He nuts one-hundred dollar bills

23 2 3
                                    

                                 Heyyyy

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.



                                 Heyyyy

I hate to be that annoying ass author but before we begin I want to thank you for taking the time to read this story! This chapter might be a little long since it's the start of a crazy rollercoaster so bear with me please. If you end up enjoying, be sure to give it a vote and comment what you think!

Also, keep in mind this was written when Pokémon Go was lit sooo with out any further ado

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


Also, keep in mind this was written when Pokémon Go was lit sooo with out any further ado ...






"I'm home motherfuckers!"

             I slammed the door behind me, suddenly being greeted with a rush of wind. Cigarette contaminated wind, that is. Or maybe it wasn't the air, maybe it was me. Most likely the latter since I practically bathed in its nicotine or a marijuana filled aura daily. Yeah,
I didn't retain any information from health class in high school. It all came in one ear and out the next, considering my "death-wish" like circumstances.

             As expected, my mother came bustling into the grand foyer. Her lips did that thing whenever she got mad - curled up into a snarl fueled by anger plus other ugly things. And her quick feet that could've been mistaken for an army of soldiers heading for attack verified that. So, I braced myself for whatever she was ready to bitch about next.

            "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN," she barked out with that Puerto Rican accent slithering through her words. See, there were normal moms, crazy moms, and my mom. The woman who who didn't fall into neither category because she was Arkham Asylum psycho. This was the same lady who stole an in-riding lawn mower, cruised up to my elementary school, and threatened to run over the kids who had been bullying me. We ended up getting sued that day.

            I sighed, unintentionally coughing out a tobacco breath. The after taste was horrible, almost as worse as the permeating smell. Bringing a hand to calm the rumple of malfunctions in my lungs, I managed to reply, "out."

Santa's Little Helper Where stories live. Discover now