Four bad boys, Ayden, Hayden, Brayden, and Okayden, try to form a school club to learn how to fight their bad boy instincts, or succumb to cliches trying.
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When Ayden's six-pack ap...
I would give a pretty penny to turn this entire book into third-person omniscient narration just to see what's going through the mind of this poor, elderly priest whose Fiverr account is most likely run by his nephew just to get a few bucks and make ends meet, when a pair of weird teenagers ask him, in the middle of the night, to make holy water out of cans of LaCroix Pure.
"Is...this is for real?" says the priest through the phone, adjusting his stereotypical round glasses that go with his stereotypical round, bald head.
"Dead serious, padre," I say, putting my elbows on the table in the most intimidating way I can. "We're having a bit of an emergency here, a matter of life or getting buttmunched, so if you can move your magic wand and do your magic..."
"This is not how it works, young man," says the priest. "Holy water is one of the most powerful tools for cleansing, protection, and blessing. One does not simply wave a 'wand' and says a few words and makes it."
Okayden grabs the phone and flips it to face himself like one would do to a perp tied to an office chair and we really need him to tell us how to get into the boss' safe. "Use your magic, sir, And I will add an extra, Twenty bucks, you dig?"
The priest goes quiet for a second — I wonder if he was a bad boy in his past life — before giving his answer. "Make it 30, and leave a positive review. At least 50 words."
"Deal," I say, flipping the phone towards me. "Now, get to blessing." I place the phone in front of the cans, tapping one of them on top. "Chop chop, padre. Time's running out."
"Eh, is there, you know, actual water in these?" says the priest. "This works better with water, being the water part in the holy water."
"Don't worry, padre. This thing is the biggest racket in the soda industry. Just pure carbonated water, no sugar, no calories, nothing. Just water. LaCroix Pure, more like, pure bullshit. Pardon my french."
"Okay, then, if you say so," says the priest. He takes out a silver cross and waves it around a few times. "Swiggity-swolly, yet water's now holy. Done."
"Wait, is that all?" I ask.
"Well, you say you were in a hurry," says the priest. "Anyways, I have mass tomorrow. 30 bucks. 50 words review. Move it, muchacho. May God be with you."
And with that, he hangs up. Live long and suck it, padre. Wait, that's Star Trek. Same difference.
"Will this plan work well? I have a lot of questions, And lot less answers," says Okayden, picking up a can and tossing it to the air before catching it like a badass.
"It will work," I say. "Maybe. It's our only chance. But only if you do as I told you."
"If you say so, bro," says Okayden. "Just get those pretty feet ready, For me to fiddle."
I don't like the tone he used to say that, but whatever. I already crossed the Rubicon. I'm knee-deep in this. I took the first step. Okay, I don't have any analogies that involve anything other than feet or legs, sue me.
What's the plan, you ask? Well, wouldn't you like to know, book boi? You have to read on to find out!
Also, this ark is already 6 chapters long and I'll like to wrap this up. So yeah, let's get on with it.
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