Bouquets of Laughter

Chapter 1: Pickles

A/N: Fresh and unedited :^) excuse the typos

Told in the POV of Sahara Northair

The hot chocolate is brewing, lights are twinkling, and carols are playing. It's that beautiful time of the year of joy and laughter! Yep, it's definitely the Christmas time.

I'm currently in a large mansion with chattering adults and giggling children. Stockings are stuffed and the appetizers just keep coming! Not to mention that the fireplace is crackalackin, the mistletoe has been dispersed, and the stars look dashing tonight.

Speaking of mistletoe, I've been standing under this damn thing for about an hour and nobody has come forth besides a bunch of spaghetti-covered minions.

I know it's almost Christmas, but honestly I just wanna lock some lips with some handsome stranger. Maybe even some dude named Alexander. Yeah, I think I could kiss an Alexander.

Giving the greatest sigh that could've ever sighed in all sighing history, I sigh. I decide I'm going walk back to the dining area to pluck some grapes and yeehaw my ass to some red wine. Before I could even take a step, a strong hand grasps my wrist.

Could this be it? Could this finally be it?

I turn around, hoping that I just might see my soulmate who will kiss me under the damn plant.

Surprise, surprise! It really is!

My crush from school is holding my hand! It was none other than Richie Hostman, the cutiepie of all things pie. He is just so adorable I could EAT him! Well, not really because that's cannibalism and that's gross. But he can eat me anytime (WINK WUNK).

"R-Richie?" I say, stuttering upon his name.

"Uh, yeah, can you open this jar of pickles for me?"

"What?"

He thrusts his jar of pickles at me.

"Oh, uh...yeah, sure," I mumble, whilst grabbing his big pickle jar. I pop the cap off and hand it back to him.

"Thanks," he says. He smiles, turns on his heelies, and rolls away.

I sigh again. That was supposed to be magical a moment, not a cap-popping moment. Making my way down to the kitchen, I can't help but wonder why Richie has heelies on. But then again, why not? As I waltz into the kitchen, three screaming children run out. I look into the kitchen and there he is in all his glory: Dasani Vivitar.

Dasani Vivitar is what one would call a "bad boy." Unless you're me, because I know Dasani is anything but.

"Hey Dani," I say with a smirk on my face, "whatcha doin' there?"

His back is towards me as he leans into the sink. I have no doubt he's doing something suspicious.

"Oh hey Sahara! I'm uh, just, eating grapes."

"At the sink?"

"Yepper peppers."

I cross my arms and raise a brow, "Oh really? Well, I'd like some grapes, too. Willing to share?"

I advance towards him, but he quickly turns around and defends the sink.

His "nipples" are looking...extended.

"Don't come near me," he yells.

I retreat back to square one and cringe. "What the hell is up with your nipples Dani?!"

He glances at his shirt and quickly discards the double-stacked niplets. Two grapes fall out of his shirt and roll onto the floor. One of the grapes touches the tip of my shoe. More cringe.

"That was," he tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"I don't think I wanna know," I say slowly, "I honestly really don't wanna know why you were imitating torpedo titties with grapes. Really."

While he is speechless, I quickly dash to the sink to see what he's hiding. Inside was a brown, coiling, wriggling, squimish snake.

"SNAKE! SNAAKE!" I scream. I am muffled by Dani's sweaty hand.

"Shut up Sahara! You can't let everyone know! They'll freak!" he whispers/yells.

I shove him off and distance myself away from the sink. I close the kitchen door and I grab a fork. If that snake pops out I am not going to die. "Dani why the hell is there a snake in the sink?" I ask. He shrugs his shoulders and says, "Well, I was on the toilet, did my business, and when I stood up; there he was lurking right behind the toilet, totally checking out my package."

"What? Dani, no, snakes don't--"

"Yeah, it must've thought my ding was a snake-buddy," he continues, "but he thought wrong."

"Dani--"

"What if my ding is a snake whisperer?"

"Shut--"

"If I play Hot Cross Buns with a recorder and shake my ding around do you think I can hypnotize the snake into leaving?"

To throw the fork or to not to throw the fork is the true question. Maybe I should chuck it at his so-called "snake whisperer."

Before Dani could say another vile sentence, a party-guest walks in. Her heels click and clack as she stumbles her way to the graham crackers. Dani and I are completely frozen and pray that the slightly-drunk guest did not want to wash her hands. Or her crackers.

Fortunately, she doesn't. She walks out with a plate of dry crackers and moist pepperoni.

As soon as she does, we both give out a heavy sigh of relief. This day has just been full of sighing.

"We've got to do something about that big snake of yours," I say, highly concerned.

Dani grows a smirk on his face. "That's what she--"

x-x-x-x

TO BE CONTINUED LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND ALIENS! SEE YA IN THE NEXT CHAPTER

what ever will she do with his big snake :o

"Forgive me Father for I have sinny sin sinned." - moobuttt on Tumblr. 2016.

♡ names are just names and any coincidences are just coincidences ♡

Published 12-24-16