Talent Is Subjective || Camp Camp Fanfiction ||

Chapter 5: Ayo, Let Your Father Know (Part II)

TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING: (Brief) Implied Su1c1dal Ideation; Implied Child Neglect and/or Abandonment (Past);

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"This is fucking stupid," Max says, scrubbing the window angrily and grumbling under his breath.

Alas, the kids had gone on a pretty good 'turf war' for a while... until the Quartermaster got out of the kitchen. Fucking bastard. Anyway, this stupid bitch of an old man made them all scrub the motherfucking windows, and now Max is way more pissed off than before because stupid fucking Quartermaster's got a hook-hand and they can't fucking overthrow anyone again.

He usually tones down on the curses and cussing. But when he's pissed, and also mentally thinking of the vulgar language... yeah. No limits.

Besides, it's not like he'd go up to the Quartermaster and say it to his face anyway. That'd be a real 'oopsy' of a move, and definitely not the way he plans to die.

(Death has to be quick and painless. He plans on leaving this hellhole known as Earth by kicking the bucket as soon as possible, whether he has to do the job himself or not. Makes things easier, ya know?)

(Well, that's what his aunt said once. When another aunt of his kicked the bucket.)

"Real fucking stupid," Neil repeats, nodding his head and bringing Max back to the present. The boy starts scrubbing his towel into the window, feeling it cling on in some places and hearing the glass squeak. "I would suggest rebelling, but after last time..."

"Oh, cheer up, you two!" Nikki says as she uses her tissue paper towel to clean up some spilled orange juice, some of the tissue pulp attaching to a few silver stickers she had stuck on the ground. Ineffective, but Max trusts that the Quartermaster knows how easy it is to torture them. "It's not that bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Nikki." Neil grouches, earning a raised eyebrow from the girl. "It's your fault I have to clean the mashed potatoes, and that Max has to clean your goddamn stickers from the window. Bitch."

"Yikes! Someone's crabby," She exclaims, wincing as she stretches her face to show an expression of... whatever the fuck, Max doesn't know. He's no fucking English major or whatever. Nah, that was his mom's thing. Fuck that. "Harrison did that job for you anyway, Neil. You guys are being weird. Do you want a sticker to feel better?"

Nikki produces another silver star sticker from seemingly nowhere, and Max groans. God, this means he's going to have to clean it up if she gets it on the window again. Fuckin' hell, Nikki. "No." He says in sync with Neil, moving away from it like he was repulsed.

Well, he was repulsed, actually. The stickers looked like something you'd see in a Cocomelon short.

(...He doesn't watch that, okay? It's just that if any cousin he has gets bitchy, he has to deal with the aftermath. And the aftermath always ends in him sitting down with a child and being force-fed Cocomelon content. He's not a fucking iPad kid, alright?)

"Yeesh. Sorry." She shrugs, rolling her eyes and obviously not being very sorry. "Just tryna lighten up the mood, ya know?" She cracks a grin, stuffing her packet of stickers back in her pocket.

How'd she even get that anyway? Eh, probably Dolph. The kid didn't usually share— actually, fuck, Max would say he even gets territorial over his art supplies sometimes. But maybe Nikki was just nice to him.

Not like he would know or anything. In case you haven't noticed, he's not really a nice person.

"Hey, I just remembered that we locked Gwen out," Neil pipes up, and Max sits up straighter to look around. Maybe if he squints hard enough, he'll see a bitch called Gwen walking around and smirking at their hard work, because she isn't the one having to do that.