Wrong Number, so sorry!

Nicknames! Fun!

Good morning/evening/middle of the night-ing! Here is another chapter of this story (ik I'm so good at writing these authors notes)...

Peter lay in bed in his room, resting his leg while it healed. He had managed to get ahold of Ned the second time, and fixed up his leg. It was a shoddy job, but it would do.

He was bored. He couldn't go outside because Aunt May would be mad at him if he wasn't home when she got home. And she wouldn't be protective-mother kind of mad. She would be lock-him-in-a-closet-like-harry-potter-and-not-feed-him-for-three-days kind of mad. Of course, she might just abuse him anyway, even if he did nothing wrong. It depended on what kind of day she was having.

But anyway, Peter was bored. And so he decided to text his new friend (he felt they had gotten pretty close last time they talked).

Peter:

Hey

*** *** ****:

Kid! How are you? How's your leg? I still think you should've gone to a hospital. I haven't heard from you in 3 days where have you been???

Peter:

Sorry sir! I was busy... with school and stuff. But my leg is fine like i said it would be. I'm bored.

*** *** ****:

Aren't we all. But it's a Wednesday so you must have homework, why don't you do that?

Peter:

The homework took me 5 seconds. School is boring. And easy. Life is boring. I'm bored.

*** *** ****:

Well I have a fun game! How about I give you complicated math problems and watch as you fail to solve them?

Peter:

I have an even funner game! How about you give me complicated math problems and are shocked into silence by my amazing genius-ness.

*** *** ****:

Kid, kid, kid, kid, kid.
Game on.
[insert complicated math problems that I don't know because i am not a genius]

Peter:

[insert solutions to complicated math problems that i dont know because i am not a genius]
Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

*** *** ****:

What the fuck kid, how did you solve those?

Peter:

I told you. I'm a genius.

*** *** ****:

You're good, I'll give you that. A lot of the people I work with wouldn't be able to solve those.

Peter:

That's sad...
OOOOOOOOH OK I HAVE AN IDEA

*** *** ****:

OOOOOOOOH OK WHAT IS YOUR IDEA

Peter:

WE SHOULD GIVE EACH OTHER NICKNAMES!!!!!

*** *** ****:

Sure, yours will be 'Kid'

          *** *** **** renamed *** *** **** Kid

Peter (or Kid):

And you shall be dubbed...
Weirdo 1

    Kid renamed *** *** **** Weirdo 1

Weirdo 1:

Why? Why would you do that? Do i act like a weirdo?

Peter:

Well
1. You do act like a weirdo, yes.
B. You said you live with a group of weirdos. So you are weirdo 1. The weirdest of them all.

Weirdo 1:

Definitely NOT the weirdest of them all.

Peter:

Whatever you say. But...
Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the weirdest of them all?
Oh look at that the magical mirror told me it was you!

Weirdo 1:

If you're seeing a magical mirror talking to you, maybe you should go to a hospital. Or since you don't like hospitals, maybe try a homemade remedy and go whack yourself on your head with a newspaper.

Peter:

I get whacked on the head enough as it is, i really don't want to cause more of it.

Weirdo 1:

Wait hang on...
What do you mean you get whacked on the head? Who's whacking you with newspapers?

Peter:

Nobody! Did i say people were hitting me? Nope! Im all good over here. Oh did you see that thing outside your window? How about that?

Weirdo 1:

Kid, you have to work on your distraction tactics.
Who's hitting you? More than one person????

Peter:

No!
It's just the usual. Bullies. All that jazz.

Weirdo 1:

I will find these bullies of yours and will show them no mercy!

Peter:

No it's fine! Anyway, I have to go. My aunt is home.

Weirdo 1:

Ok kid. But I'll be watching you. Or... I'll be here waiting for you to text me...

Peter sat up quickly and listened as Aunt May trundled through the apartment. His enhanced hearing picked up what she was muttering under her breath, and... well, she was NOT in a good mood. Fantastic.

Maybe if he stayed out of the way...

"Boy! Come here,"A loud, harsh voice called out. Aunt May sounded how Peter suspected a butchering knife would sound if inanimate objects could talk.

He walked towards her, head down.

"Make me dinner!"

Peter complied. He knew not to talk now, so he silently started cooking a simple meal. Though he knew May would have some horrible task prepared for him, he couldn't help but smile slightly. He was glad to have MJ and Ned. If he didn't then he probably would've broken down years ago. And Weirdo 1 was his friend now too.

I honestly spent so much time trying to come up with nicknames for them. It's hard!!! Jeez.