Do You Mind If I Fly?

John: Wake up

I always disliked humanstuck what even happened

You open your eyes groggily, flinching as solar light slams itself on your pillow like John Cena slams his adversaries on the ring.

Your name is John Egbert (and not something silly like Zoosmell Pooplord, or Johnatan Eveline Elizabeth Sophie Egderp, like one of your friends is prone to call you), and you just woke up, for the first time in your life as a teenager, since today, the 14th of April, is your thirteenth birthday. You are not, however, thinking about beta games, or about your hate towards cakes, or about the trolls that annoy the heck out of you, since no beta game you or your friends are aware of came out lately, Betty Crocker hasn't done anything to you to deserve your hate (altough, you must admit, her sweets are really not that great), and no troll, figurate or literal, has ever harassed you.

You have a nice, normal life, without aliens, doomsdays, sylladexes and such. You suddenly wonder what a sylladex would be, if such a thing actually existed. Which it doesn't. You reason that, being the name so awesome and epic, it would be something equally awesome and epic, perhaps something out of a sci-fi movie.

Your mind comes back to Earth as a delicious smell of baked goods makes its way inside your nostrils. Yum.

Your father (who is not your half brother, haha what?) enters into your room, carrying what probably is the biggest strawberry cake you've seen in your life, not counting that monstruosity you two made when he first tried to teach you baking.

That didn't end well.

You still can find flakes of pink frosting in your clothes, sometimes.

"Morning John. Did I wake you up?" Grins your father, showing the perfect dentature you envy so, so much.

"If your name is 'Sun', then yes, you did" you groan, stretching the kinks out of your back.

He chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. "Whenever you're ready to grace us with your presence come down. Me and Nanna are in the kitchen."

You stretch a bit more as he exits your room, making a beeline for the computer as soon as you feel the drowsiness fading enough to stand without the aid of somebody ready to avoid you ending up lying belly down on the floor.

-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 8:30 --

GT: hey dave!
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Dave's been your best bro ever since you were ten years old. You met on this internet chat, called Pesterchum, and then met in person when he and his older brother moved from Texas to Seattle.

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TG: sup man

TG: happy crawling out of yo mommas thingy day
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Did you mention it?

Dave is an idiot.

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GT: ewww dave!

GT: gross!

GT: what happened to the good, old "happy birthday"?

TG: its sad

TG: you still cant understand the power of my irony

TG: my bro did tell me

TG: no dave dont even try

TG: that egderp kid is too much of a dork

TG: youll just waste your time

TG: why didnt i listen to him

TG: he was so right man

TG: so rigt

GT: that typo at the end ruined all your speech. :B

TG: the keyboard aint cool enough for me