Not Out Loud

Welcome Home

My friends and I, we're all really nice people. I promise! I will walk right up and talk to just about anyone. She works in the fast food service and has no fear or regrets, so she makes friends pretty easy too. One of us is kind of quiet, but a total sweetheart once you get to know him. And then there's the class clown who adventures into the 3rd ward with no fear and shares cigarettes with homeless people.

So yeah, we're all nice.

But we are assholes to each other.

I guess it had been two weeks since we were all together. I was on vacation. Then he was on vacation. The other two were working. It had been awhile.

Well, when all of us have the code to get into his house, and he's not getting home until midnight, and we get a little bored, well...

It was my idea. I'll definitly take credit for it. I am the genius of the group. (Not at all, as much as I'd like to think so.)

Anyways, we had nothing to do that night, we're a bunch of jerks, and his door was wide open.

So, armed with thumb tacks (which I still haven't gotten back by the way), magnets, hundreds of sticky notes, and silly string, we all broke into his house.

(Insert smirk here.)

We started small. Playing cards on the cieling fan.

Then we started spraying silly strong across the room. This naturally turned into a war, and that stufff ended up everywhere!

Then I took the time to cover the entire back of his door in sticky notes, whilst she made a maze of tape across the whole room.

He focused on pinning the underwear to the ceiling, because neither of us girls wanted to touch that stuff.

I then lovingly made his bed, complete with short-sheeting.

A hat full of BB's later, and a few prized snapchats, we scrambled out of there and waited.

"Almost home." Was his excited text.

"Yay!" Was my reply.

And yay indeed.

Around midnight, the poop hit the fan.

Tired and perhaps a little hungover, he innocently opened his bedroom door.

And here is how I picture it:

Hundreds of BB's shower down upon his head and a few choice words fly from his mouth.

With a sigh, and perhaps a little whine, he starts to clean.

He's smart so he checked the ceiling fan before turning it on. Go him. Asshole...

Then he had to tear down all the tape, pull down his underwear, and clean up the silly string.

Well, he's smart, but only after all this, and after getting his hopes up, did he close his door enough to see my masterpiece.

(Insert evil smile and laugh here.)

Actually no,

mwahahahaha >:)

Much better.

"I thought I was done cleaning." Was the exasperated text at about 1:30 in the morning. Complete with a photo of his door covered from ceiling to floor in sticky notes.

Welcome home, buddy.

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Author's Note:

I'm really not sorry for that one.

And he still hasn't gotten payback, but really, what's the worst he can do?