That's Fucked Up

Oops.

"Haz, where's the baby?" Louis asked his partner, Harry, of 3 years now.

"In her high chair." Harry mumbled sleepily. 'It is too damn early for this' he thought as Lou pulled him out of their comfortable bed at 7:30.

"No she's not, just a bottle of milk." Louis says confused.

"Yes she is, I put her there after I got the milk out."

"Well then were is she?"

"The hell if I know." Harry says closing his eyes and putting his head down on the table.

Both men's heads flick towards the refrigerator when they hear faint crying coming from it Louis rushed over to the refrigerator before yanking it open and grabbing their 83 week old baby girl.

"Hazza!" Lou snapped. "That is the third time this week you've misplaced Copeland, and I'm sick of it! Until you've learned responsibly, you can no longer have the d."

Hazza being the thirsty bitch he is gets pissed.

"You can't ban me from what's rightfully mine!" Harry snaps, not even worried about Lou's d. He's bi.

No, what he's worried about is his favorite pair of boxers (black with the phrase 'are you nasty?' on the back) that his boyfriend constantly steals.

"Rightfully yours? I belong to no one but myself! Or Pete Wentz. I'd be his bitch any day." Louis says offended.

"Don't be so full of yourself, I meant my boxers." Louis' jaw dropped.

"How could you say that? After all we went through. We broke MCR up, we cut Zayn out of our old band, we made most of the members if p!atd drop out, except for forehead, we even stole this baby from the Quinn's for god sakes!" Louis exclaimed.

"Haha, and don't forget the time we gave that band People Over Fresh Democrats or something like that a record deal as a joke. God, they were terrible." Harry adds.

"Good times. Hey, why don't I just set Copeland down in the blender for a short nap while we get it on?" Lou suggests, accidentally mashing a button. Oops.

"You read my mind, babe. Let's go."

So Hazza and Lou are on good terms once again, with one less family member.

The end.