My SpaceHey Kitten 2 Part 2: The Second One

Chapter 1: Bumpin That

Fuck my chungus life. I had opened my now official Batman tin lunch box to reveal the lunch Alfredo had packed for me. Overnight oats... not emo, totally prep style. YUCK!!!!!! He knew I hated overnight oats, unlike my parents, who did not know because they were dead. I was still an orphan because my parents died, meaning they were not alive anymore. They couldn't interact with me (unlucky) but also didn't have to interact with overnight oats (lucky). I was so nonchalant tho. The thought of it didn't bring a tear to my eye; I was just that cool. It would be super emo and dramatic tho if I did cry, but that was strictly reserved for the MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE reunion and Old Yeller. The dog was shot like my parents were (unlucky). If only I hadn't done parkour at age 8 and 5/12 like the sigma I was.

I had to satisfy my cravings somehow. It was a full moon after all, and my carnivorous urges, like Marilyn Monroe (my inspiration and personal hero), had to be tamed. There were only two places in Gotham that could help: Arby's and Subway. I needed the meats. I wonder if either had fresh liverughhhhhhh. I bet Subway did, plus I left my Arby's coupon at home. Gotham looked different... flooded, even. The local Arby's was still being rebuilt, but I couldn't remember what had torn it down. The only restaurants around seemed to be a chain of Subways; I guess Gotham needed to eat fresh. Hopefully Michelle Obama wasn't behind this since diet culture had no place in Gotham. I would lose my mind if just like in 2008, she made the lunches healthier and took the rubber compounds out of Subway's bread. My life would be ruined, just like that time my parents died or Alfredo didn't let me get the Roblox skin I wanted. It was all emo and cool. I bet dad would have let me get it. Too bad he's dead. I was an orphan. I walk through the eroded streets of Gotham, bumpin that. If erosion like this continued to happen over millions of years, around 6 million, and would carve out a canyon, a grand one even, but that was for places like Colorado, not Gotham. It was too emo like me.

I wasn't careful to not step on any cracks because my mother's back was broken when she was shot, kinda like how my heart was brocken when MCR disbanded. I am a child of divorce (MCR splitting up) and an orphan. God, my life was so hard. I pulled out my Rick Owens custom wallet. It was soooooo Opium squad, but it didn't really matter because I had ten of them at home. And pulled out a measly $10,000 dollars cash, leaving a footprint in the past as I walked into the future (Subway dining room).

I clenched by fist, suppressing my wolf rage, as I noticed there were three whole people in front of me. They were fake Subway fans, not proteinmaxxers like me. This line according to others would be long, but to me it was average, short even, but it still triggered my primal instincts. The hunt had just begun.

I shuffled into line, not skipping anyone because that was wrong. I was keeping calm, but two entire minutes had passed by, and it still wasn't my turn to order. The worker was yapmaxxing at the frustrated customer in front of me. He was actually kind of cute. If he was a grill, he'd totally be my type, like the grill (female) I kept seeing in my dreams. He either had slicked back hair or was just super sweaty. Like I said, a cutie patootie if you put the Snapchat girl filter on him. Despite his cutie, slimy nature, this wait was unacceptable, and the growling wolf inside me couldn't be held back for much longer. I put on my big boy pants (I was being so brave) and demanded to speak to the manager. I wish Alfredo were here to speak for me since I had social anxiety UWU.

"WHO DO I HAVE TO SPEAK TO TO GET A SANDWICH AROUND HERE? UM, Manager Pleaseeeeeeee!"

The kitchen door swung open. Out sauntered lil. Sheldon. It was his name. I knew this because I read his name tag. Through some investigative deduction and observational observance, I was able to conclude that the man wearing the name tag that said Sheldon was, in fact, named Sheldon. I rewarded myself with a hearty pat on the back and planned on adding a footlong cookie to my order. To me, it was average, honestly small even. As we knew, it wasn't the size of the wave that mattered, it was the motion of the ocean.