Long Hard Road Out Of Hell (Marilyn Manson) ON HOLD

Posthuman

I ordered myself a cheese pizza with barbecue sauce and Manson a Might Meaty one. He'd come downstairs after around 10 minutes, telling me about the struggle he endured trying to get all the tiny noodles out of the slits in the floor boards. The pizza arrived not long after and Manson got a huge black fuzzy blanket that he draped over us once we sat down, which warmed up my constantly cold body pretty well. We watched some weird show about criminals in prison while we stuffed our faces and made small talk.

"So how did you find Twiggy?" Manson asked.

"I loved him. He's so approachable and really easy to talk to."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah." I answered.

"I'll tell him you said that," he said, nudging me. He'd formed a habit of doing that I can't say whether it annoys me or not. I guess if I end up scratching him the next time he does it that'll answer my question.

It was 9:07 when we'd finished and being the helpful person that I am, washed the dishes, even if it did chip my perfect manicure but who's bothered, right? Not me... Heh.

"Ugh, I can't be bothered to go back to school tomorrow," I complained as I collapsed over the back of the sofa, making my back click.

"Ow," Manson cringed. "That sounded painful. What that your back?"

"No it was my heart breaking at the thought of participating in social interaction and being force fed useless information when I could be learning how to actually achieve all the things adults expect of me."

"I used to hate school too, and I was stuck in Christian school, so if you don't like it imagine how I felt."

"Ah, I guess it'll be fine," I reassured him and myself, getting up and stretching my legs while walking around the room like a penguin. "I'll just follow in your footsteps and create a sex toy mascot and sell banned items like painkillers or phone chargers."

Manson snorted at my plan. "You're funny," he told me while chuckling giddily.

"I try," I said, spinning around.

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at me like I had three heads.

"I don't know. I'm bored and on a bit of a sugar high right now." I bent myself into a crab and started walking around like the girl from The Exorcist.

"How strong are you?"

"I don't know," I said shaking my head. "Pretty strong I guess. I work out a bit."

Manson went out into the dining room and dragged in a chair.

"C'mere," he motioned to me to stand in front of him so that the chair was between us. I flipped over into a hand stand and put my feet back on the floor to get out of the crab and stood facing him.

He knelt down so I copied him and he put his elbow on the chair.

"Oh no," I groaned, doing the same. "I suck at arm wrestling."

Manson just laughed and grabbed onto my hand.

"Ready?" He asked, his eyes glittering competitively.

"Uh,"

"Go!" I didn't even answer before he put all his weight onto him arm and pushed down, the force throwing my arm onto the chair, but also my body onto the floor.

"Ow, oh my God!" I shouted, getting up from the floor to see Manson laughing at me for the third time today.

"I am so sorry," he said as sincerely as possible while crying with laughter. His laugh was so contagious I ended up laughing with him until we were both on the floor, holding our stomachs and wiping our eyes. All my laughter suddenly went and I yawned really loudly.