Peter and I Like Rainy Days, part 3 (Xara POV)
Godiva smiled widely as she continued to sew that scarf. "Of course. He needs to be punished as much as possible for throwing the lamp into the TV. Only a spoiled brat does that sort of thing!" she said as she sewed more quickly to show her frustration with her son.
"But MOM!!! I already have hives from the dust and my eyes are watering. I can't even see!!!!" Peter whined.
"Peter, you are being absolutely childish! Dust exists all around us, and you're making a big fuss about your eyes watering. Real men push past the pain and do the job," Jamie said as he wheeled away in aggravation.
"Yes, Peter. You are being childish. I'll agree with your dad on that one," I said as I started moving objects off the furniture.
"Xara! You're not helping!" Peter whined as he sniffled. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed the last part quietly to himself.
"Technically, I'm not supposed to anyway," I said in a sing-songy voice as I moved the objects on the tables. "But since I'm nice, I'm helping you."
He whined and starting dusting under the objects. "This is YOUR job," he said as he pouted.
"But you're the one who threw the lamp in the TV," I said in a cheeky manner as I continued to rearrange the nick nacks on their furniture.
"But you're the one who LAUGHED at me throwing the lamp into the TV," Peter said as he mocked me.
"Because it was FUNNY," I said as I mocked him mocking me.
"It was until the TV broke," Peter said with a sigh as he dusted. He coughed.
"All right, Peter. Time to take a break," Godiva said as she put the scarf down that she was sewing.
"Woohoo!" Peter said as he went to wash his face in the guest bathroom.
Godiva and I smiled at each other.
"I have an idea of how to continue your son’s punishment," I said with a huge smile on my face.
“Oh please tell me!” she said with delight.
“I’m going to rearrange his office first, and then I’m going through all of his drawers to rearrange everything. I’m going to drive that man INSANE!” I said before I started laughing like a villain in a cartoon series.
“What’s so funny, Xara?” Peter asked as he walked toward me with his arms folded over his chest.
“I’m going to rearrange your office!” I announced as I started moving all of his nick nacks on the floor and then moving the furniture in a fashion that made no sense. I put a lamp on the floor and put an end-table on the couch. Then, I started moving his exercise equipment around and putting it on its sides.
“AAAHHHHHHH!!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY LIFE?!” Peter screamed as he pulled at his curls in hysterics.
“Destroying it!” I screamed as I rearranged all of the items on his desk before I decided to also move the desk. I even knocked over a few pens and pencils.
“HOLY SHIT! STOOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!” Peter screamed as he frantically tried to put his things in order. “Please stop! You’re literally destroying my soul!”
“That’s the whole point!” I shouted as I tore his notebooks apart and put the pieces of paper UPSIDE DOWN on his desk.
“GODDAMMIT, STOP! STOP STOP STOP!” Peter then started chasing after me.
I laughed and started running around the house while spraying his papers with Pete’s Liquid Gold.
Peter was really pissed off now. I looked behind me to see him snorting like a bull and really chasing me. He was grunting noises and literally said, “KAJDKHGFCHGLOHGODHGDOIGKHBLKDFHGKDHGLDHGODSJUGODFJG!!!!!” He was gritting his teeth, and his eyes were red with rage. I could have sworn there were reptilian slits in them.
I was cracking up hysterically as I ran through the house and started dust mopping ahead of me.
“What on Earth?!” Godiva shouted as she was sewing her scarf.
“Slow down, you two! You’ll live longer!” Jamie called.
Tug ran toward Peter before seeing his face and him screaming swear words in odd combinations such as “FUCKASS NINJA BITCH CUNT SUCKERCOCK!” and “STOPMOTHERFUCKINGDOINGTHATCUNTTHINGBITCHASSNINJATWATCUCKSUCKERTITSHITPISS!!!” Tug then turned at a 90-degree angle and opened the door. (Yes, Tug knew how to open doors.) And he ran the fuck out of there.
“GODDAMMIT TUG GODDAMMIT XARA FUCK YOU TWO!” Peter screamed as he started running out the door to get Tug. “Get the fuck back here you fucking basenji bastard! Help me kill Xara. Sic her!”
I then fell on the floor in Jamie and Godiva’s room and started laughing hysterically. I was literally rolling on the floor like a burrito. I was crying laughing and soon, no sound was to be heard from my mouth. I was coughing, laughing with no sound, and trying to catch my breath. That was the single most hilarious, funniest thing that had occurred in the history of time ever.
When I was able to breathe again, I got up and started to dust mop the floors, clean the bathroom, and of course rearrange anything that Peter owned. I was only just getting started in destroying the fabric of Peter’s sanity.
Peter walked in the house with a loud and long sigh that lasted for 30 seconds while he had Tug under his left arm. The earth shattered beneath him.
“Jesus Christ you can sigh,” Tug said. “Can you please put me down? I positively am thirsty from running away from your crazy ass.”
“You’re not the one I’m mad at Tug,” Peter said as he set down Tug and huffed and puffed toward me. “IT’S YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU HAVE SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROYED EVERYTHING THAT WAS GOOD AND DECENT IN MY LIFE. YOU HAVE RUINED MY WRITING AND ART CAREER. YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IS YOUR GODDAMN FAULT. EVEN TRUMP’S EXISTENCE IS YOUR FAULT RIGHT NOW!” Peter yelled and yelled and yelled.
“You’re the idiot who broke the TV,” Jamie pointed out.
“THANKS, DAD! ALL SHE DOES IS LAUGH AT ME AND CAUSE ME PAIN AND SUFFERING. I WISH SHE WOULD JUST DIE ALREADY!!!!!” Peter screamed and waved his arms around frantically.
“Well, that’s why I am keeping her. As much as I disagree with her laughing at the fate of our TV, I do agree that she should cause you pain and suffering as a result of you destroying the TV,” Godiva said calmly.
“What the fuck, Mom? I thought you of all people would be on my side!” Peter shouted.
“No. You’re not on Trump’s side, so you’re not on our side!” Godiva said.
“Is it really that bad, Peter?” Jamie asked.
Peter started shouting obscenities and even started speaking fluent German, Irish, Scottish, and Chinese as he walked around the house and swore some more.
As I was rearranging the rug in his office before I went in his room and took the clothes out of the drawers in his bedroom, put them inside out, and refolded them BACKWARDS before putting them BACK in the drawers, I was laughing my fucking ass off. My abdomen was getting a proper workout from laughing at Peter’s walking and swearing and walking and swearing.
Peter walked over to me, smiled widely, took the pair of underwear that I was holding, and grinded his teeth before he said, “I am going to fucking kill you. I’m going to chop you in 31,000 pieces and bury them in separate holes in separate places in separate toilets in my separate fucking yard.” He stood over me and smiled ear to ear.
I held my breath and started laughing hysterically before hugging him tightly.
“I’m fucking serious,” he said through gritted teeth. “I wish I were holding a knife because I want to cut your throat so fucking badly right now.”
“But you’re not holding a knife,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and looked at him with a big smile. I continued laughing.
“You fucking should fucking wipe that FUCKING smile off your fucking face right fucking now,” Peter said as he stared at me with a big fat fucking smile. He reminded me of Neal Page in “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” (1987).
I started laughing hysterically before I looked at him and asked, “Do you have a rental agreement?”
“No! I threw it away… when my fucking car wasn’t in the fucking spot in the fucking car lot,” Peter said with gritted teeth as he pushed me off of him violently. He was getting ready to roundhouse kick me.
I took a hold of his leg and stared at his face before saying, “You’re fucked.” I held on to his leg.
He drew his leg down and then knocked me down with it. “I don’t THINK SO!” he said as he leaned over me menacingly.
“Good point. Kendrick isn’t over here to fuck you,” I said as I made a reference to his girlfriend.
“She will be ONCE I get my life back in order THAT YOU DESTROYED!” Peter shouted at me. “Now get the fuck out of my room before I absolutely KILL YOU!”
“You won’t kill me. You’re a nice boy,” I said as I took the pillow case off his pillow, turned it inside out, and then put it back on the pillow in its inside-out state.
“Nope. You killed him,” Peter said as he threw me on the bed and started choking me.
I was losing air before I looked at him. I wanted to laugh, but I was choking too much. I wasn’t mad at him or anything because I had this coming. I’ll have to admit that I went a little too far. I was holding onto his wrists as I tried to let him choke me.
“Peter!” Jamie called.
“WHAT DAD?!” Peter called.
“I dropped my pillow on the floor, and your mother is hard at work at sewing! Come pick it up!” Jamie called.
Peter growled, sighed for 10 seconds, and let go of me. “Goddammit!” he muttered as he got off me and left.
I took a deep breath, cracked up, and then continued to mess with his room. I emptied all of his drawers of everything except of the articles of clothing I folded inside-out and backwards. I even put pencils and pens chaotically in the drawers. I continued folding the clothes inside-out and backwards. I ended up putting some of the clothes under the rocking chair in his room. I even made his bed inside-out and backwards after flipping his mattress over.
Peter came back in the room and literally screamed. “YOU FUCKING WENCH! DIDN’T YOU LEARN THE FIRST TIME!?” He lunged at me. He ended up on top of me and started tickling me. “You dumb bitch! Your job is to clean up, not fuck up my entire life WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU MY PARENTS SHOULD HAVE YOU FIRED!”
“You heard your parents, Peter. Your parents actually agree with this form of punishment I’m giving you,” I said as I was laughing and squirming underneath him.
He growled and continued to tickle me. “I will tickle you until you piss yourself. You will regret destroying my life. I can pay for a damn TV as long as Trump stops existing! I can’t WAIT FOR THAT MOTHER FUCKER TO BE IMPEACHED. I will never regret destroying an image of that toupee-wearing, oompa loompa, reptilian, handled, fat, pompous, arrogant, self-centered, spineless, dickless, cheap, lying, no-good, dirty, blood-sucking, brainless, bugged-eyed, worm-headed, rotten, dog-kissing, heartless, stiff-legged PIECE OF MONKEY SHIT! HALLELUJAH! HOLY SHIT WHERE’S THE TYLENOL!?”
"But MOM!!! I already have hives from the dust and my eyes are watering. I can't even see!!!!" Peter whined.
"Peter, you are being absolutely childish! Dust exists all around us, and you're making a big fuss about your eyes watering. Real men push past the pain and do the job," Jamie said as he wheeled away in aggravation.
"Yes, Peter. You are being childish. I'll agree with your dad on that one," I said as I started moving objects off the furniture.
"Xara! You're not helping!" Peter whined as he sniffled. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed the last part quietly to himself.
"Technically, I'm not supposed to anyway," I said in a sing-songy voice as I moved the objects on the tables. "But since I'm nice, I'm helping you."
He whined and starting dusting under the objects. "This is YOUR job," he said as he pouted.
"But you're the one who threw the lamp in the TV," I said in a cheeky manner as I continued to rearrange the nick nacks on their furniture.
"But you're the one who LAUGHED at me throwing the lamp into the TV," Peter said as he mocked me.
"Because it was FUNNY," I said as I mocked him mocking me.
"It was until the TV broke," Peter said with a sigh as he dusted. He coughed.
"All right, Peter. Time to take a break," Godiva said as she put the scarf down that she was sewing.
"Woohoo!" Peter said as he went to wash his face in the guest bathroom.
Godiva and I smiled at each other.
"I have an idea of how to continue your son’s punishment," I said with a huge smile on my face.
“Oh please tell me!” she said with delight.
“I’m going to rearrange his office first, and then I’m going through all of his drawers to rearrange everything. I’m going to drive that man INSANE!” I said before I started laughing like a villain in a cartoon series.
“What’s so funny, Xara?” Peter asked as he walked toward me with his arms folded over his chest.
“I’m going to rearrange your office!” I announced as I started moving all of his nick nacks on the floor and then moving the furniture in a fashion that made no sense. I put a lamp on the floor and put an end-table on the couch. Then, I started moving his exercise equipment around and putting it on its sides.
“AAAHHHHHHH!!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY LIFE?!” Peter screamed as he pulled at his curls in hysterics.
“Destroying it!” I screamed as I rearranged all of the items on his desk before I decided to also move the desk. I even knocked over a few pens and pencils.
“HOLY SHIT! STOOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!” Peter screamed as he frantically tried to put his things in order. “Please stop! You’re literally destroying my soul!”
“That’s the whole point!” I shouted as I tore his notebooks apart and put the pieces of paper UPSIDE DOWN on his desk.
“GODDAMMIT, STOP! STOP STOP STOP!” Peter then started chasing after me.
I laughed and started running around the house while spraying his papers with Pete’s Liquid Gold.
Peter was really pissed off now. I looked behind me to see him snorting like a bull and really chasing me. He was grunting noises and literally said, “KAJDKHGFCHGLOHGODHGDOIGKHBLKDFHGKDHGLDHGODSJUGODFJG!!!!!” He was gritting his teeth, and his eyes were red with rage. I could have sworn there were reptilian slits in them.
I was cracking up hysterically as I ran through the house and started dust mopping ahead of me.
“What on Earth?!” Godiva shouted as she was sewing her scarf.
“Slow down, you two! You’ll live longer!” Jamie called.
Tug ran toward Peter before seeing his face and him screaming swear words in odd combinations such as “FUCKASS NINJA BITCH CUNT SUCKERCOCK!” and “STOPMOTHERFUCKINGDOINGTHATCUNTTHINGBITCHASSNINJATWATCUCKSUCKERTITSHITPISS!!!” Tug then turned at a 90-degree angle and opened the door. (Yes, Tug knew how to open doors.) And he ran the fuck out of there.
“GODDAMMIT TUG GODDAMMIT XARA FUCK YOU TWO!” Peter screamed as he started running out the door to get Tug. “Get the fuck back here you fucking basenji bastard! Help me kill Xara. Sic her!”
I then fell on the floor in Jamie and Godiva’s room and started laughing hysterically. I was literally rolling on the floor like a burrito. I was crying laughing and soon, no sound was to be heard from my mouth. I was coughing, laughing with no sound, and trying to catch my breath. That was the single most hilarious, funniest thing that had occurred in the history of time ever.
When I was able to breathe again, I got up and started to dust mop the floors, clean the bathroom, and of course rearrange anything that Peter owned. I was only just getting started in destroying the fabric of Peter’s sanity.
Peter walked in the house with a loud and long sigh that lasted for 30 seconds while he had Tug under his left arm. The earth shattered beneath him.
“Jesus Christ you can sigh,” Tug said. “Can you please put me down? I positively am thirsty from running away from your crazy ass.”
“You’re not the one I’m mad at Tug,” Peter said as he set down Tug and huffed and puffed toward me. “IT’S YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU HAVE SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROYED EVERYTHING THAT WAS GOOD AND DECENT IN MY LIFE. YOU HAVE RUINED MY WRITING AND ART CAREER. YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IS YOUR GODDAMN FAULT. EVEN TRUMP’S EXISTENCE IS YOUR FAULT RIGHT NOW!” Peter yelled and yelled and yelled.
“You’re the idiot who broke the TV,” Jamie pointed out.
“THANKS, DAD! ALL SHE DOES IS LAUGH AT ME AND CAUSE ME PAIN AND SUFFERING. I WISH SHE WOULD JUST DIE ALREADY!!!!!” Peter screamed and waved his arms around frantically.
“Well, that’s why I am keeping her. As much as I disagree with her laughing at the fate of our TV, I do agree that she should cause you pain and suffering as a result of you destroying the TV,” Godiva said calmly.
“What the fuck, Mom? I thought you of all people would be on my side!” Peter shouted.
“No. You’re not on Trump’s side, so you’re not on our side!” Godiva said.
“Is it really that bad, Peter?” Jamie asked.
Peter started shouting obscenities and even started speaking fluent German, Irish, Scottish, and Chinese as he walked around the house and swore some more.
As I was rearranging the rug in his office before I went in his room and took the clothes out of the drawers in his bedroom, put them inside out, and refolded them BACKWARDS before putting them BACK in the drawers, I was laughing my fucking ass off. My abdomen was getting a proper workout from laughing at Peter’s walking and swearing and walking and swearing.
Peter walked over to me, smiled widely, took the pair of underwear that I was holding, and grinded his teeth before he said, “I am going to fucking kill you. I’m going to chop you in 31,000 pieces and bury them in separate holes in separate places in separate toilets in my separate fucking yard.” He stood over me and smiled ear to ear.
I held my breath and started laughing hysterically before hugging him tightly.
“I’m fucking serious,” he said through gritted teeth. “I wish I were holding a knife because I want to cut your throat so fucking badly right now.”
“But you’re not holding a knife,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and looked at him with a big smile. I continued laughing.
“You fucking should fucking wipe that FUCKING smile off your fucking face right fucking now,” Peter said as he stared at me with a big fat fucking smile. He reminded me of Neal Page in “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” (1987).
I started laughing hysterically before I looked at him and asked, “Do you have a rental agreement?”
“No! I threw it away… when my fucking car wasn’t in the fucking spot in the fucking car lot,” Peter said with gritted teeth as he pushed me off of him violently. He was getting ready to roundhouse kick me.
I took a hold of his leg and stared at his face before saying, “You’re fucked.” I held on to his leg.
He drew his leg down and then knocked me down with it. “I don’t THINK SO!” he said as he leaned over me menacingly.
“Good point. Kendrick isn’t over here to fuck you,” I said as I made a reference to his girlfriend.
“She will be ONCE I get my life back in order THAT YOU DESTROYED!” Peter shouted at me. “Now get the fuck out of my room before I absolutely KILL YOU!”
“You won’t kill me. You’re a nice boy,” I said as I took the pillow case off his pillow, turned it inside out, and then put it back on the pillow in its inside-out state.
“Nope. You killed him,” Peter said as he threw me on the bed and started choking me.
I was losing air before I looked at him. I wanted to laugh, but I was choking too much. I wasn’t mad at him or anything because I had this coming. I’ll have to admit that I went a little too far. I was holding onto his wrists as I tried to let him choke me.
“Peter!” Jamie called.
“WHAT DAD?!” Peter called.
“I dropped my pillow on the floor, and your mother is hard at work at sewing! Come pick it up!” Jamie called.
Peter growled, sighed for 10 seconds, and let go of me. “Goddammit!” he muttered as he got off me and left.
I took a deep breath, cracked up, and then continued to mess with his room. I emptied all of his drawers of everything except of the articles of clothing I folded inside-out and backwards. I even put pencils and pens chaotically in the drawers. I continued folding the clothes inside-out and backwards. I ended up putting some of the clothes under the rocking chair in his room. I even made his bed inside-out and backwards after flipping his mattress over.
Peter came back in the room and literally screamed. “YOU FUCKING WENCH! DIDN’T YOU LEARN THE FIRST TIME!?” He lunged at me. He ended up on top of me and started tickling me. “You dumb bitch! Your job is to clean up, not fuck up my entire life WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU MY PARENTS SHOULD HAVE YOU FIRED!”
“You heard your parents, Peter. Your parents actually agree with this form of punishment I’m giving you,” I said as I was laughing and squirming underneath him.
He growled and continued to tickle me. “I will tickle you until you piss yourself. You will regret destroying my life. I can pay for a damn TV as long as Trump stops existing! I can’t WAIT FOR THAT MOTHER FUCKER TO BE IMPEACHED. I will never regret destroying an image of that toupee-wearing, oompa loompa, reptilian, handled, fat, pompous, arrogant, self-centered, spineless, dickless, cheap, lying, no-good, dirty, blood-sucking, brainless, bugged-eyed, worm-headed, rotten, dog-kissing, heartless, stiff-legged PIECE OF MONKEY SHIT! HALLELUJAH! HOLY SHIT WHERE’S THE TYLENOL!?”