The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Totally Normal Death Wish

Just to be absolutely sure I'm not stranded anywhere without a change of clothes, I packed an extra pair of everything in my trusty Extra-Thicc Trash Bag™ I use to move every year. I could use a suitcase, but they don't make any durable ones in leather. 

Although, I have to say, power walking with a trash bag has augmented my drag by a buncha percent, I guess, cuz instead of arriving before the bell, I just about make it.

Only to be met by Hayden and his ill-named Dick Mobile parked in front, with a doggy-bag on his hand. The nerve of this guy to be on my general point of view after thrusting me into sadboy twink and the Easter Island head rejects' maws. 

"Hey, brother," he says, jogging towards me. Somehow, he doesn't look as imponent compared to the half a half of a half baker's dozen that Brayden uses as goons. "I made you a Mille-Feuille. Lemon custard and dulce de leche!"

I'm not in the mood to do this. I'm already resigned to staying in my vent. Nothing annoys me in the vent. I even have two pets in the form of Pepperoni Jr and Frank Squeeknatra, the two rats that cuddle with me for warmth near midnight. 

And what best to represent that than to swipe the bag to the ground and stomp on it repeatedly while saying "Man, fuck your custard!"

"My handmade puff pastry!" he yelled, grabbing his perfectly shaven head. "Bro, what the hell?"

"Your handmade puff pastry? How about my handmade cotton undies you destroyed by being a huge brute, and making me ride your Dick Mobile and leaving me high and dry?" 

"Omygosh!" says a voice behind me – feminine, annoying, and noisy, the only things that can describe one Laila Whateverherlastnameis. "He rode Hayden's dick dry!" 

"And did you hear?" says another voice, equally annoying, noise, and just slightly less high-pitched, as it is the case for Leeland. "He rode it so hard that it broke his underwear. Ugh I want Hayden daddy to break my underwear too ugh."

Great, now his improper phrasing is rubbing on me. See? Rubbing. 

"Well, that was unfortunate, brother," he says, trying to grab me by the shoulder. What is it with my shoulder that is so grabbable? "But you don't gotta take it on the food. Food's innocent. It only wants to go into your tummy and give you a hella good time."

I do my best to shake him off, but he's not a beef boy for nothing. 

"Food made me shit myself after you squeezed me like a toothpaste!" I say. "Look, you promised that after we bunched up, things would be different. I was more than happy to be in my vent, being happy, but ever since I met you, I've been to detention twice, and keep in mind that I've only had two days of school, so two for two there; I've also been sexually harassed, made a public toilet, embarrassed in front of a curly-haired cutie, tickled to the point of urination, and officially involved with the Bangtan-Sicilian mafia. Is there any other missing?"

He looks at me for a second, scratching his chin, the sign he is monologuing. "People also think you're my boyfriend."

"Thank you!" I say. "I just forgot about that. So no, thank you. Don't want you, don't want your Dick Mobile, don't want your pasties, and don't want anything to do with Cabbage McKenzie, wherever he is. Leave me alone."

"Omygosh!" says Laila, whose voice I can now pinpoint behind a bush, stalking creepily. "Ayden just broke up with Hayden! Ugh I wanna make him mine now ugh."

"Ugh," monologues Leeland. "I want him to break up with me or break my legs Ugh."

Great, more drama. Just what I need. 

"Look, brother," he says, moving his hand from my shoulders to my arm. I don't consent to any of this. "I know he can be a bit weird, and maybe he is kind of maybe a very big idiot, but that kid has a good heart, deep, deep, deep, deep-"