You won't even understand the chaos it was when we got home.
I'm not saying what was happening inside the house.
No.
Not at all.
Inside of the house was the sane and normal thing about this whole situation.
The inside was a safe haven.
A safe haven full of potato salad.
The issue was the outside of the house.
And what I mean by that is what happened as soon as Connor parked the car in the driveway.
"No you motherfucking ain't bitch," I say, pushing my way in front of my ridiculous excuse for brothers.
I just wanted some damn potato salad.
But NO.
My brothers decided it would be fun to stop me from entering the house.
The house was full of the beloved potato salad.
Oooooh, the soft warm potatoes with mayo, egg, and seasoning.
DAMN
Sexier then most men could dream of.
But this little fucking cunts had to block my fucking way into the house.
"Come on Ky, get through." Arden teases, jabbing me in the ribs.
"Ky Ky can't move to get her food like a fatty." Jayden giggles with a childish grin.
"Oh, poor chubs can't get her food." Connor pouts mockingly.
I roll my eyes as I do religiously.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I'm laughing so hard that I'm crying. See these tears of joy running down my face? Oh, you can't? Because you're all fuckwitts and you're all not funny for shit." I say frustrated.
I seriously just wanted my damn potatoes.
And they knew I did.
ARGH
Satan children.
They giggle like little fucking girls, thinking that they're the funniest human beings in the fucking world.
In the middle of their laughter, my annoyance turns into a visible grin.
Then into a smirk.
And not just a smirk.
An evil smirk.
A very evil smirk.
They make eye contact with me. Then look at themselves and then back at me.
They visibly gulped. And not even subtly.
'And at this moment. They knew they fucked up.'
I quirkily but powerfully punched then in the balls one person at a time.
The nut sacks.
The baby makers.
They all groan in pain. And I take my opportunity to sprint inside the house, dropping my bags and shuffling off my shoes before they could get their shit sorted.
Once I've done that, I sprinted like a motherfucker into the kitchen we're all of my family were finishing setting the table.
I could hear the other three behind me as I run past their chairs, pushing them to the ground to make it harder for them to get the potato salad first.
YOU ARE READING
The Final Touchdown
Teen FictionI stop, huffing and puffing after finishing my 20 laps warm-up of the field, finishing first. "Hi everyone my name is Coach Woods and welcome to Football tryouts." Yells Coach as we run back into the center of the field were his standing. Being the...
