Gumball's P.O.V
I started my long journey to art class. I had no fucking idea where it is. So I just stumbled quite awkwardly around, constantly bumping into some weird people.
These 'people' were not polite to me. They sneered at me and then just pushed past me. I almost got into a fight, because some jock walked into me and started bitching about that. I just slowly backed away, while he was busy scolding a trashcan.
Ooooh these kids are cray-cray. And super high. I don't even know, if there is some kind of drug control in this school. Nope. I think the staff was like 'these kids are so weird it doesn't even matter.'
Seems legit.
Finally I got to the art class. The bell rang 5 minutes ago, which means I'm gonna be fashionably late.
I fixed my hair, and walked in. The class got quiet. Teacher was probably explaining something before I showed up, so she had her mouth still open.
That looked fucking hilarious. I had to try so hard not to burst out laughing.
When she spotted me, her mouth curved into a flirtatious smirk. Ew. She wasn't actually really ugly, but she didn't have one thing I like. A penis. Or maybe she does have it.
Shudder.
I sincerely hope she doesn't have it.
When I said I'm bisexual, it was because I've had a girlfriend before, and she was pretty hot, but I think it was just because she was giving good blowjobs. No I'm not a man-whore.
I sometimes have attraction toward females, so since now let's just say that I'm pansexual. Hell yeah! I fuck anything that moves. Only humans of course.
Shudder again.
But at the moment, while watching at that weird lady winking at me, I feel like joining the gay side. That side is cooler anyway.
I said sleepily: "Hello. I'm the new student."
She smiled and chirped out: "Hello, hello. I heard that we have a new student in the morning. What is your name and what do you like to do? Introduce yourself to the class please."
Yeah, right. I like to do NOT YOU BITCH.
Now, what should I say.
"You can call me Gumball. Aaaaand, I like to play guitar." I replied shrugging. The class was already whispering about me, so I didn't say anything like 'in my free time I sacrifice innocent young woven to Satan and drink their blood while I declare my love to the dark spirits.' At least that's what people in my old school thought I was doing.
I do look bad-ass, but I do NOT have a stable relationship with Satan. We broke up long time ago.
I snickered at my own joke while making my way to teacher and giving her my paper stuff. You know, stuff.
She nodded and with a horrifying wink sent me on my way to a free seat in the back of the class.
I sat down on my seat and started zoning out. I had no interest in the blabbing of that dumb bitch, so I just didn't listen. Simple.
She was talking about painting brushes. I already know all about them. My art teacher was the only normal teacher at my old school. She teached me really a lot.
This bitch went on and on about stupid things, so I just stared out of the widow.
I would like to be a squirrel. Such a sweet life. Ahhhh. I wiped an imaginary tear and continued staring at the trees like a creeper.
Such an interesting school-day so far.