Bulls In the Bronx | PTV [ROUGH EDITING]

Million Dollar Houses (The Painter) *

_________________________________________________________________

Bulls In The Bronx [Fan Fiction] Project - By RainPierce

Million Dollar Houses (The Painter)

When we arrived to the cafeteria, it was fairly packed. I'm sure as hell positive that there were a good amount of people. Some were either getting their food by the buffet, or their drinks at the soda machines, or at their tables conversing.

I looked around, and saw a couple of empty tables. I approached one of them, followed by the rest of the group. We overcrowded it, and began taking our seats, lazily. Some of us were still trying to wake up, at least.

So, now that we're here, let's say that Vic decided to get his revenge on Jaime and Mike. Instead of pranking them, he decide to give them two choices, and neither of those two choices weren't good. 1, they either walked around with bras and trousers, or 2, walked around with doodled dicks on their faces & arms for the rest of the day. Yeah, both are extremely humiliating, and probably both traumatizing to them and the people that saw them. As a conclusion, Mike and Jaime decided to walk around with dicks on their arms and faces. And you see, throughout that process of doodling them, it was so hard to not burst out laughing. I was actually crawling with hysterical laughter that I teared, a lot. After that I tried hard not to laugh when people walked by us, while giving weird looks.

We sat at our table, conversing about whatever came up. That's when it happened.

"Mom, what do they have on their faces?" A boy asked walking by us, pointing both at Mike and Jaime. His mother glared at us, "Nothing, Michael, just keep on walking."

Jaime sighed and glanced at the boy, opening his mouth. "They're called dicks, my boy. Penises. Me entiendes? Get what I'm sayin'?"

I let out a laugh at this.Oh my god, Jaime can you be less vulgar. Jesus.

Her mom glared at Jaime, "Language!" Soon, they ran out the cafe, and a couple of people that sat around us just sneered, and laughed, or just stared. Personally, I didn't give two shits because I was laughing nonstop myself.

"Jaime! He's just a little boy..." I hissed in laughter, punching his arm. "Jesus will punish you, I swear."

Jaime pouted, "That hurt. And he's a boy, he has one! Plus, Jesus must be busy."

I laughed.

"How can I help you, guys?" A waitress approached us asking, with a notepad in hand. Her curious eyes landed on Jaime, and soon her lazy expression was exchanged to confusion, but not wanting to know what to was even the reason of the dickheads. She seemed curious, but she didn't dare to ask.

"Um, I'd like some tacos." Jaime replied with a smile, looking up at her.

"Uh, we don't serve tacos, sir." She replied, awkwardly and shyly.

Jaime's jaw dropped, seeming offended. "Are you serious? Why not?!"

The waitress gaped at him, "Sorry sir, we just don't serve... tacos."

He looked away, this close to make a tantrum. Everyone else at the table just looked at him, and switched confused or speechless glances. My lips remained parted, unknowing what to say.

"Uhm, well, I'll get a couple pancakes, eggs and sausage." I respond, side-eying the waitress, not wanting to make eye-contact due to the embarrassment.

Tony pursed his lips, thinking of what to order. "I'll just get a coffee for now."

After everyone finished ordering, Vic glanced at Jaime, gesturing him to go once again. But Jaime just eyeballed him, not looking at the waitress. "And you? What do you want?" Vic asked, soon scrunching his face, regretting to even ask.