you suck ≫ clifford

chapter eight | epilogue

"So back to this Rosie," Bailee tried changing the subject. "Does she like you back?" Bailee smiled, drying one of the three dishes.

"Yeah, but her mommy says she's not allowed to. But she likes me so much that she doesn't listen to her!" Logan bragged, seeming very proud of himself.

"Why not?" Michael scoffed, standing up from his chair and began walking over to a pile of mail on the counter.

"She told her mommy what my name was and then her mommy told her that daddy did something really mean to her," Logan explained, watching his parents exchange confused faces. "But don't worry! I told her that my daddy is really nice because he teaches me how to play the guitar and makes me paper airplanes."

"What's Rosie's last name, sweetie?" Bailee asked, drying the last dish.

"Breslin."

Bailee then dropped the plate, letting it hit the floor and shatter. She turned her head to meet his bulging eyes and dropped jaw. They were both stunned as to the last name that just whipped out of Logan's oblivious mouth.

"Oh my God!" Bailee's eyes lit up as she blurted the statement aloud. "We need to invite Rosie and her mom over! This is probably the best thing that has-"

"-Bailee!" Michael scoffed, his deep and serious tone echoing through the large house and making Logan jump. "Logan, you may never speak to this Rosie chick ever again."

"Daddy!" Logan whined, gasping as she popped out of his seat, racing over to his mom in defense. "Mommy! Do something!"

Bailee picked Logan up and placed him on the counter, trying to avoid for him stepping on a piece of broken plate.

"C'mon, daddy!" Bailee whined in a tone Logan would use, getting on her knees and beginning to clean the broken plate. "Remember what happened when Juliet was forbidden to see Romeo? Next thing you know, he's poisoning himself and she's stabbing herself with-"

"-I know what happened, Bailee! I know!" Michael stampeded, throwing the pile of mail he had been holding onto the granite counter tops. "But under to condition will Logan marry that bitch's daughter!"

"Don't swear!" Logan crossed his arms, turning to face his father from across the kitchen.

"Logan, honey," Bailee gleamed, holding the final bit of plate shards in her hands and throwing them away in the garbage. "You do what you want. I bet she's a lovely little girl. Don't listen to what daddy says."

Bailee put Logan down on the floor, shooing him away to go play dinosaurs or something, not giving a shit what he did at that point. She needed to secure her boyfriend that was contemplating suicide from across the room.

"I hate how you want to create world peace," Michael snickered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And I hate how you want our son to kill himself because the love of his life faked a death so they could run away together."

"And I hate how you know so much about Shakespeare."

"And I hate how you hold such strong grudges."

"And I hate how you still love Abigail Breslin despite the fact that you've fucked Michael Clifford about two-hundred and seven times and had a kid with him."

"That song released seven years ago, Michael!" Bailee giggled, placing her back into Michael's chest and tangling their fingers together.

"Abigail is clearly not over it!" Michael said in defense, wrapping her interlocked arms over her stomach.

"Abigail is about women-empowerment," Bailee giggled, looking up at Michael flirtatiously. "Let her do whatever the hell she wants."

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but soon Logan's voice started shouting something from the living room across the large house. "Mommy! Daddy! Can we have a movie night?"

"Sure buddy," Michael shouted back, turning his head. "Pick out a movie."

Bailee turned up to Michael, kissing his jawline quickly and softly. "Even though I agree with Abigail and want you to fly to the moon, I really do love you, Michael. You're my best friend."

"Stop trying to butter me up so I'll let Logan like that scumbag whore."

"She's a little, six year-old girl, Michael!" Bailee giggled, leaning her head back onto Michael's shoulder blade. "Don't be rude."

"I'll do what I want."

Bailee then pulled away from Michael, eyeing him up and down. "How does that song go again? Oh - I hate your dumb tattoo. I wish you'd fly to the-"

"-Stop!" Michael laughed, nudging Bailee in the shoulder playfully.

Logan then came bursting into the room, holding a movie in his hand and giving it to his dad, who was leaning against the counter.

Michael shook his head, laughing as he turned the movie over so Bailee could see. "Nim's Island! Seriously! Why do we own this?"

"I may have bought it a couple nights ago," Bailee smirked, swiping the disc case out of Michael's hand and giving it back to Logan. "Let's go watch it together. I'll show you Rosie's mommy. She's in this movie."

"I'm not watching it!" Michael refused as he watched his son and girlfriend walk towards the family room hand-in-hand.

"If you don't watch little Abigail, I'll invite old Abigail over here for dinner tomorrow night," Bailee smirked over at Michael. "You know I'm good at demanding and getting what I want."

Michael sighed, curling his eyebrows and shaking his head at Bailee.

"So what will it be, Michael?" Bailee smirked, holding the movie up for Michael to see. "Big or little Abigail?"

Michael puffed out air, beginning to lag themselves to the family room to watch an old, scared Abigail Breslin film.

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this is so bad forgive me i didn't know what to do