I Bust the Windows out Your Car ~ Book Two of MT Trilogy ~ BEING EDITED SEVERELY

Chapter Thirteen

Hey guys, here is chapter thirteen. I hope you like it cause I had some gun writing this.

Next chapter I'm going to give you guys an Ian/Stella chapter because I haven't written anymore a long time. I'll try and make that one longer, but don't expect much. :/

Love Ya<3

~Sam

Chapter Thirteen

Josh and I really didn't feel like doing anything after supper.

We were planning on going to the movies, but nothing good is playing right now so we decided against it.

"What do you want to do?" I whined. My head hung off the couch, while my feet were kicked up to the top.

"I don't know. We could play video games, but you only have one remote." Josh replied.

"Hey, I never expected you or Flynn to be living with me for a long period of time." I defended.

"Sorry." Josh said.

"It's alright." I reassured. I sat back up straight and walked over to my computer. "Let's listen to the radio." I said cheerfully.

Once it came on Pumped Up Kicks by Foster The People started blaring.

"Robert's got a quick hand. He'll look around the room, he wont tell you his plan. He's got a rolled cigarette

hanging out his mouth. He's a cowboy kid." I danced and sang along to the song while Josh just sat on the couch watching me intently. I swayed my hips around and just belched out the lyrics.

"Yeah! He found a six-shooter gun in his dad's closet, with the box of fun things. I don't even know what,

but he's coming for you. Yeah, He's coming for you!

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

Daddy works a long day. He be coming home late, and he's coming home late. And he's bringing me a surprise.

'cause dinner's in the kitchen and it's packed in ice

I've waited for a long time. Yeah the sleight of my hand is now a quick-pull trigger. I reason with my cigarette, Then say, 'Your hair's on fire, you must have lost your wits, yeah?'

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

(Run, Run, Run, Run. Run, Run. R-Run, Run, Run. R-Run. R-Run, Run, Run. R-Run. Run, Run. Run, Run. Run, Run, Run.)

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, outrun my gun. All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.