Pranks, Pajamas and Pretty Bad Puns

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I'm no photographer, but I can picture us together

“You look like a demented giraffe,” I commented as Alyssa looked at my depressed state.

“What did a giraffe ever do to you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at my grumpiness.

“Well, for starters they humped in front of my own bare eyes,” I grumbled, annoyed at the world for being alive. I mean there could have been a great nuclear explosion that demolished the human race

No more Sandra.

My life would be complete.

We were all in the cafeteria and I felt like an old hag who’s just found out their electricity bill is higher than the price she auctioned for a pair of thongs.

Okay, maybe not that mad.

“Well, who lit the fuse on your tampon?” Alyssa asked, giving me a knowing look.

“My farthole of a stepmother, that’s who. Her and her stuck up slag of a daughter are visting us for a family dinner tomorrow,”

“Oh, that retard,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey,” I said, lightly punching her on the shoulder. “That’s rude. You’re comparing her to someone who’s mentally handicapped,”

“Whatever. You know I don’t mean it,” she shrugged off.

“Hey, Charlotte,” a voice I knew too well said.

“Hey, Sandra,” I groaned.

She skipped over and sat down on a seat. Connor and Layla gave her weird looks as Alyssa flipped her the bird.

“Guess who hooked up with Gabriel Jenkins yesterday?” She squealed.

Where did I go wrong?


“What a wonderful day!” I smiled as I skipped to my seat in the classroom.

It was the first day of school and what was better than being a complete loner with a perverted smile plastered on your face?


I skipped over to my desk and leaned back, resting my legs on the desk with my hands behind my neck.

This year was going to be perfect!

As long as I don’t meet a person called Sandra. All Sandra’s are annoying. Sandra is such a weird name. It sounds like your made out of sand. Sand-ra. S-andra.

What a weird name.

Suddenly, the door flung open and a girl walked in. Must be the new student everyone’s talking about.

She walked down the classroom until she and to me. She looked at me and smiled.

“Hi! I’m Sandra!”


My life makes a lot more sense now.

“HIS DICK WAS SO BIG!” Sandra screamed from beside me, losing me from my weird thoughts.

The whole cafeteria was now looking at us.

“What are you all looking at? Go back to your own pathetic little lives,” Alyssa hissed, bitterly.

“Yeah, mind your own business!” Layla chirped in.

“You guys should go get a life off Ebay. I heard they’re have a half price sale!” Connor added.

The cafeteria all shifted their eyes to me.

“I’ll take a double chocolate ice cream in a cone, covered in sprinkles with a hint of chocolate sauce,” I said. They all looked at me blankly. “Actually, make that a lot of chocolate sauce,”

They still stared.

“Wait. We’re not buying ice cream?” I asked, scratching my head.

“No,” my friends dead panned.

Well, okay then...

“I mean, yeah bullying is so illegal!”

They stared again.

“We’re not talking about anti-bullying?”


“I mean, yeah, Voldemort is such a loser!” I booed.


“We aren’t talking about criticising You-Know-Who?”

“God, Charlotte, you’re hopeless,”

“Why are you wearing pajamas at school?” Leo asked, looking at my exquisite attire.

“Pffft. You’re just jealous you can’t rock sleepwear the way I do,” I said, tilting my head up to the sky, arrogantly.

“You’re crazy,” he added.

“So what if I’m crazy? The best people are,”

It was last period and my clothes were itching the nipples outta me so I went to the P.E department and asked for new ones but Mrs Phat Ho gave me pajamas again. But I have to say, I look like one smoulderingly sexy fajita.

By that, I mean a complete loser who has no motherfriggin curves at motherfriggin all!

Meh, I don’t too bad.

You should see me when I wake up in the mornings.

I was bored so took out my phone and scrolled through the daily news.

Yes, I read the news.

I’m not aspiring to be like Sandra.

I looked down into the screen.


Justin Bieber run over by a minibus.

• Donald Trump assassinated by newborn

• Ridgewood’s visit Banterlot city for business trip.

It took all my might not to click on the article about Donald Trump’s assassination or Justin Bieber’s death. I clicked on the article about my parents and how they were visiting Banterlot tomorrow for a meeting. They were going to stay in Caleb’s apartment with us and Travis would arrive the next morning.

When my dad is in business mode you are in business mode.

When my step mother is in business you are in business mode.

When you are you business all hell breaks loose.

Who knew people ate food with forks? I thought they were only for burning.

“Miss Ridgewood, pay attention. I know you’re on your phone because seriously no one looks down at their crotch for that long,” Miss Hastings, our history teacher said.

“Sorry, Miss,” I smiled, sickly.

“Anyway, as I was saying. The whole of senior year is going to go on a historical trip to London to see all it’s historical landmarks, like the Battle of Hastings for example,” Miss Hastings said.

Was that a pun or...

“Pun not intended,” she added, quickly.

“We’re going to London?” I asked.



The class sat silently.

“One question,” I said, calming down from my ecstatic attack. “When are we going?”

“In two weeks time. A few weeks before the Science Games,”

Oh yeah.

The stupid Science Games.

“You’re home early,” Madeline, my brothers wife, said as she dusted the shelves.

I closed the door and dumped my stuff on the sofa. “Yeah, my teacher said to have a good day,” I said. Madeline rose an eyebrow. “So I went home,” I finished.

Madeline shook her head.

“I’m just joking!” I said.

Madeline stopped dusting and gave me knowing look.

“My teacher’s too mean to tell me to have a good day,” I joked.

“Anyway nitwit, Caleb’s friend is coming over in a few minutes so you should get ready,”

“I’m fine like this,” I said. Madeline looked over my clothes.

I looked down and saw the pajamas I was wearing. I ended up getting a stain from somewhere, though I’m sure I haven’t been near a liquid since like lunchtime.

There was also a rip around the arm area which I’m sure was caused by the god damn air.

“Okay, maybe I do need to change,” I smiled, sheepishly.

“Ya don’t say,” Caleb said, walking into the room, scrunching his eyes in disgust at my exquisite attire.


Okay, my hair is brushed.

After about ten furious attempts to keep my hair looking neat.

Well, I can tell you, my hair looked like a damn lion’s den.

After, I was ready I went downstairs. I could hear voices from the other side.

“My younger sister, Charlotte, will be down soon,” I heard Caleb say.

“Ah, haven’t ever met your sister before,” a deep, husky voice replied.

I stepped into the room nervously and all the attention was in me.

“Hello,” I waved, sheepishly.

“Hi,” that sexy voice replied.

I looked up to see the finest face in all of earths glory.

He’s not as hot as Jackson.

Shut up!

“Wow...h..he...hey....I love you!” I blurted out.

The deep voiced guy chuckled.

Well, damn, I’m no photographer but I can picture us together.

God, he’s making me make up stupid lines.

“Marry me?” I asked, absent mindedly.

“Of course, m’lady,” he chuckled again.

“I haven’t introduced myself, I’m Lee Anderson,”

“Aren’t you the middle child of Richard Anderson?” Madeline asked.

Oh yeah, my father and Jackson’s father were arch enemies in the company business.

“Yup,” he said.

“Wait, you’re Jackson Anderson’s older brother?” I asked, quizzically.


“He lives next door,” I burst out.

His eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yes. And is Noah Anderson you’re older brother?”


God, I know all of the Anderson children now.

“So, anyway, is that marriage proposal still standing?” He smirked.

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