living room.
“Yes, he’s fully clothed, actual-GET YOUR HAND AWAY FROM THAT BELT. It’s safe now.” The giant TV screen showed little Dobby jumping on little Harry’s bed. Then, brilliance struck me.
“ALL RESIDENCE OF THIS LOVELY BELLEVILLE HOME. LIVING ROOM. NOW.” I made Jill scream for me. Once a few more stray band members strolled in, including a very disheveled looking Mikey, I said,
“Twenty minutes. Harry Potter movie marathon whether you want to or not. I’m gonna go make noms. Got it?”
“Ai Senpai!” And that was the first sign that Gerard had been witnessing too many of my jujitsu classes.
“Ray, can we eat in the living room?”
“We can eat on the roof if you want. I don’t give a flying fuck. I really don’t.”
“Thanks Padre!”
“Natalie…make chicken pleasy please…” Becca was curled up in the fetal position in a corner of the living room. “Alright, will do.” I replied, chucking her some Extra Strength Advil.
An hour later we were witnessing an argument between a redhead and a frizzy-haired girl who can’t draw, chicken sandwiches stacked in front of us next to some fries that weren’t really fries.
“Wouldn’t it have been amazing if Ron were a flaming gay?”
“Wait…he’s not gay?” Clearly Frank hadn’t been following up on the series…Cue the death glares.
“Can you make more sandwiches, oh great chef-ette of the household?” Gee the suck-up.
“Never call me that again, as flattering as you think it may be. And I would, but there’s a Becca on my lap. And she looks comfy…”
“Please, for the love of all things Dobby. Do. Not. Move.” She looked into my eyes with this passionate expression of I’m-either-about-to-love-you-with-a-burning-passion-for-the-rest-of-eternity, or exactly the opposite. “Alright then. Mikey, make some popcorn please? You’re the only one who won’t set the microwave on fire.”
“Is he wearing boxers at least?” She stood at the entrance of the living room.
“Yes, he’s fully clothed, actual-GET YOUR HAND AWAY FROM THAT BELT. It’s safe now.” The giant TV screen showed little Dobby jumping on little Harry’s bed. Then, brilliance struck me.
“ALL RESIDENCE OF THIS LOVELY BELLEVILLE HOME. LIVING ROOM. NOW.” I made Jill scream for me. Once a few more stray band members strolled in, including a very disheveled looking Mikey, I said,
“Twenty minutes. Harry Potter movie marathon whether you want to or not. I’m gonna go make noms. Got it?”
“Ai Senpai!” And that was the first sign that Gerard had been witnessing too many of my jujitsu classes.
“Ray, can we eat in the living room?”
“We can eat on the roof if you want. I don’t give a flying fuck. I really don’t.”
“Thanks Padre!”
“Natalie…make chicken pleasy please…” Becca was curled up in the fetal position in a corner of the living room. “Alright, will do.” I replied, chucking her some Extra Strength Advil.
An hour later we were witnessing an argument between a redhead and a frizzy-haired girl who can’t draw, chicken sandwiches stacked in front of us next to some fries that weren’t really fries.
“Wouldn’t it have been amazing if Ron were a flaming gay?”
“Wait…he’s not gay?” Clearly Frank hadn’t been following up on the series…Cue the death glares.
“Can you make more sandwiches, oh great chef-ette of the household?” Gee the suck-up.
“Never call me that again, as flattering as you think it may be. And I would, but there’s a Becca on my lap. And she looks comfy…”
“Please, for the love of all things Dobby. Do. Not. Move.” She looked into my eyes with this passionate expression of I’m-either-about-to-love-you-with-a-burning-passion-for-the-rest-of-eternity, or exactly the opposite. “Alright then. Mikey, make some popcorn please? You’re the only one who won’t set the microwave on fire.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Worst. Day. Ever.