We Are So Screwed

“I’m so bored!” Blake groaned in agitation.

“You’ve got three cracked ribs, the fuck are you gonna do?” I said.

“I don’t know, go buy the shit and pierce my nose.”

“Seriously?”

“You still know how to do piercings and tattoos. Pierce my nose.”

“What? You want your septum done again?”

“No just a simple nose ring.”

“Fine, I have to go see Kendal anyways.” Kendal is my boss, she owns the Ink Splat! tattoo chain.

“You’re still an apprentice.”

I thought about it for a second, “Yeah.” I replied, getting up from my chair and walking upstairs. I went into my room and changed into my favorite red dress before going out to my first car, the 2007 Ford Mustang GT. ‘Ugh, I hated this thing when I bought it, and I still hate it now, I need my Ferrari back.’ I thought, getting into my car. I pulled into the parking lot of Ink Splat! and went inside.

“Hey Kendal, how many appointments today?” I asked.

“One, but it’s a full back tat so it’ll take a long ass time.”

“Full back? Damn, I remember getting my side done. It took two sessions, and eight hours. In retrospect, I was only 15 when I got it…” I trailed off and went over to her station to set it up, and since I’d already been through this apprenticeship; I knew exactly what to do and it took virtually no time at all.

“Well damn Slayer!” Kendal said, walking up and looking at her station.

“Slayer?” I asked. I had forgotten about that, for the first four months I worked for her she thought I was one of those “scene kids” who give themselves pointless names involving murder and called me ‘Slayer.’ I hadn’t questioned her the first time around.

“Isn’t that your name?”

“Nah, it’s Slater, with a ‘t’ not a ‘y.’” I clarified, smiling.

“Well why the fuck didn’t you tell me that when you started here four fucking months ago?”

“I didn’t really notice until just now.”

“I’m still gonna call you Slayer, just so-” She was cut off by the door opening and a customer walking in. I walked up to the desk, “Hey, are you Kendal’s appointment or are you here for Shane?"

“Well I came for Shane, but I’ll stay for you baby.” He winked at me; I rolled my eyes and called Shane over to deal with his appointment. I grabbed his arm while he was passing me. “Deal with him, he’s high as fuck.” I said, letting go of his arm and walking back over to Kendal, who was inspecting her machine. “Hey, what time’s your appointment supposed to be coming in? I was gonna clean up the sketch station but I don’t wanna be covered in charcoal and graphite when he walks in.”

“Uh, he should have been here ten minutes ago, actually. But it doesn’t matter; I can take care of it.” She said. I nodded and started to walk to the sketching area when she grabbed my wrist.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“What’s going on with Shane? Who is that guy?”

“When I asked if he was here for you or Shane, he said that he came for Shane but he’d stay for me, and his eyes are red as fuck, so I’m guessing that he’s Shane’s high-as-superman-client who I’m gonna refer to as High Guy, I asked Shane to deal with him.”

“Fuck, that’s all I need in my shop. Shane looks like he’s gonna kill his ass. I blame you.”

“Why the fuck do you blame me?!”

“You made friends with the hot gay guy! He’s more defensive of you than he is me!”

“He is hot… Why are all the hot artists gay?” I muttered to myself. “Want me to see what I can do?” I asked loud enough for her to hear me.

“If you want, I have to call my client, if he’s not showing up, I’m touching up my left forearm.”

I smirked at her disregard for her clientele and walked over to Shane and the High Guy, “Excuse me, is there a problem here?” I asked.

High Guy said “Yeah! You’re over there and he won’t let me near you!” to which Shane practically growled “Damn fucking straight I won’t let you near her.” I put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down and addressed High Guy. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” I said.

“I didn’t get my tattoo!” he started yelling.

“If your dumb ass didn’t come in high, you would’ve gotten your fucking tattoo,” Shane said.

“Fuck you!”he screamed, storming out of the shop.

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” I asked Shane, pulling him into a hug.

“Nobody, I just don’t like pot head-dick bags coming into the shop and hitting on my bitch,” he said, returning my hug.

“Oh, so now I’m your bitch?”

“Bitch, you’ve been my bitch for over three months!”

“I guess that’s true, because I get you food and clean up your messes….”

“So do you still want those snakebites?”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna do ‘em myself.”

“Don’t get infected!”

“If I get infected I’m cutting your balls off and turning them into a lamp for your ex.”

“Harsh.”

“Go back to work!” I shoved him toward his station and went over to the sketching area, and spent the next hour cleaning all their shit.



“I’ll take a large caramel frappe and a large mocha frappe, and a twenty piece chicken nugget please,” I said into the speaker at McDonalds, feeling like a fat ass. I pulled around to the window, paid, got mine and B’s fried goodness and drove back to the house.

As I was walking on the path to the front door, my heel caught on something, and I dropped to the ground, skinning my knee in the process, effectively fucking up my tattoo. I managed to save the food though. I was still fucking pissed.

I opened the door and walked in to see none other than Simmons standing halfway up the stairs. “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?!” I screamed.

“THEY’RE LEAVING!” B screamed. She came up the stairs and stared at me, I probably looked like I was about to rip Simmons’ throat out, and I was.

“Alright, let’s move out!” Simmons called. Every one stopped what they were doing and looked at him. “YOU HEARD ME!” he yelled. They all began to file out. Once they were gone, I turned to Blake.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked.

“They had a fucking warrant.”

“Shit! Where’d they go?

“Everywhere,” she answered, grabbing a bottle of water. “I slammed Simmons against the wall, choked with my forearm, then with my foot. I threatened the shit out of him.”

“We need a plan,” I said.

“I’m working on it. I have an idea.”

“And what does this idea require?”

“A little bit of time and meds.”

“Well we’ve got both, and I got the shit to pierce your nose, and a set to do my lip, and I brought frappes and nuggets.”
We ate or food, I pierced her nose and my lip, and then I went upstairs to check out the damage. About six seconds in and I was already raging; my favorite batman underwear set was missing. “WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY UNDERWEAR?!?!?” I ran down the stairs, screaming.