Pranks, Pajamas and Pretty Bad Puns

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I'm on a seafood diet. Every time I see food, I eat it.

It’s April 1st.

It’s frickin’ April 1st.

Holy mother of chicken nuggets, it’s April Fools Day!

I have so many pranks planned for today. I can cover Connor in green slime. I can treat Layla to cat facts and I can change Alyssa’s contacts to Harry Potter characters.

I feel invincible. I feel like Superman. I feel like-

“Get out of my fucking way!” A voice sneered behind me. I spun around to see Austin glaring at a kid.

“Sorry,” the kid whimpered, as he tried to look away from Austin’s glare.

To put it easily, Austin was a bully. A big fat stinking bully. He had his gang of stupid dumbasses that followed him everywhere. He was worse than Freya. The b*tch who sucked a chair leg.

“Go suck a garbage truck!” Austin hissed at the poor boy. I looked around and saw no one helping him out.

Pranks and bullying are two totally different things. Why couldn’t anyone acknowledge that?

Besides me.

I walked forward and poured the can of soda in his hands all over his head. It trickled down his face and down his body. I smirked.

Austin looked up at me and glared. “Look guys, it’s Clumy Charlie!”

I furrowed my brows and pressed my lips in a thin line. Excuse me?

“Any new guys that you hooked up with recently? Oh, or maybe you swing the other way?” He smirked, wiping a bit of soda from his forehead.

I gritted my teeth together and looked at him. “F off,”

“Oh, is that all you can think of? Poor Charlie,” he sneered.

“Shut up,”

“Aww. Oh Charlie! You’ve got a little fat on your stomach! You better go on a diet. Oh’re skinny as fück,” he hissed.

“I’m on seafood diet. Every time I see food I eat it,”

“Suck a trash can,” he growled.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t really want to suck you,”

“Shut up,”

“Awww. Is that all you can think of?” I frowned. Before he could answer, I pushed past him and out of the hallway where I was met by a bucket of slime pelted on my head.


“I’m not wearing that!” I said, a pure look of disgust on my face.

I was currently sitting in the Gym office because I was drenched in slime. I mean come on! And I was being forced - forced - to wear a set of boys’ Pajamas.

This is so sad.

“I’m never touching that fucking thing!” I said, scrambling away from it.

Don’t swear, Lottie, I hear my grandma say in my head.

“Huh, you’re right grandma,” I said, smiling happily.

“Excuse me?” Mrs Phat Ho says as I smile weirdly at her.

I shook my head and furrowed my eyebrows at her. “What?”

“You just called me your grandma,”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say, lightly. “I was talking to my grandma,”


“In my head, silly!”

“Er....right? Anyway, you’re gonna have to wear those.

“I would rather die than wear those, Mrs Phat Ho,”

“Really?” She grinned.

“Really. I’m never ever in the whole universe wear that and there is nothing you can do about it!”

Okay. I look like a pumpkin.

I looked down at the bright orange Pajamas covering my body right now.

So, I ended up wearing the Pajamas. Do you know how this could affect my social life?

Social life? You mean the social life that’s just as non-existent as the brain cell in your skull?inner me says.

What are you talking about? I have a social life!

Honey, the last time a guy talked to you in the mall, you went all Yoda style on him.

What? He was cute! And he said that I had nice eyes!

Sure, sweetie.

“UGH! I will kill me, Charlotte!”

"Are you okay, Charles?” Alyssa asks me as they take a seat next to me in the cafeteria.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF LESBIANS ARE YOU WEARING!?” Alyssa screams as she eyes my outfit.

I give her a nervous smile. “I kinda got drenched in slimy goo,”


I laughed. “I asked Jackson t be my tutor yesterday,”

“I heard he once catapulted someone to Australia!” Layla said, joining in our conversation.

“I heard he had sex with a cactus,” Alyssa said.

Ouch! Wouldn’t that hurt? Like imagine Jackson Anderson humping a cactus. Wouldn’t his.....dingaling get sore? Imagine having a sore dingaling for the rest of your life. Imagine if your dingaling became a cactus.

Damn I wouldn’t like to pee.

“I have a six pack....” I said, randomly. Alyssa and Layla gave me a solemn look. “...of Sprite at home!” I laughed falsely.

“Are you British?” a random girl asked me. For some ‘heck knows why’ reason, the whole student population stopped talking and put all their attention on me and the random girl.

I mean, my hair is all wet.

“Why do you say that?” I asked her sickly sweetly.

“Well, for starters, British people put ‘love’ in every sentence. They also love tea and the weather in England is really bad,” she said.

“I am British but love-” I slapped a hand over my mouth.

“You can’t just believe stereotypes. This is reali-tea-” was all I could mange to say before slapping my hand over my mouth again.

“Yes, she is British. She even has a British accent that sexy as fuck,” Alyssa covered for me.

“I don’t have a British accent! I have an English accent. Because Britain has Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales and England. I am from England and I have an Eng-”

“She’s English,” Layla smile sweetly at the girl. The girl have us a confused look before walking off to her friends.

“Pfffffft. She can’t tell the difference between British and English accents. There basically no such thing as a Bri-” I rambled on. Alyssa and Layla facepalmed as I looked at them in confusion.

“You know, these Pajamas are really uncomfortable,” I added.

“Wait uffff!” I yelled as I dragged my feet towards the bus. My hands were flying around all over the place and my face looked like those faces in cartoons when they’re running.

I’m always late for the bus. It’s like luck and me are natural enemies. Like I didn’t know about the banana peel I accidentally dropped on the newly cleaned floors in the school corridors. I ended up getting a 10 minute detention for it.

A reason for why I’m running like a brainless cactus to catch the bus.

“Wait, do cacti have brains?” I asked, stopping myself on the road, grooming my nonexistent beard.

No,inner me says.

“I’m pretty sure they do,” I smiled to myself. I shook my head and started running again.“Wait uffff!” I cried as I jumped on the bus. I flopped onto the floor and started kissing the floor of the bus. I looked up to see the whole population of the bus looked at me again. I sighed.

“Oh come on! You guys act like you’ve never seen a 17 year old mentally disorientated girl running for her life to catch a damn bus and then starts kissing the ground in happiness!”

They gave me a weird look before returning to their conversations.

Huh, maybe they haven’t.

Nah, who am so kidding? I’m pretty sure everyone does this these days. You know, back in the day we’d onl-

“You’re definitely one of a kind,” a voice said behind me, interrupting me of my conversation with myself.

“I know right,” I smiled, cockily. The guy came forward and and held out a hand.

I frowned and stared at his hand. Do I shake it? Do I punch it? Do I slap it with a cactus?

Gotta stay away from cactuses.

Or is it cacti? What if it’s cactu?

“Is the plural of cactus, cactuses, cacti or cactu?” I burst out at the guy. He shook his head and smiled at me.

I took my time to study him. He has nice brown eyes and slick black hair. He was pretty tall. Around 6′2" or something. He was wearing a grey V-neck and some low hanging jeans. Not low enough to show off his underwear. I hate it when guys show off their underwear. I mean, you don’t see me parading around with short skirts, now do you?

Oh wait, you do.

“Done checking me out?” He smirked.


His eyes widened in surprise. “Yup, you’re definitely one of a kind,” he smiled.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Jesse. Jesse Taylors,” he smiled. “And you?”

“The name’s Bond. James Bond,”

He laughed. Damn, he had a nice laugh.

“You have a nice laugh,” I said out loud. He smirked as my face looked constipated again.

“And you, Charlotte, have a nice smile,”

“How the fudge cake do you know my name?” I asked him.

“Charlotte Ridgewood. Your father’s a legend, ya know?”

Oh right.

Is it me, or is this some serious déjà vu?

“Ha ha...yeah...” I trailed off.

“So, where are you headed?” He asked, his eyes glistening with curiosity.

Oh right, I took out my phone and showed him an address. “I need to get to this address. Any help?”

“I live in this apartment! I’m just a few floors beneath you,”

My eyebrows climbed up my forehead. “Really! That’s great!”

And then, I died.

Haha just kidding, I tore off Jackson’s dick.

Just kidding. Honestly, you guys are so gullible.

In fact, I did something more exciting.

Girl, what’s more exciting than tearing of Jackson’s dick?

I went to my brothers apartment.

Where I asked a complete stranger for help.

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