Home of the Free, the Sick, and Depraved
Faggot
-Chris's POV-
I was sitting in the back lounge watching The Nightmare Before Christmas when my phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey," I heard Dez's beautiful voice on the other line but she sounded sad.
"Hey, Dez, is everything alright?"
"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."
"Bull. What's wrong?"
"Just some old memories came back, but I want to talk to you so what's up?"
"Okay then... Well I was just watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. How about your cute self?"
"Nothing really. Just being lazy," she giggled.
"Your laugh is so cute."
"Shut up, liar."
"No, really. It is."
"No..."
"Whatever... How's school going?"
"It's alright."
"Doing well?"
"Yeah. Always revising..."
"It'll pay off. I promise you."
"If you say so..."
We talked for a while until I grew hungry.
"Hey, Dez, I'm gonna go now. A man needs his dinner," I chuckled.
"Goodness, okay. Bye, Chris," I hung up and walked off the bus to find some decent place to eat. Okay, Michigan, do you have anything good for me to eat?
"Hey, faggot! Suck this!" a guy with a snap back dropped his pants and wiggled his hips.
"Yeah, I guess I am a faggot, huh? I mean, I even painted it on my abdomen once... Yeah, I think I win," I retorted and the kid pulled his pants back up so he could walk over to me.
"No one makes a fool of me," he grumbled.
"No one? Oh, well make that someone."
"Listen up, punk-"
"What are you? 17, maybe? I could go to jail for hitting you."
"I'm 18, thanks."
"Oh great. So if you throw a punch and injure me, which most likely won't happen due to your lack of muscle, you'll be tried as an adult."
"Lack of muscle? Excuse me," he flexed to show off nothing.
"Yeah, uh, you're making my point. Now, I'm going to leave and you're going to keep living your pathetic live," I turned and he kicked right behind my knee on the right leg, causing me to fall.
"Ha!" he kicked my abdomen and didn't stop until I grabbed his ankle and twisted it until he fell over.
"Ow, shit!"
"By the way, kicking someone when they're on the ground isn't a sign of strength. It just proves you pick on the weak," this time, I left for real and found a pizza parlor to enjoy some dinner.
I was sitting in the back lounge watching The Nightmare Before Christmas when my phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey," I heard Dez's beautiful voice on the other line but she sounded sad.
"Hey, Dez, is everything alright?"
"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."
"Bull. What's wrong?"
"Just some old memories came back, but I want to talk to you so what's up?"
"Okay then... Well I was just watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. How about your cute self?"
"Nothing really. Just being lazy," she giggled.
"Your laugh is so cute."
"Shut up, liar."
"No, really. It is."
"No..."
"Whatever... How's school going?"
"It's alright."
"Doing well?"
"Yeah. Always revising..."
"It'll pay off. I promise you."
"If you say so..."
We talked for a while until I grew hungry.
"Hey, Dez, I'm gonna go now. A man needs his dinner," I chuckled.
"Goodness, okay. Bye, Chris," I hung up and walked off the bus to find some decent place to eat. Okay, Michigan, do you have anything good for me to eat?
"Hey, faggot! Suck this!" a guy with a snap back dropped his pants and wiggled his hips.
"Yeah, I guess I am a faggot, huh? I mean, I even painted it on my abdomen once... Yeah, I think I win," I retorted and the kid pulled his pants back up so he could walk over to me.
"No one makes a fool of me," he grumbled.
"No one? Oh, well make that someone."
"Listen up, punk-"
"What are you? 17, maybe? I could go to jail for hitting you."
"I'm 18, thanks."
"Oh great. So if you throw a punch and injure me, which most likely won't happen due to your lack of muscle, you'll be tried as an adult."
"Lack of muscle? Excuse me," he flexed to show off nothing.
"Yeah, uh, you're making my point. Now, I'm going to leave and you're going to keep living your pathetic live," I turned and he kicked right behind my knee on the right leg, causing me to fall.
"Ha!" he kicked my abdomen and didn't stop until I grabbed his ankle and twisted it until he fell over.
"Ow, shit!"
"By the way, kicking someone when they're on the ground isn't a sign of strength. It just proves you pick on the weak," this time, I left for real and found a pizza parlor to enjoy some dinner.