The Stereotypes Project (UNDER MAJOR EDITING)

10. What Is It With You McCarthys?

What would Hal Jordan do?

That was my life's catchphrase, really. (Why? Because Green Lantern is awesome, that's why. And don't even try to tell me he's not as impressive as Superman. Look here, bro, Earth is the only thing that Red Undies protects, and the magnificent Green Lantern takes care of practically the whole galaxy. No offense to you, Clark, but we clearly see who's the winner here... Okay, now pardon me I'm going to run away from hundreds of screaming Super fans.)

But anyways, that was the question that practically solved all my life's problems. On my first day of kindergarten, when the teacher gave me an yellow star, I ran into the hallway, ripped off my shirt and screamed, "We will not subject to fear", and peed on the floor. Long story short, I got to stay home and play for another year while Kurt screamed his head off everyday at Demon Day Care, since apparently my parents thought I wasn't matured enough for kindergarten. And that's basically the story of how Hal Jordan saved my life. (Hmm now that I think of it maybe that's why my parents always thought I was less mature than Kurt... Or maybe it was because I demanded my teddy bear on the first day of middle school? We shall never know.)

So obviously, while Rhiannon freaked out about me going to a concert alone (she seemed to stress on this word a lot in our conversations) with Parker, I simply asked myself the question:

What would Hal Jordan do?

And the poster of him on the wall answered:

"Lol Charlie, you should totally chill. You're just going with that dude with funny hair, not anyone interesting, so just play Hay Day until it's time to go."

(Of course, the poster didn't actually say that. I don't have schizophrenia or anything, I was just giving myself advice through him. Wait, that still sounded crazy... You don't think I'm crazy right?)

So that's how I ended up online farming when it was only... Hmm... 15 minutes until it's time to go.

What? It's addicting, okay?

I was just in the middle of collecting eggs when I suddenly heard a sound outside the window.

Tap.

My finger froze above the screen. The cheerful Hay Day soundtrack suddenly sounded terrifyingly bone-chilling. Oh crap. This was exactly what happened in horror movies. The protagonist was doing something totally innocent and fun when she noticed something strange... And you know what happens next.

Tap.

But this was real life. I was not some dumbo in a horror flick. I was Charlie McCarthy, and I knew exactly how to solve this problem. Years of watching Supernatural had prepared me to deal with this ghost. I shall set this soul free.

Tap.

And so I did the only logical thing I could think of.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I grabbed the can of rock salt I always kept in my drawer (what? You can never be too safe. I did not want to be one of those people in the first 40 seconds of Supernatural, alright?), emptied the whole can down my window, and flung a hardcover book through too, you know, just to make sure it was something other than a ghost.

And then I heard a scream. A really girlish one, to be exact. And I heard glass shattering as my window broke into pieces.

The few seconds of utter silence that came after felt like hours. (Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit. There was still the Hay Day soundtrack playing in the background, and some kid next door was blaring some song from the Top 4o. Pffft, so mainstream.)

When I slowly peeked through my lids, however, there wasn't any ghost. Or a mass murderer. Or any creature from Supernatural, or any other movies, for that matter.