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.