The Shitshow

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"so, lemme get this straight," says Brayden, grabbing his leg and pushing it up while sitting to look more interesting, like a dad getting serious when his fantasy football game is losing. Maybe if they spec less on ball throwing and more on fireball casting, they would win a fucking game or so.

"The only thing straight,

You have are your shoelaces,

You featherless dove," says Okayden, not moving his head up from the book he's reading. Something about scissors and how not to run with them. Looks fascinating.

"bitch, i have a daddy!" yells Brayden while leaning in. "i ain't like you, you sonovabitch! get it? cuz you mom a dog!"

"My dad is the dog!

And I said 'featherless,' you bitch,

Not fatherless. You scrub."

Hayden steps between the two, pushing them gently apart, or as gently as a bull in a Target store during black friday can be, which means none at all. I think Brayden got whiplash from the shove.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Hayden, putting a hand on each of their respective shoulders. Shoulder slut! "What's with you two? You're on some kind of enemies-to-lovers arc?"

"as if!" yells Brayden, trying in vain to swat Hayden's mystery-meat surprise hand away, which is about as effective as gnat trying to headbutt a lion away. "scooby-douche here's just mad that i forgot to invite him in the night of the wedding and had to sleep under a tree while we were warm and cozy inside. which, newsflash, was totes unnecessary. you could've just knocked on the door!"

"Newsflash, you dingus,

Door's blessed with holy water,

You catholic fuck!"

"then, you could've called me!"

"I fucking did it!

And you hung up on me, bro!

Like, thirteen times, dick!"

"well, i don't answer calls! ever! you could've messaged me or some shit!" yells Brayden, with extra spittle. Please feel free to splash your face with water for a more enhanced reading experience

Okayden raises two of his monstrously huge and pointy fingers—which, coincidentally or not, are his middle fingers. "My Fingers are big!

I can't fucking type for shit,

You all forgot me!"

Hayden grabs the two of them, and just like a kid with dolls learning how mommys and daddys make babies, smash them together in a forced hug. "You two should get a room and just fuck the tension out of it."

"I wanted a room!

Hell, a cupboard would've sufficed

But no. A sad cold."

A loud 'Kya" thunders behind us like a Gregorian chant choir that only sings anime music jumps as a gaggle of Broopies jump out of the bushes. Kinda forgot to tell you that we are outside by the entrance. That's just poor world-building and spacing on my part. Kinda like how I'm forgetting to add that all the broopies in this particular gaggle have animal ears like a basic TikThother. Their leader, a feisty redhead whose name escapes me but surely has an L thrown in there pipes up by pointing at us rudely, like only a soulless ginger like her could do.

"I knew it! Says the girl," says the girl in third person. Wait, is she being the narrator in her own story. "The brave redhead points and laugh, her belly chortling with glee. See, Kymanthera? I told you that the best ship for our lord and savior Okayden is none other than Brayden Messina-Park. He has the best feet in the school, after all. Okaybray is real!"

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