Nightmare Central [2b/?]
anonymous
July 2 2009, 10:06:16 UTC
Gilbert sent a sly look over his shoulder. "She likes me."
"Yes, and I'm the Queen of France." Francis replied, through chortles.
"With all the prancing you do around? I wouldn't be surprised." Gilbert snapped back.
"You're just jealous of my beauty."
"If that's what you call beautiful, I don't want to know what you call ugly."
"What are you talking about, mon petite chou? You see it everyday when you look into the mirror!"
"Guys!" Antonio cut in, before the tension rose further. A fight in the parking lot was okay. But a fight in the classroom? Torches and pitch forks. And a lot of angry parents.
Gilbert and Francis shot each other a glare, before huffing and turning away. Ludwig rolled his eyes. He sometimes wondered if he lived in a backwards sort of world where the older you get, the more immature you become.
But taking stock of his new classmates, Ludwig saw about ten or so counter-arguments disproving his theory.
Namely, the boy in the blue, red, and white spandex.
"Why did I let you dress yourself?" A man, Ludwig assumed to be the boy's father, groaned. He had a sour scowl on his face, and the largest, fuzziest eyebrows Ludwig had ever seen. Were they alive? OH! He just saw one move!
"What?! What's wrong with my Captain America costume? It's cool isn't it? It's only the greatest outfit ever!" The boy stood firm, stomping his foot.
"You look like a bloody wanker." His father replied. "Look, if this is a call for attention, I'm sorry work's been busy lately. But the grocery bills have been off the charts!"
"And I'm okay with that, you go do your thing dad! I'll be fine!" The boy assured.
"You are certain?"
"Dad! I'll be okay! I'm the HERO! And heroes don't have daddies worrying over their shoulder. Just go already!" The boy was using physical force this time. Pushing at his father's legs, trying to get his father to move.
"If you ever get into any trouble, don't hesistate to call me okay? My cellphone is always on! If you want me to pick you up early, just ask the teacher and--!" The father reminded, halfway to the door now. His son must've been pretty strong to manhandle an adult like that.
"Dad! Just. GO!" The boy gave one final push before being satisfied with his father's distance. "Iloveyou!Seeyouafterclass!Bye!"
And in that rush tumble of words, the boy waved a fond farewell. Returning back into the fray that was a large dogpile of kindergartners. A hand was sticking out from under the moving hill of children.
A frazzled little boy was tugging at said hand. His hair in a bowl-cut, with eyes squeezed shut behind black-framed glasses. He was screaming, "LAAAAAAATVIAAA!"
"Yes, and I'm the Queen of France." Francis replied, through chortles.
"With all the prancing you do around? I wouldn't be surprised." Gilbert snapped back.
"You're just jealous of my beauty."
"If that's what you call beautiful, I don't want to know what you call ugly."
"What are you talking about, mon petite chou? You see it everyday when you look into the mirror!"
"Guys!" Antonio cut in, before the tension rose further. A fight in the parking lot was okay. But a fight in the classroom? Torches and pitch forks. And a lot of angry parents.
Gilbert and Francis shot each other a glare, before huffing and turning away. Ludwig rolled his eyes. He sometimes wondered if he lived in a backwards sort of world where the older you get, the more immature you become.
But taking stock of his new classmates, Ludwig saw about ten or so counter-arguments disproving his theory.
Namely, the boy in the blue, red, and white spandex.
"Why did I let you dress yourself?" A man, Ludwig assumed to be the boy's father, groaned. He had a sour scowl on his face, and the largest, fuzziest eyebrows Ludwig had ever seen. Were they alive? OH! He just saw one move!
"What?! What's wrong with my Captain America costume? It's cool isn't it? It's only the greatest outfit ever!" The boy stood firm, stomping his foot.
"You look like a bloody wanker." His father replied. "Look, if this is a call for attention, I'm sorry work's been busy lately. But the grocery bills have been off the charts!"
"And I'm okay with that, you go do your thing dad! I'll be fine!" The boy assured.
"You are certain?"
"Dad! I'll be okay! I'm the HERO! And heroes don't have daddies worrying over their shoulder. Just go already!" The boy was using physical force this time. Pushing at his father's legs, trying to get his father to move.
"If you ever get into any trouble, don't hesistate to call me okay? My cellphone is always on! If you want me to pick you up early, just ask the teacher and--!" The father reminded, halfway to the door now. His son must've been pretty strong to manhandle an adult like that.
"Dad! Just. GO!" The boy gave one final push before being satisfied with his father's distance. "Iloveyou!Seeyouafterclass!Bye!"
And in that rush tumble of words, the boy waved a fond farewell. Returning back into the fray that was a large dogpile of kindergartners. A hand was sticking out from under the moving hill of children.
A frazzled little boy was tugging at said hand. His hair in a bowl-cut, with eyes squeezed shut behind black-framed glasses. He was screaming, "LAAAAAAATVIAAA!"
Ludwig blinked at the scene. Yep. This was weird.
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This is awesome!!! I can smell epicness in this! F5F5F5F5F5~~~~~~~~
Do NOT stop! XD
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