Status: I was bored in class....and so I collaborated with a friend in efforts to make a terribly stupid story that shall entertain like no other.
Age of Perdition
Exposure
"Morgan!" called a chubby little man with tan skin and dark freckles. He huffed and gasped as he hurriedly jogged up to a tall, blond man standing in line outside the corner store.
"Morg," he puffed as he finally reached the young man in line, clasping his knees to catch his breath.
"Ah, Carl..." the young man sighed and smiled. "You know you can not run excessively (20 feet) in your poor condition. What on earth have you gotten yourself so antsy about?"
"Morg, you ass..." the chubby man sighed as he straightened his back. "I have come to collect you an-"
"That's what she said," Morgan snickered.
"....Ok, let's be serious now, Morgan. No more of this nonsense. "
"This isn't nonsense," he interrupted once again.
"Have you forgotten your important job interview?" Carl exclaimed.
The tall, blond man sighed as if he'd given up hope in his share of the argument. He stared down at his feet depressingly and thought for a moment in silence. "Perhaps," he began, with a pause. "Perhaps I can enlighten you with my -perfectly reasonable- excuse before you go throwing about your little fat man's attitude?"
The little man began to grow impatient. His dark face quickly flushed with red, making it quite clear that his nerves were on end. "Enlighten me," he rumbled through gritted teeth.
Morgan flinched nervously and quickly exasperated, "Why, I was hungry and needed purchase of a wholly granola bar to appeal to the rumblings of my innards." He then flashed a large grin of brightly white teeth, one gold, across his face.
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The carriage shook as it glided not-so-smoothly down the rocky dirt road, drawn by two large beauties of grey-speckled horses. A thin brown man sat stiffly on the front seat outside of the carriage, firmly gripping the reins. Inside, Morgan leaned his face against the back left window and stubbornly glared out the window, avoiding eye contact with the chubby "baby-sitter" of a man that his father had hired almost six years before to keep him in order.
"Morg," he puffed as he finally reached the young man in line, clasping his knees to catch his breath.
"Ah, Carl..." the young man sighed and smiled. "You know you can not run excessively (20 feet) in your poor condition. What on earth have you gotten yourself so antsy about?"
"Morg, you ass..." the chubby man sighed as he straightened his back. "I have come to collect you an-"
"That's what she said," Morgan snickered.
"....Ok, let's be serious now, Morgan. No more of this nonsense. "
"This isn't nonsense," he interrupted once again.
"Have you forgotten your important job interview?" Carl exclaimed.
The tall, blond man sighed as if he'd given up hope in his share of the argument. He stared down at his feet depressingly and thought for a moment in silence. "Perhaps," he began, with a pause. "Perhaps I can enlighten you with my -perfectly reasonable- excuse before you go throwing about your little fat man's attitude?"
The little man began to grow impatient. His dark face quickly flushed with red, making it quite clear that his nerves were on end. "Enlighten me," he rumbled through gritted teeth.
Morgan flinched nervously and quickly exasperated, "Why, I was hungry and needed purchase of a wholly granola bar to appeal to the rumblings of my innards." He then flashed a large grin of brightly white teeth, one gold, across his face.
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The carriage shook as it glided not-so-smoothly down the rocky dirt road, drawn by two large beauties of grey-speckled horses. A thin brown man sat stiffly on the front seat outside of the carriage, firmly gripping the reins. Inside, Morgan leaned his face against the back left window and stubbornly glared out the window, avoiding eye contact with the chubby "baby-sitter" of a man that his father had hired almost six years before to keep him in order.
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---Chapter not finished---