Miss Bad Idea

#NightmaresAreMadeOfThis

#YouCan'tSpellFuneralWithoutFun and #TheseRosesAreForMeProject were the two most trending hashtags when we decided to do a get-together to analyze the @MissBadIdea account. Of course, we kicked off the trend secretly, of course. Oh, shit, I forgot to introduce myself. It's not like I need to, but I'm Taylor W. herself. Miss me? Anyhow, these hashtag things symbolized our dearest Olivia's memorial. The theme was chaos. Because, remember, dying in a really fucked-up way doesn't make you Mother Theresa. Although she was kinda bad too, but you get it. Olivia Marilyn Presley was not a good person. So her funeral won't be good either. The plan was to wreck it. Everyone will bring a rose, as she wanted everyone to bring one to put in her casket and then keep it. Then, everybody is gonna make a speech about how little she meant for them. Or how much, in a negative way. When the school decided to sing Dolly Houston or Whitney Parton's "I Will Always Love You," we would sing "I Will Always Loathe You." Basically, making the damn thing into a party. Like her parents care. I don't even know if they will attend.

Ok, but back into the subject at hand. The impersonator-probably-serial-killer-Instagram-account. So, according to he/she/they/it is Olivia motherfucking Presley. Her bio says and quote "Who killed me, bitches?" Threatening to say the least. I know what's going on, I've seen the seven seasons of the hit-show, record-breaking and continuity mess, Pretty Little Liars. This bitch is a wannabe A that clearly wants us to figure out who killed Liv. Or else we die, you know, the regular high school experience. This was not the plan. We were totally going to have a bitchin' year until a serial killer that wears a surprisingly stylish flower dress and a clown-ass mask decided to target us. Until it made the first post "It's all fun and games till somebody get's killed #NightmaresAreMadeOfThis." What was more interesting was the photo that came along with it. A photo of Olivia before she fell down the stairs. Dead. This means the killer or at least an accessory was where we were when Liv fell. It's really now looking well for my friend, Athena. If I recall correctly they even had a catfight about it in the school library, I think they said:

Athena P (anxiously fast): Guys, I swear, I didn't do it.

Rosé R (angry, yet quiet): I don't give a nut! We have to take this to the police.

Athena P (angry and loud): Smart idea, not suspicious at all.

Rosé R (quiet and fast): Ok, sure, but when they find this, and eventually, the fact that we know it's gonna be worse, ever heard of withholding important information from the police? It's a crime; you should read a book once in a while.

Athena P (confident): I think you have the wrong idea of me, honey. Furthermore, you only know that because your girlfriend's dad is a cop.

Rosé R (annoyed): Get lost.

Athena P (angry as she leaves): Get fucked!

Taylor W (following Athena): I'm hungry; let's go to Taco Bell!

See what I did there? I'm a theater girl. And a cooking one: I plan to be the Miss World with the most Michelin Stars. Fifty, to be exact. And land the lead role in a new, praised theater production written, produced, and composed by me. I might be retarded, and I get that, but I am very creative. You know how many people there were in the Cooking Extracurricular before I joined? 300, and I know there's 350. But considering this is a small Manhattan town and the class was available for all former students, I think I had a hand. Morveux is a rocking place to live. It has the charm of the suburbs and all the glam of TriBeCa a few miles away. I don't know the meaning of Morveux or even how to pronounce it, but I know it's French. Probably. Ok, enough about me, although I know it's never enough. I'm currently front row at the bitch's funeral, and I have to pay attention. The rant you just heard? Yeah, that's me distracting me from this boring ceremony. I think they said something about God, but believe me, she ain't going to heaven, and neither am I.

With a rose in hand, Athena was going to make the last speech. Let's have a live reaction, 'cause shit's getting good:

"She was a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, and a student at Willowood Preparatory." Ok, this was way too nice. What about the plan? She's going to fuck everything because she's afraid to be deemed a killer? How immature of her!

"Not like she was really good at any of those things." Better.

"I want to congratulate whoever did this to her; I wish it were me who did it. Judging by all y'all's words, it's a shared sentiment. Ok, let's get this motherfucking party started!"

And everyone in their mother cheered. Everything was a success.

Reyes came up to me and Athy after the speeches and song. "Was that really necessary?" she asked.

"Um, hell yeah," I responded.

Athena joined in: "Look, if we didn't do something that everybody else did, we would be suspicious. Like, "Why didn't Athena say something bad about the bitch?" If you know what I mean.

"I mean, I didn't like her either, but I think this is enough. The poor girl was killed; think about her parents," Reyes said, clearly trying to be the voice of reason.

"Girl, her parents are celebrating in the Glory Pon Tou right now." I had to step into this girls' fight. Again

"You know... the GPT?" Athena had to say as Reyes looked real confused.

"Like the AI?" Reyes said.

"No, the Glory Their Pain Cruise. It goes all the way from New York to San Francisco and then a fight to Las Vegas. It has everything you would ever want, so it's not really boring really. One day I will go too." I said. "Let's enjoy the party!... I mean the funeral!"

"I'm gonna get more ice or something," Reyes said as she left.

For the record, I am not entirely sold on what happened when she went for the ice or something, but something did happen. Maybe she can explain that to us next time.

xo, Taylor.