ARReSTeD DeVeLOPMeNT - 𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

08 || bull- i mean dill pickle. whew.

Hey, Dad.

I've called you and you haven't picked up. I'm at your house and you aren't. At least just let me know you're alright. I'm getting worried.

Also, please tell me where my old boxes are if you know.

Thanks,
George-Michael

Sent from my iPhone

-
Life in Sudden Valley could have been better.

First off, the four of them – George-Michael, Maeby, Lindsay and Buster – were all stranded in the Sudden Valley home together with no means of leaving other than calling some sort of modern carpool service for a ride, walking, or stealing Michael's car (they would have done the latter but they couldn't find the keys). Second, Lindsay had decided she was at the top of the pecking order, claiming she was disabled and deserved extra respect because she was a woman with a sprained ankle. Buster had since been delivering her food from the refrigerator and changing out the ice on her foot whenever she asked him to while she sat on the couch and watched overrated talk shows with the volume up to 77. Even Maeby had to leave the room, and she was the least sensitive out of all of them to any sort of stimuli.

So she and George-Michael climbed the stairs and closed themselves in the quietest place they could find, which just so happened to be Michael's closet. They could still hear Wendy Williams, but at least it was less of a 77 to them and more like a 39.

"God, I'm so glad to be away from all that," George-Michael breathed in relief. "I mean, Aunt Lindsay's behavior was nothing new, but I really didn't enjoy how the television volume wasn't a multiple of five, and I guess that's just my own anxiety talking, but—"

"Hey, you thirsty?" Maeby, who gave zero percent of a shit, said suddenly, leaning back against one of the walls and shoving away the long shirt that had blocked her face from view. "There was wine downstairs. And I'm guessing the Stair Car won't be back for quite some time."

"He said he'd come back in a few hours," George-Michael replied, meaning GOB, not the car. "It's already been about two. It shouldn't be too long."

Maeby scoffed. "The bitch can barely even drive. Don't hold him in such high regards." She stood up and shoved the closet doors open, the television immediately escalating to a 58 in the closet as she prepared for her trip. "I'll be right back."

And then George-Michael was left alone in his missing father's closet with nothing other than his own thoughts to keep him occupied. This really wasn't helpful, either, because his mind wandered back to people comparing him to rats, and then even further back to the last time he and Maeby shared a bottle of wine.

It was then that he realized that this was a terrible idea.

"Hey, Maeby," he yelled over Wendy Williams' voice as his cousin ran back into the closet with a bottle of wine and two cups. "I think this might not be the best idea."

"Oh, lighten up," Maeby replied, pouring a glass for each of them and passing him one. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Remember when we were younger and did something quite similar to this and ended up making out all night?" George-Michael asked, to which Maeby merely scoffed and waved a hand in dismissal.