Leslie took another swig of his red Solo cup of water, his body leaning and hunching over the wood railing of the back deck.
He didn't know why he even bothered showing up; he didn't even dress up for this shit. Jess said she was going and he wasn't doing anything anyway, but honestly he wasn't really having any fun.
It was just so... loud. Everything was. The noise, the costumes, the really really weird Get Out vibes he got from this house. All of it.
...That last one was a little too mean; Dani was a nice enough girl, but something always felt super off about rich people, like obscenely wealthy people. He heard so many stories from his dad, like some cash-buying client from Chicago that was terrified about buying a house "plagued with ghosts" so he always took an medium with him to showings just so they'd tell him that that house was clean. Normal guy shit like that.
Leslie swished the cup around before taking another sip.
At least it was kind of quiet out here, even with the unwanted soundtrack bass radiating from the house. The moon and stars were looking kind of shy and hid behind a bunch of dark clouds, but it was still rather pretty.
There was a commotion coming from behind. Leslie whipped his head around in time to see some bozo in a tree suit trip on his own costume and flip to the ground, right by the glass door with the cup in his hands dropping and spilling everywhere. His friend dressed like some anime-looking dude pulled him up with a concerned "you good, bro?"
Leslie frowned and turned back around. Maybe he should just look for Jess and say hi before dipping or before she got murdered.
He took another sip.
It's Christmas, and we're on Mars.
taking a break from the party on Dani's backyard deck (open)
Dicky was supposed to be Larry Bird.
Instead, his blonde wig had him looking like Phillip Seymour Hoffman in Along Came Polly. One of the best basketball scenes in movie history—not the best look for a basketball player. Let alone the basketball captain. Well, maybe for the captain of the Terriers. Richard’s too-short green shorts rode up on his wide white thighs, but the Bird jersey was legit. Big Dick’s father had been a producer for a local sports radio show (Skippy and The Juice!) for most of Richard’s life and now ran a Boston Celtics podcast independently. They had been having season tickets for years at this point. Richard was actually pretty excited to see Jayson and Jaylen and Marcus all go H.A.M. on the Bulls tomorrow.
Which was why he woulda been caught dead wearing a fake jersey. Costume or not.
It was also why he wasn’t planning to stay very long . Drink a few brews, puff on a joint and then ride off into the night to tear up the Taco Bell. Wasn’t that Dicky didn’t like to party—he just preferred to be the host. Richard knew he was too much of a control freak to have a good time in someone else’s mess.
Big Dick liked the chaos he could control. He was too competitive to enjoy someone else's mischief.
Dick had nearly knocked the tree-dude and his nakama over again as they stumbled away from the deck and Richard stumbled towards it. Broad shouldered and determined for some fresh air; the cool night breeze felt baptismal as it coated his skin and goosebumps began to appear on his forearms. Dick had a bulldog’s demeanor and a Snorlax’s physique, capable of making himself known and maintaining his space…even if it meant getting up in yours. The non-descript bros knew better than to get in the way of Richard and the night air.
Big Dick surveyed the scene and tried to find a place to rest his feet and get his breath. The cool night air was better than the crowded indoors of a party full of mouth breathing Massholes currently creating the Omega Variant. There was the risk of missing when Dani’s tits inevitably popped out, but that was a bit like missing the sunrise—there’d be another chance for that nonsense sooner rather than later. It was just nature.
Some dude had the same idea as Richard—getting some air and getting away. Posted up by the deck railing. No costume. A sad sack just taking in the scene and taking in some sips. Dicky walked up to him and mimicked his position, leaning forward and placing his weight on the railing. The beer in his hand was lukewarm, Natty Light that hadn’t spent enough time in the freezer. It tasted like sweet vinegar. The relief he got from leaning felt better than the joy he got from drinking.
Dicky took a longer sip and didn’t say a word.
Instead, his blonde wig had him looking like Phillip Seymour Hoffman in Along Came Polly. One of the best basketball scenes in movie history—not the best look for a basketball player. Let alone the basketball captain. Well, maybe for the captain of the Terriers. Richard’s too-short green shorts rode up on his wide white thighs, but the Bird jersey was legit. Big Dick’s father had been a producer for a local sports radio show (Skippy and The Juice!) for most of Richard’s life and now ran a Boston Celtics podcast independently. They had been having season tickets for years at this point. Richard was actually pretty excited to see Jayson and Jaylen and Marcus all go H.A.M. on the Bulls tomorrow.
Which was why he woulda been caught dead wearing a fake jersey. Costume or not.
It was also why he wasn’t planning to stay very long . Drink a few brews, puff on a joint and then ride off into the night to tear up the Taco Bell. Wasn’t that Dicky didn’t like to party—he just preferred to be the host. Richard knew he was too much of a control freak to have a good time in someone else’s mess.
Big Dick liked the chaos he could control. He was too competitive to enjoy someone else's mischief.
[ Big Dick Buster Continued From: Executive Privilege ]
Dick had nearly knocked the tree-dude and his nakama over again as they stumbled away from the deck and Richard stumbled towards it. Broad shouldered and determined for some fresh air; the cool night breeze felt baptismal as it coated his skin and goosebumps began to appear on his forearms. Dick had a bulldog’s demeanor and a Snorlax’s physique, capable of making himself known and maintaining his space…even if it meant getting up in yours. The non-descript bros knew better than to get in the way of Richard and the night air.
Big Dick surveyed the scene and tried to find a place to rest his feet and get his breath. The cool night air was better than the crowded indoors of a party full of mouth breathing Massholes currently creating the Omega Variant. There was the risk of missing when Dani’s tits inevitably popped out, but that was a bit like missing the sunrise—there’d be another chance for that nonsense sooner rather than later. It was just nature.
Some dude had the same idea as Richard—getting some air and getting away. Posted up by the deck railing. No costume. A sad sack just taking in the scene and taking in some sips. Dicky walked up to him and mimicked his position, leaning forward and placing his weight on the railing. The beer in his hand was lukewarm, Natty Light that hadn’t spent enough time in the freezer. It tasted like sweet vinegar. The relief he got from leaning felt better than the joy he got from drinking.
Dicky took a longer sip and didn’t say a word.
The stillness of the backyard that had been cut by the drunkards was further cut by the presence of another short dude but an absolute unit built like a brick shithouse with a bad blond wig that made him look like that dude that used to host the old The Apprentice show Dad loved for some reason.
Leslie gave Dick a silent head nod. Then he awkwardly took a sip from his cup while trying to think about if he was supposed to follow up on that or say something else but ended up just kinda shifting his eyes away rapidly and stared down into his cup.
Leslie gave Dick a silent head nod. Then he awkwardly took a sip from his cup while trying to think about if he was supposed to follow up on that or say something else but ended up just kinda shifting his eyes away rapidly and stared down into his cup.
The super official dudebro head-nod was returned with the prerequisite courtesy. Dicky stared out into space looking for nothing in particular. Richard was good with names and faces. Big Dick liked to champagne and campaign. But the vibe of the party was off and so was he. Couldn't place a name to the guy's face and so he was out of luck when it came to conversation starters. If you don't know what to say--say the truth.
“Party’s pretty lame.”
“Party’s pretty lame.”
((Rebekah Hayes continued from Into The Woods))
The party was going well. It wasn't a surprise. Nobody threw a party like Dani did.
Rebekah had been to a lot of Dani's parties over the years, and over time she had fallen into a support role. She hustled and bustled in the background, refilling and restocking and doing all the little things that needed to be done to make the party great. It was a cheerleader thing. The cheerleaders threw great parties, and the parties were great because the cheerleaders threw them. Somebody had to make sure that the greatness kept perpetuating itself, while the other cheerleaders were busy being attractive. And right now, the greatness required a few extra chairs.
Rebekah ventured out through the French glass door onto the deck. It was a "deck," not a patio. Because patios were paved, and decks were not. And they were "French doors" instead of sliding patio doors, and you could tell because sliding patio doors had a narrower frame. Rebekah knew these things, but she didn't like knowing them. Just like she didn't like knowing that there were actual humans who were so insistent about having patios that they simply could not bring themselves to live in houses with decks, and vice versa.
Rebekah often found it hard to believe that evolution had produced human beings who were completely incapable of experiencing joy in an environment with the wrong doorframes; but according to her mother, there were several in the greater Boston area. There were also 2,348 homeless humans in that area, none of whom seemed to care deeply about patio nomenclature. It seemed very backwards that the humans who refused to be happy if a house had the wrong doorframes managed to have houses while the humans who'd be happy with any house at all slept on the street.
Being at Dani's house always made Rebekah think about these things, whether she wanted to or not. She liked Dani. She liked Dani's family. But it was hard not to think about those things. So she did what she always did when she didn't want to think about things, and thought about animals instead. Giant Panda enclosures cost millions of dollars, and their food was incredibly expensive. Pigeons would happily live in squalor and eat garbage. But every zoo wanted Pandas, and no zoo on earth had a pigeon exhibit. Dani and her family were nice people. But with a house like this? They were definitely Great Panda people, not pigeons. Which was ironic, because they were Birds.
These were all the things running through Rebekah's mind as she stepped out onto the deck - which explained why she didn't see the branch that had fallen off of some guy's tree costume until she was already tripping over it.
"Aack!"
The branch rolled beneath her foot, sending both legs right out in front of her. She fell, landing squarely on her butt instead of her feet.
Which was ironic, because she was dressed as a cat.
The party was going well. It wasn't a surprise. Nobody threw a party like Dani did.
Rebekah had been to a lot of Dani's parties over the years, and over time she had fallen into a support role. She hustled and bustled in the background, refilling and restocking and doing all the little things that needed to be done to make the party great. It was a cheerleader thing. The cheerleaders threw great parties, and the parties were great because the cheerleaders threw them. Somebody had to make sure that the greatness kept perpetuating itself, while the other cheerleaders were busy being attractive. And right now, the greatness required a few extra chairs.
Rebekah ventured out through the French glass door onto the deck. It was a "deck," not a patio. Because patios were paved, and decks were not. And they were "French doors" instead of sliding patio doors, and you could tell because sliding patio doors had a narrower frame. Rebekah knew these things, but she didn't like knowing them. Just like she didn't like knowing that there were actual humans who were so insistent about having patios that they simply could not bring themselves to live in houses with decks, and vice versa.
Rebekah often found it hard to believe that evolution had produced human beings who were completely incapable of experiencing joy in an environment with the wrong doorframes; but according to her mother, there were several in the greater Boston area. There were also 2,348 homeless humans in that area, none of whom seemed to care deeply about patio nomenclature. It seemed very backwards that the humans who refused to be happy if a house had the wrong doorframes managed to have houses while the humans who'd be happy with any house at all slept on the street.
Being at Dani's house always made Rebekah think about these things, whether she wanted to or not. She liked Dani. She liked Dani's family. But it was hard not to think about those things. So she did what she always did when she didn't want to think about things, and thought about animals instead. Giant Panda enclosures cost millions of dollars, and their food was incredibly expensive. Pigeons would happily live in squalor and eat garbage. But every zoo wanted Pandas, and no zoo on earth had a pigeon exhibit. Dani and her family were nice people. But with a house like this? They were definitely Great Panda people, not pigeons. Which was ironic, because they were Birds.
These were all the things running through Rebekah's mind as she stepped out onto the deck - which explained why she didn't see the branch that had fallen off of some guy's tree costume until she was already tripping over it.
"Aack!"
The branch rolled beneath her foot, sending both legs right out in front of her. She fell, landing squarely on her butt instead of her feet.
Which was ironic, because she was dressed as a cat.
V9 Characters:
Zara Mohammad
Alexis Keller
Wyatt Latimer
Stephanie "Radical Steph" Raddison
Xiomara Ximenez
Zara Mohammad
Alexis Keller
Wyatt Latimer
Stephanie "Radical Steph" Raddison
Xiomara Ximenez
A smile cracked through Leslie's face. "Heh, yeah," he replied to the newcomer. He didn't take another sip.
Another commotion came from the glass doors. Leslie whipped around in time to see some cat lady fall right on her ass. Dani really needed to install a "watch your step" sign or something out here.
Leslie flinched as he considered if he should've gone and helped her up or something, but his feet weren't moving and he just kinda shrunk back and awkwardly looked at Dick to see what he would do.
Another commotion came from the glass doors. Leslie whipped around in time to see some cat lady fall right on her ass. Dani really needed to install a "watch your step" sign or something out here.
Leslie flinched as he considered if he should've gone and helped her up or something, but his feet weren't moving and he just kinda shrunk back and awkwardly looked at Dick to see what he would do.
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Applesintime
- Posts: 462
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
((Matthew Bell continued from Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food))
Matthew was a little calmer now. Still kinda pissed at Betty, but that was a problem for the next time he ran into her. Definitely a little buzzed, too. He'd bumblefucked his way through the house, flirting with whoever seemed like they'd be up for it. No luck as of yet, but it was good practice. Party seemed to be booming, which was good; Dani's parties were always pretty fucking awesome, plenty of alcohol and snacks and shit like that. Probably better than his, if Matthew was being honest.
But hell, a party was a party, whether it was in Dani's grand fucking mansion or his house or some random dude's shitty ass house, and Matthew was the goddamn life and soul of it! At the moment, he was hanging out by the glass doors, watching the comings and goings and sipping from a cup of water because he couldn't find anything better. At least it'd help with the hangover. Most of the people were just going out to smoke or vape their cranberry-bubblegum flavored vape that'd set off a smoke alarm if they did it inside.
Sip.
Some dude fell over, and Matthew started to set down his cup, but his friend helped him up, so Matthew relaxed again, took another sip. Then another fucking person fell over; some girl dressed as a cat, and this time, he saw nobody rushing to help her. Too busy vaping or drinking or whatever. Looks like it fell to him, not that he was complaining.
"Hey, you OK?" Setting the cup down and rushing over, Matthew went to help the cat girl up; she was one of the cheerleaders, he thought, but he didn't really know the cheerleaders by name. Dani was a cheerleader, he knew that, but he was a little bit low-info on the sports side of JEM, because of course, no fucking football team.
Anyway. Damsel in distress.
Matthew was a little calmer now. Still kinda pissed at Betty, but that was a problem for the next time he ran into her. Definitely a little buzzed, too. He'd bumblefucked his way through the house, flirting with whoever seemed like they'd be up for it. No luck as of yet, but it was good practice. Party seemed to be booming, which was good; Dani's parties were always pretty fucking awesome, plenty of alcohol and snacks and shit like that. Probably better than his, if Matthew was being honest.
But hell, a party was a party, whether it was in Dani's grand fucking mansion or his house or some random dude's shitty ass house, and Matthew was the goddamn life and soul of it! At the moment, he was hanging out by the glass doors, watching the comings and goings and sipping from a cup of water because he couldn't find anything better. At least it'd help with the hangover. Most of the people were just going out to smoke or vape their cranberry-bubblegum flavored vape that'd set off a smoke alarm if they did it inside.
Sip.
Some dude fell over, and Matthew started to set down his cup, but his friend helped him up, so Matthew relaxed again, took another sip. Then another fucking person fell over; some girl dressed as a cat, and this time, he saw nobody rushing to help her. Too busy vaping or drinking or whatever. Looks like it fell to him, not that he was complaining.
"Hey, you OK?" Setting the cup down and rushing over, Matthew went to help the cat girl up; she was one of the cheerleaders, he thought, but he didn't really know the cheerleaders by name. Dani was a cheerleader, he knew that, but he was a little bit low-info on the sports side of JEM, because of course, no fucking football team.
Anyway. Damsel in distress.
First step was a bitch, huh?
Dicky’s better nature motioned him to move but his bad mood forced him still. He turned to look at the scene, girl in cat costume on the ground—meathead rushing to the rescue. Some JROTC loser Dick knew by face but not by name. Richard was a jock, his masculinity the industrial standard of toxic. He didn’t vibe with this whole scene though and as he sipped his beer he felt a bubbling resentment towards the would-be rescuer. Dressing in a bad Elvis get up in 2021? The King of Rock n Roll? King of stealing shit from black folks more like it. Richard didn't have the spirit or the time to justify and unpack his joke nor was he confident enough to say it aloud. The worst thing to appear was uncool--the uncoolest thing to be was bitter.
Still when he moved his mouth, he couldn't help but feel that twinge of uncool flavor on his tongue. It wasn’t Natty Lite.
“Have no fear,” he said with a flourish and a degree of theatricality, “Sargent Roid Rage is here!”
Dicky’s better nature motioned him to move but his bad mood forced him still. He turned to look at the scene, girl in cat costume on the ground—meathead rushing to the rescue. Some JROTC loser Dick knew by face but not by name. Richard was a jock, his masculinity the industrial standard of toxic. He didn’t vibe with this whole scene though and as he sipped his beer he felt a bubbling resentment towards the would-be rescuer. Dressing in a bad Elvis get up in 2021? The King of Rock n Roll? King of stealing shit from black folks more like it. Richard didn't have the spirit or the time to justify and unpack his joke nor was he confident enough to say it aloud. The worst thing to appear was uncool--the uncoolest thing to be was bitter.
Still when he moved his mouth, he couldn't help but feel that twinge of uncool flavor on his tongue. It wasn’t Natty Lite.
“Have no fear,” he said with a flourish and a degree of theatricality, “Sargent Roid Rage is here!”
Rebekah took the proffered hand and stood up, ruefully rubbing her butt. The cat costume (Well, come to think of it, Dani had called it a Catwoman costume, which explained the lack of tail and the high-heeled boots. Cats didn't wear boots, except in that one nursery rhyme) she'd borrowed was made of some tight black material, and it had no posterior padding at all. This wouldn't have happened if she'd dressed as a giant isopod like she originally wanted to. Giant isopods had calcareous chitins to shield their butts.
She was about to thank her savior for the helping hand when Big Dick Buster piped up and delivered what seemed like a catchphrase of some kind. Sargent Roid Rage? Was that a superhero? Rebekah didn't read a lot of comics.
She had seen this guy earlier whilst floating around the party, and had assumed that he was dressed as the guy from Grease. But if he was a hero, he'd appreciate being thanked like one, right? She decided to follow Dick's lead.
She stopped rubbing her butt and ripped off a military salute. "Thanks, Sarge! I owe you one!"
She was about to thank her savior for the helping hand when Big Dick Buster piped up and delivered what seemed like a catchphrase of some kind. Sargent Roid Rage? Was that a superhero? Rebekah didn't read a lot of comics.
She had seen this guy earlier whilst floating around the party, and had assumed that he was dressed as the guy from Grease. But if he was a hero, he'd appreciate being thanked like one, right? She decided to follow Dick's lead.
She stopped rubbing her butt and ripped off a military salute. "Thanks, Sarge! I owe you one!"
V9 Characters:
Zara Mohammad
Alexis Keller
Wyatt Latimer
Stephanie "Radical Steph" Raddison
Xiomara Ximenez
Zara Mohammad
Alexis Keller
Wyatt Latimer
Stephanie "Radical Steph" Raddison
Xiomara Ximenez
Leslie shifted his eyes away and with a nervous smirk took another sip of water.
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Applesintime
- Posts: 462
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
At Richard's words, Matthew turned his head slowly and just stared at him for a second. Really? Fucking really? You're the captain of the basketball team or the baseball team or something like that, in addition to literally being the fucking student council president, and you're just randomly insulting someone who's done literally nothing fucking wrong?
Normally, Matthew'd just give him the finger, call him a fat fucker and leave. But maybe he was a little buzzed. Maybe he was still kind of pissed about what Betty'd said about his mom. Either way, he ignored Rebekah for now. He'd talk to her later, but she didn't seem to be mocking him in the same way the big fat fucker over there was. And honestly, being saluted and called sarge was cool.
"Fuck you just call me?" He took a step towards Little Dick, sizing him up.
Matthew could probably kick him around like a soccer ball, he was round and small enough. LIke, seriously, you're picking a fight with someone who's six foot one and built like a fucking wall? Maybe he was drunk. He'd be sobered up soon if he was. Little fucker.
Normally, Matthew'd just give him the finger, call him a fat fucker and leave. But maybe he was a little buzzed. Maybe he was still kind of pissed about what Betty'd said about his mom. Either way, he ignored Rebekah for now. He'd talk to her later, but she didn't seem to be mocking him in the same way the big fat fucker over there was. And honestly, being saluted and called sarge was cool.
"Fuck you just call me?" He took a step towards Little Dick, sizing him up.
Matthew could probably kick him around like a soccer ball, he was round and small enough. LIke, seriously, you're picking a fight with someone who's six foot one and built like a fucking wall? Maybe he was drunk. He'd be sobered up soon if he was. Little fucker.
“Did I stutter?”
Dicky turned around and took one final deep sip of his Natty Lite. He appraised Matthew casually before he crushed the aluminum can in his hand and tossed it on the deck floor. Richard was used to bigger men trying to intimidate him—it never worked. Not on the court and not on the mean streets of suburban Salem. Big Dick’s stance was wide, firm and solid. His shoulders broad and his chin held high. His hands clenched into fists just as much to hype himself up as it was to signal to Matt.
“It was a joke,” Richard began with not a small degree of condescension, “Y’know, ha-ha, slap-your-knee, that kinda thing. It's a party if you hadn't noticed.”
The smirk on his face was a dare. It said ‘this won’t go how you’re thinking it will’. Translation: Fuck around and find out.
“Look at your reaction—you sure ain’t the Dali Llama,” Saturday Night Live hosted by Big Dick Buster, “Be careful everyone! The juice is loose!”
Dicky turned around and took one final deep sip of his Natty Lite. He appraised Matthew casually before he crushed the aluminum can in his hand and tossed it on the deck floor. Richard was used to bigger men trying to intimidate him—it never worked. Not on the court and not on the mean streets of suburban Salem. Big Dick’s stance was wide, firm and solid. His shoulders broad and his chin held high. His hands clenched into fists just as much to hype himself up as it was to signal to Matt.
“It was a joke,” Richard began with not a small degree of condescension, “Y’know, ha-ha, slap-your-knee, that kinda thing. It's a party if you hadn't noticed.”
The smirk on his face was a dare. It said ‘this won’t go how you’re thinking it will’. Translation: Fuck around and find out.
“Look at your reaction—you sure ain’t the Dali Llama,” Saturday Night Live hosted by Big Dick Buster, “Be careful everyone! The juice is loose!”
Sargent Roid Rage towered over Big Dick. Standing close together like this, they looked like a lowercase b.
A fight was brewing. Rebekah would have intervened to break it up, but she knew better than anyone that the was no point in getting between them. They were alpha males, fighting for dominance. They were basically Komodo dragons wrestling each other to the ground, bighorn sheep crashing together like furry cymbals, or hummingbirds stabbing each other with dagger-sharp bills. When rivalries got heated in the animal kingdom, every other creature had the good sense to stay away. It was more or less the same with human males - when they became enraged with one another, it was generally best to retreat to a safe distance and let them burn off their aggression for a few minutes, then intervene when they were coming down from the adrenaline spike and thinking a little more clearly.
Rebekah conscientiously took a few steps back, to give them some space. And to pick up the aluminum can that Dick had thrown away. Insults and aggression she could forgive, but littering was not cool.
A fight was brewing. Rebekah would have intervened to break it up, but she knew better than anyone that the was no point in getting between them. They were alpha males, fighting for dominance. They were basically Komodo dragons wrestling each other to the ground, bighorn sheep crashing together like furry cymbals, or hummingbirds stabbing each other with dagger-sharp bills. When rivalries got heated in the animal kingdom, every other creature had the good sense to stay away. It was more or less the same with human males - when they became enraged with one another, it was generally best to retreat to a safe distance and let them burn off their aggression for a few minutes, then intervene when they were coming down from the adrenaline spike and thinking a little more clearly.
Rebekah conscientiously took a few steps back, to give them some space. And to pick up the aluminum can that Dick had thrown away. Insults and aggression she could forgive, but littering was not cool.
V9 Characters:
Zara Mohammad
Alexis Keller
Wyatt Latimer
Stephanie "Radical Steph" Raddison
Xiomara Ximenez
Zara Mohammad
Alexis Keller
Wyatt Latimer
Stephanie "Radical Steph" Raddison
Xiomara Ximenez
-
Applesintime
- Posts: 462
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
Littering at someone else's party. What a dick.
"Yeah? Look around." Matthew gestured to the two gathered around them, plus some nerdy looking girl who just looked nervous as shit. "Everyone's fucking laughing. Haha. Oh wait, no they're not. Don't quit your day job as the basketball captain." A step closer. "Or, I dunno, you look more like the fucking basketball."
Oh, he wanted to wipe the smirk off Richard's face. A part of him wanted to step back and take a breather, say "Seriously? You're the basketball captain and the student council president or whatever, and your ego still needs you to pick fights with people who are both bigger and stronger than you?", but he was too pissed and buzzed to do that. Or maybe he was properly drunk at this point, who the fuck knew. Anyway. Dickhead to deal with.
"I'll ask again, fuck's your problem? I've done fucking nothing to you!" Matthew looked around before affixing on Dick, throwing his arms out to his side as if to say 'come at me'. The nerdy girl had fled. Maybe she was getting Ty or whoever the fuck was acting as security. Marshall? Dani herself- no, Dani was a little too prim and proper for uh, security shit. "What the fuck are you on about, Dali Llama? Do you not fucking know who Elvis is?"
Why couldn't someone just say "Hey, let's fight"? Something simple, instead of some cryptic bullshit like whatever the fuck he was saying? Matthew let out an aggravated huff.
"Yeah? Look around." Matthew gestured to the two gathered around them, plus some nerdy looking girl who just looked nervous as shit. "Everyone's fucking laughing. Haha. Oh wait, no they're not. Don't quit your day job as the basketball captain." A step closer. "Or, I dunno, you look more like the fucking basketball."
Oh, he wanted to wipe the smirk off Richard's face. A part of him wanted to step back and take a breather, say "Seriously? You're the basketball captain and the student council president or whatever, and your ego still needs you to pick fights with people who are both bigger and stronger than you?", but he was too pissed and buzzed to do that. Or maybe he was properly drunk at this point, who the fuck knew. Anyway. Dickhead to deal with.
"I'll ask again, fuck's your problem? I've done fucking nothing to you!" Matthew looked around before affixing on Dick, throwing his arms out to his side as if to say 'come at me'. The nerdy girl had fled. Maybe she was getting Ty or whoever the fuck was acting as security. Marshall? Dani herself- no, Dani was a little too prim and proper for uh, security shit. "What the fuck are you on about, Dali Llama? Do you not fucking know who Elvis is?"
Why couldn't someone just say "Hey, let's fight"? Something simple, instead of some cryptic bullshit like whatever the fuck he was saying? Matthew let out an aggravated huff.
“Only problem,” Dick said with a smug smirk, “Is your swamp breath up in my face. The pandemic is over—your ass can still be socially distant when it comes to me.”
This dude was so aggro after one comment? Matthew must've had hard muscles but thin skin.
It was just talk. It didn’t mean nothing. Richard just said it to say it. Something to be funny and who cares if it wasn’t? Why you so mad General HGH? Prolly because the best jokes had truth in ‘em and Matty looked like he was determined to prove Dicky honest. Richard wasn’t going to back down from the bigger boy. What was this dude’s issue? Big ol’ meathead couldn’t handle looking like a fool next to Big Dick Buster. A dumb ass was the person most likely to hate a smart mouth.
“Pop a tic-tac,” Richard’s blue eyes burned and his steps matched Matthew's, “Hike up your skirt,” drive-by insult, right in the his face, “And back the fuck off. ”
This dude was so aggro after one comment? Matthew must've had hard muscles but thin skin.
It was just talk. It didn’t mean nothing. Richard just said it to say it. Something to be funny and who cares if it wasn’t? Why you so mad General HGH? Prolly because the best jokes had truth in ‘em and Matty looked like he was determined to prove Dicky honest. Richard wasn’t going to back down from the bigger boy. What was this dude’s issue? Big ol’ meathead couldn’t handle looking like a fool next to Big Dick Buster. A dumb ass was the person most likely to hate a smart mouth.
“Pop a tic-tac,” Richard’s blue eyes burned and his steps matched Matthew's, “Hike up your skirt,” drive-by insult, right in the his face, “And back the fuck off. ”