When River woke up to rake up the mess made in their garden, it was already early-mid morning which was bright and awash with wispy clouds with a faint chorus of birds, which were probably artificially produced by Karen's mega sound system on the 7th floor.
It gave her a sense of tranquil, she'd explain. It's a violation to the humble working class-actually-singing birds that swept the shit from Capitalist birds, scraping away their entire life due to jobs lost to automation, Tiffany would argue.
The morning after the garden concert, the garden was fucking trashed. This didn't bother River because even though they had specifically hired a garden band to tend to their vegetation, they were currently lounging in the garbage dumpsters attempting to cook garbage ratatouille from scraps of poisoned, dead rat.
These thoughts were thunk by River as he whistles the Skechers song while spraying water on every vegetative being within five feet of him. He noticed there was delicate dew that had formed on the garden plants, that were far too yellow to actually be dew. He ignored that and continued watering plants and also Chelsea. It was hard to distinguish her from the grass when she was wearing green herself, running into the garden with certain purpose this early at mid-morning.
"What the fuck, River?!" a very agonized Chelsea yelped at him before hurling piss covered plants at him which she somehow managed to uproot in 10 seconds. River squeals and drops the hose, spraying the both of them even more. Grabbing the hose, Chelsea begins chasing after River, her drenched bag and shoes forgotten on the garden path.
"Stop it bro," River pants loudly dodging her fifth attempt at shoving the plants up his nostrils, "I'm allergic to pea." he pleads helplessly. Chelsea grunts triumphantly and, throwing the plants onto his ninth ab, kicks him one final time in the nuts and goes to leave.
The glinting (or rather, the lack of) of the diamond fountain makes her stop in her tracks. "River," she breathes out, "isn't that your dad's most prized fountain?" making River look up in surprise as this was the first time Chelsea had said his name not following it with a declaration of war.
"What about it?" he asks rising from the ground and dusting dirt off his SpongeBob pajama pants. Chelsea is saved from answering this question when River gasps horrendously and attempts to faint in her arms, making her screech and push him away in disgust.
"Argh noooo" River moans, "It was Dad's favourite diamond, who would do this??" he sobs, beating his fists into the ground. The diamond that was in the fountain yesterday, was gone today. Chelsea looks up when she hears someone approaching them from the gate connecting the mansion to neighbouring smaller mansion.
Tissue paper in hand, Riley was marching towards them with a determined expression on her face. "Hello," she announces, "I am here to help clean your wounds, River." she says, and upon receiving a look of relief from Chelsea, begins checking his temperature with a thermometer she produced from a mini-first aid kit.
Chelsea rolls her eyes and turning around, begins walking toward the kitchen door. She ended up sprinting eventually, because who thought it would be a good idea to have a 420 sq. metre garden. Riley follows her, dragging River along in one hand and carrying the first aid kit in the other.
YOU ARE READING
The Billionaire's Hair
Teen Fiction"With fame and money comes a lot of things, but your fallen hair is not one of them." - Sun Tzu probably. Ernest Michaelson is your average middle-aged man. Launching a successful career in game theory and revered as the man who overthrew Skynet in...
