.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
|
So okay I guess there was some sort of petition going around signing me up to be some kid’s mentor. No big deal, right? Big whoop. I’m definitely a suitable role model for your little future convict seeing as my hygiene is always on point, my language is totally G rated and I know a thing or two about collateral damage. Which, really, is what childhood is all about. I guess. I think. Anyway, I don’t see it at first, being so tiny and all, whizzing its way toward me. There was still a persistent itch on my ass-cheek because thistles are awful if you accidently roll around in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong cheek (this is not a time for judgment so shut your awful mouth). I was backing into my ass-scratching tree, sighing a little bit with the slight sense of satisfaction I had gotten from the exhilarating demolition of tiny trees. And it was then that I heard it coming—not see it, but heard it, and it was definitely something to hear. *"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"* WHUMPH. The ground shook underneath me and the water splashed everywhere; I felt pebbles ‘n shit shoot painfully into my legs; I looked behind me and my ass scratching tree was falling sideways, at least three times as thick as the one I had felled myself, the dirt around the roots having shot everywhere in a flurry of deep brown earth. I stumbled forward, away from it, but it was falling away from me, creaking all the way down as it did, cussing out someone who turned out to be the smallest fucking thing I had ever heard or seen in my entire life. Had I ever been that small? *"AWWWWW YISSS. MUTHA. FUCKIN'. EXPLOSIONS."* Had I ever had that mouth?! The answers were yes because I will never not be short in my life and I was probably only big as a minute when I was just freshly gross-birthed; and no, but that was only by default since I didn’t actually…talk as a child. Which is probably why I was so shocked by this thing that ambled toward me, all kinds of fire and spunk, because the mirror that was held up to my eyes was disorienting, a fun-house bastard of a reflection if I ever saw one. The memories were pouring into my head faster than I could process them, the memories of energy and excitement that I had all but forgotten. But I hadn’t had the power to explode the motherfucking earth when I was little and I certainly didn’t have the type of courage to scream at strangers and compare blast radiuses like they were our junk so I kinda stared down at this teeny-tiny scrawny booger of a thing and I didn’t really have much of a game-plan so I just— --sorta, um…dropped the ball. “….the fuck are you?!” I screamed at a child. |
the Rift
|
[OPEN] Nostalgia Critic
|
|||
 Please tag ROSKULD in every reply! | |||
|
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
|
| Messages In This Thread |
|
Nostalgia Critic - by Roskuld - 01-06-2015, 03:19 PM
RE: Nostalgia Critic - by Shida - 01-06-2015, 03:38 PM
RE: Nostalgia Critic - by Roskuld - 01-08-2015, 04:07 PM
RE: Nostalgia Critic - by Shida - 02-01-2015, 07:03 PM
RE: Nostalgia Critic - by Roskuld - 02-15-2015, 01:25 PM
|
