Jena POV
Why hello there miserable peasants. Oh wait, those are Jackson's lines. Dang it, I have messed up once again. The first time, it was making this story while I was feeling a little bit giddy after eating blueberries with my nose. This time, I've really done it. I've made over ten chapters. This is the eleventeenth chapter, and I have messed up the first sentence. You poor readers deserve better than reading about Rijul playing with his balls and even better...I mean worse, imagining it. Looks like I messed up again, it is not fun to watch Rijul play with his balls. I have not personally seen him do it up close of course. I do know that he likes to hit them hard. Oh, I've just been informed by my secretary, Barry B. Benson that I have to dash now. He's just always so quick to get somewhere, it almost seems like he could literally fly there.
I have just been informed again, but this time by my editor (who has edited out his own name), that I should have specified what kind of balls. I meant, tennis balls. I trust that surely you thought of fuzzy lime green spherical objects and not bowling balls. Thankfully my editor told me that readers could get confused with what type of balls. Now that I've clarified, hopefully you're not thinking of bowling balls, but rather fuzzy lime green tennis balls.
Sorry, I have to go now, Barry B. Benson told me that he hasn't gotten all day and that he's got a date soon with a woman "so hot she could be a different species". I almost fired him because I was never called hot, not that I liked Barry B. Benson anyway. He's always wearing the same stupid black and yellow sweatshirt, sometimes he would live on the edge and wear yellow and black.
YOU ARE READING
STAHP
HumorA group of youngsters come together to create "STAHP", although some of the chapters were written without their consent and without them knowing at all. A book filled with color and personality although all you see is text, a screen, and Wattpad's n...
