Rebellious

5. Psychotic Weirdos And Death Penalties

When I finally got home, I was exhausted. Today was definitely not the the best of days and I was physically, emotionally and mentally shattered. Sleep sounded good, it doesn't matter if its only eight o'clock. My bed sounded like the best thing since the discovery of fire.

Hopping out of my teeny car, I started the long and seemingly unending trek up the short driveway to my house. As I was walking, I noticed both Carl and Jenny's cars were there as well.

Good, they can make me a sandwich.

Trudging up to the front door, I took a moment to stop and appreciate the house I was currently living in.

The massive two story house seem to be looking right back at me with those ridiculously oversized windows, pink velvet curtains lining the inside of the lower level windows. Courtesy of Jenny. The well trimmed garden out the front with flowers flourishing near the small picket fence made out little garden to adorable. Jenny also wants a fountain installed but Carl and I have come to the mutual agreement that is that happens, we will smash it into oblivion during the night and blame it on someone attempting to 'rob' us.

Keepin' it classy, I know.

I have to admit, I love living here. Carl and Jenny are bonkers and keep you entertained.

Alright, little nostalgic and extremely cliche moment over, moving on.

Hey house!

Continuing my little march up the steps to the large, tacky red door, I awkwardly threw my arm up in the hopes it would land on the handle. Laziness is a disease. After two more failed attempts, I finally caught the handle and leaned my entire body forward and opened the door.

As the door swung open, I straightened myself to stop my body before it decides to do a gravity check. Lifting my head up, I look about the warm and welcoming front hall. Seeing both Carl and Jenny's coats hanging up and there car keys in the little bowl, I walked further in and dropped my keys in alongside theirs.

"Yo! Guess who got a sick deal for the weed this mornin'! They was like 'gimme yo shiz' and I was like, 'nah bro, gimme yo mon-ay!' Know wha' I'm sayin'!" I shout.

"Aw, no waaaaay! I hit my homies, and they were like, 'pop snizzle to da dizzle, dawg!' and we got all up in da club, know wha' I'm sayin'." I heard Carl shout back from the living room so I start walking that direction.

I walk in and see Carl lying on the couch so I take the other comfy chair. The white walls and colourful decoration and furniture mix surprisingly well together. Multicolored sofa, pink curtains, blue clock and the few green strips on the wall would normally clash but Jenny arranged it all in an skillfully stylish way and it honestly doesn't look as tacky as it sounds.

I always ask Carl why he let Jenny decorate the house and he always shrugs and gives the same answer. ‘As long as it makes her happy, I don't care.‘

And then he would get this creepy grin and try to add in a comment about how good the reward was, and I would cut him off shouting about how he should keep it PG13 while covering my ears to block him out. Ew.

"Pop snizzle to da dizzle? And I thought it was bad when I mentioned weed to the cop. What the hell does that even mean?!" I ask.

"I have no idea, but that's what the 'cool kids' say apparently. And I'm not kidding, this one time, I was trying to scare these kids and one of them actually said that. No joke, I-" Carl has recently started to use modern slang, courtesyof moi.

While he was in the middle of explaining the story, I heard footsteps in the hallway and turned to face the door. 3...2...1...

"Yo, ma bitches! Sup." Jenny sauntered in, taking part in our little exchange.