B!+c#-Slap!! (Jayce)

Thank god that week ended, because our German shepard Cobly doesn't dig holes big enough in the backyard for me to bury Rayce (if I ever get serious about MURDERING him) and quite frankly, I have no intention of climbing into our rodent-infested garage for the shovel.

You know, just thinking of Rayce here.

 

"Rayce Quentin Leonard!" I bellow at the bottom of the stairs.

"Jesus-freaking-Christ, Jayce! What do you want!?" She says, rubbing his fakely-damaged eardrums.

I punched his shoulder (hard), "Don't use the Lord's name in vain."

"Ouch! Since when did we become Christian?" He asked, rubbing his bony bicep.

"Since we needed God's help to keep you undercontrol, child," I supressed a laugh, "Now what do you think I called you down here for?" I asked, tapping my foot and crossing my arms.

He ran a hand through his mousy brown hair and grinned, "To be a bitc-"

I slapped him, "DEADLY SIN! THOU SHALL NOT ATTACK A WOMAN, PHYSICALLY OR VERBALLY!"

"We just finished that chapter in History, Jayce- and that was not in the seven deadly sins. Or the movie." He protested.

"Seven deadly sins is a stupid movie." I countered.

He gasped, "How dare you!"

"You never answered my question!" I shouted.

"No, Jayce- I didn't steal your Tampax!"

"You are so annoying, Rayce!"

"Or your cond-"

"Don't even use that word in the house or Mom will release fiery hell on both our butts."

"Or your bras."

"What!"

"Or your Cosmo magazines."

"Shut up! Mom is gonna kill me!"

"Or your lingerie."

"I'm just fine with that one. I would have loved to see you walk out of my room with that."

"Yeah, me too."

"You never answered me, still!"

"Okay, what?"

"You left the sink dripping." I stated calmly.

"Ugh!" He walked over to the kitchen sink and slammed the knob down as hard as he could, "I stole your Tampax for this?"

 

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[A. V. Madison]

SORRY!! PLEASE IGNORE GRAMMARTICAL PROBLEMS!