AAH. I hate that damned dancing paperclip. BratPookie is still shaking its wings off, I think. It loves me. Usually.
[Friday night. TV blares I Love Lucy. Kitty huddles over currentPookie.]
Kitty: come ooooon, brat, connect, do it do it do it do it do it!
Pookie: *busy signal*
Kitty: *death shriek* Noooooooo!!
[Pooh comes home.]
Kitty: You rotten bastard! *sneeze*
Pooh: Uh, who are you talking to?
Kitty: Yer mama was a drunken Mac!
Pookie: *busy signal*
Kitty: I hope your motherboard bloats!
Pookie: *snarl*
Kitty: Waaaaaah! *throws tiara at phone*
Pooh: Umm…I’m just going down the hall to call…my mom….um.
Kitty: I hate you! *sneeze* You wretched little whore! Listen to your mother when she’s blowing her nose at you! *snort*
Pookie: *meep*
Kitty: No, you have to BEG forgiveness.
Pookie: *blat*
Kitty: Don’t talk *sneeze* back to me, spawn. Just do it or I’ll make Chibiusa ALL your system sounds.
Pookie: *klunk*
Kitty: ohmygod *hysterical scream*
Pooh: Uh. Are you all right?
Pookie: *connects*
Kitty: Yessssss thank you GOD now I can put off the sacrifice until next week when I have a clean knife! This one’s all over pink cheese and peanut butter. *looks at Pooh* Weren’t you going somewhere?
Pooh: *runs*
Punkie comes in a week six days twenty-one hours and twenty-five minutes.
After the end of next week, the semester will be a third over.
I wonder if someday I’ll regret wasting my whole late adolescence being glued to a Pookie waiting for it to be finished.
Probably not.