Origin- Mark 2

Chapter 4- Oh, How I Love the Internet

I picked at Mum’s stew that night with little interest. I thought Mums were supposed to be good with cooking.

‘How’s the stew, my little Shrew?’ She asked.

‘It’s delicious’ I lied, mouth full of gristle and fatty gravy dribbling down my chin.

‘Good, good’ she chuckled and pinched my cheek before waddling out of the kitchen. Her wobbling bottom knocked a vase to the floor for the hundredth time.

I just sighed and pushed my bowl away.

‘Are you… Are you gonna eat that?’ Marco asked.

I shook my head and sighed again. Marco grinned, shoveling his own stew into his greasy mouth whilst reaching a fat hand out for mine.

‘OO MI MA MIGGY MOOOooo?’ EW, those chins wobbled like they had a mind of their own.

‘It’s not polite to speak with your mouth full.’

Marco nodded and held up his hand as he chewed his ambitious mouthful and swallowed. A few minutes ticked by.

‘How did the thingy go?’ He asked.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Oh okay. Hey, guess what I got an A in-‘

‘I mean, I spent half an hour in a lunatic asylum- TALKING to a lunatic, with some Russian Brad Pitt breathing down my neck. I was put RIGHT out of comfort zone. Then this girl starts telling me the story I need to write about so I can get my promotion, and- and she flipping well kicks me out half way through!’ I huffed and looked down, ‘You were saying?’

‘Guess who got an A in-‘

‘Besides, that story was utter… Utter… CORNED BEEF!’ I growled, clenching my fists.

‘Yeah,’ Marco licked his lips, ‘so I got an A in-‘

‘Now I have to look everything else up on the internet! I’m gonna be fired! I’m gonna be Chi Wawa food!’

Marco was on the verge of tears, ‘I got an A in-‘

‘What, P.E?’ I laughed.

‘I got an A in Maths, dammit, Stanley.’ Marco slammed his meaty hand on the table.

‘Shrew, be nice to Polo!’ Mum yelled from the living room. Yeah, she has adorable nicknames for both of us- Little Shrew and Marco Polo.

‘ROUND as a polo’ I muttered.

‘WAZZAT?’ Marco yowled.

‘Nothing’

‘I don’t have to take this’ Marco got up and stomped off to the freezer. He reappeared with a new tub of Neapolitan ice cream and a table spoon. Yeah, that would show me.

I tutted and turned my head as Marco glared through indignant tears at me, eating the vanilla and chocolate strips straight from the tub.

The strawberry is such a waste of ice cream. I am surprised the makers have not yet realized that it is the worst flavour and they should be ashamed of themselves for tainting perfectly good junk food with fruit.

‘I mean, have you ever heard of a girl being accused of burning down her school, getting Psycho carved into an arm and ultimately winding up in a mental asylum?

Marco’s watery eyes widened, ‘You mean the Carmen Blakely case?’

‘Yup, why, do you know anything about it?’

‘It happened at my old school, remember? It’s why I had to go to a new school. It also inspired me to be a fireman when I’m older.’ He dug the spoon into the tub yet again.