"Good morning kiddos!" Amy screeched, walking into the kitchen. "And Bob." She sighed. He was acting weird lately. None of the children had looked up from their devices as their mother entered. PJ was on musical.ly, sadly, Gabe was updating his Snapchat story, and Teddy was teaching Charlie how to use Instagram. Gotta start young.
"Gabe, stop throwing gang signs at your phone please." Bob said. He glared at his wife while her back was turned. Soon, he thought. He could feel the fires of hell licking at his feet as heaven's light shone upon his naked scalp.
"Sorry team, gotta show 'em I'm a G. And didn't I tell you to call me Lil Peepee from now on?" Bob was the only member of Lil Peepee's legal team. He was supposed to act as a lawyer, but really he was just a lowly exterminator. Maybe his bug stories would distract judges and juries from Lil Peepee's stupidity. He was a SoundCloud rapper, after all.
Bob turned his head suddenly, so quickly he should've snapped his own fucking neck. His eyes began to glow pure white as his feet rose off the floor. He stared down at Amy and mumbled in Latin, his voice becoming rough and gravelly. "Et abierunt, thot, cohors cohors..."
Light shone brightly behind Bob's bald head, his scalp glistening as he repeated those words, slowly getting louder. The light reflecting off of his head quickly blinded Amy, and with a thunderous clap from Bob she fell to the ground, dead.
When all had settled and Bob was back on the ground, PJ looked away from musical.ly to see Amy. He cackled, "gang gang gang dumb thottie get slain!" Lil Peepee quickly put that in his notes - song lyrics.
YOU ARE READING
You Better Fuckin Hang In There
Historical FictionThe evolution of the Duncans; the family in 2018 and beyond. *This series shall end on the last second of earth's final eon as humanity bids farewell to its existence, my fic read aloud over speakers implanted throughout villages and cities alike al...
