Oh my god, what am I doing? I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop myself. IT'S POOR PAUL LMAO. Catagories are tricky. But for people who don't know, which is most likely everyone ever, Poor Paul is a webshow that is amazing and very inappropriate and Kendall sings a bunch of songs for it (like little filler songs) and the theme song which is All That Really Matters and it's really funny because a bunch of the actors were in Princess Protection Program (the Disney Channel movie) and then Poor Paul is full of sex and cussing and it's like the exact opposite of Disney and I just think that's funny. BUT KEVIN'S IN IT AHAHA -dies- and Kendall's in the Christmas episode for like two seconds and he's also an extra in other places and I spaz out whenever I see him lmao. But uh, Poor Paul is amazing and everyone should go watch it even though sometimes it can be weird and lame I still love it lol.
This is somewhere between Wes' appearance as Clyde and Justin's decision to move out, obviously. Because I was sad when Justin left so I put him in here. And I miss tall Clyde but I kind of like Wes better. -sob-
THIS IS THE ONLY POOR PAUL FANFICTION I WILL EVER BE WRITING LMAO. Besides being totally ridiculous, it has not material to work with lol and this is really all I could come up with. Not like I was planning this. It popped into my head the night after I spent all day watching every single episode ahaha. I should have put something about that chick Bonnie's roommate girl. AND WHAT'SHISFACE SANDY LOL
"This is boring," Clyde comments dully from next to me on the couch for the billionth time, making me roll my eyes for the billionth time. I don't respond, continuing to just sit still with my eyes glued to the television screen. He fidgets and gives an exaggerated groan. After another minute of what he thinks is subtle dropping of hints, he finally sighs sharply and slaps his hand on his thigh. "Paul, goddammit, this is boring."
"Shut up, Clyde; it's my night to choose what channel we watch, and I want to watch this." I keep my eyes on the screen the whole time, my voice at a low dead pan mumble.
"But I don't wanna watch the news!" he whines, shoving obnoxiously at my shoulder. "I'm horny and I wanna watch HBO!" When I ignore him he whines again, "C'mon, Paul, I'm so fucking horny!"
"Go fuck a girl," I suggest dully, slightly irate.
"Then I'd have to leave!" he complains. "Come on, just for like ten minutes. Do a guy a favor."
"A favor?" I turn to him incredulously. "Do you know how many 'favors' I've done for you? Like, I don't know, all those times I slept on the couch so you could have the room to yourself, and when you make me wash your laundry, and-"
"And what about all my favors I did for you?" he cuts in. "Like how about when I helped you pay rent, and-"
"You never helped me pay rent!" I cry angrily, finally turning to face him. "You made me pay half of yours! Patricia loaned me money, and I didn't even..." I trail off at the glare he gives me at the mention of my sister's name. Heaving an irritated sigh, I turn back to the T.V. and cross my arms tightly over my chest. The thick silence only lasts about ten seconds before he speaks up again.
"You still owe me for my bike," he states simply, eyes mirroring mine, glued to the screen blankly. I press both palms into my eyes so hard I see exploding stars.
"Dude, don't even go there."
My voice is hard and threatening and silence ensues. The woman on the T.V. is going on about some drug dealer finally getting arrested after months of selling magic mushrooms to unsuspecting middle schoolers, which makes me feel even worse. I swear, if Clyde says one more thing, I'm gonna punch him in the face. Yeah, I can see it now.
Dark room, one light. Coming from the television screen. Dull, thin voices, voices that don't even matter. I'm waiting. The suspense, building, just watching for it, waiting, waiting, wai-
"Paul-"
It's the only word he gets out before I'm on him, fists connecting solidly with his face. It's satisfying. I beat him bloody, the sound of his nose cracking ringing over and over in my ears. He yells at me to stop, tries to get me off, but I'm too much for him. It's an adrenaline rush, and it's elating. I feel like I'm on top of the world. I win. Dominate.
When I finally stop his face is already swelling up, eye forcing closed, nose gushing blood. He's so powerless, and I chuckle slightly.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Clyde?" I murmur condescendingly, staring down at him victoriously. He matches my gaze before breaking it and turning his head to the side to spit out a bloody tooth. When he turns back to me, he blinks, swallows, and opens his mouth.
"You're just scared, aren't you?"
"Wh- Come again?"
"I said you're a pussy." That snaps me back to reality, and I tear my eyes from listlessly watching the television screen to staring blankly at him.
"What?" It's more like a statement than a question, or the kind of "What?" that really means, "I cannot believe you just fucking said that."
"You." He points to me. "Are a pussy." He sits back and crosses his arms, staring at me with a stupid self-satisfied grin and a raised eyebrow.
"What the fuck, no." He just grins wider and shakes his head.
"Poor little Paul, too scared to get anywhere near sex," he coos mockingly, lips curling at the corners. "Can't take a little HBO, probably never watched porn in his life." He reaches over to pinch my cheek and I swat him away, turning back to face the screen stubbornly. I'm not going to listen to him. I'm not. He'll leave me alone if I just ignore him.
"I bet that's why you didn't get the Adult Emporium job, right?"
Something snaps inside me but I ignore it, grinding my teeth together instead. He chuckles breathlessly and ruffles my hair in amusement, and I duck away, scooting to the opposite side of the couch.
"What's wrong, Paul? The intimacy too much for you?" He suddenly leaps over and starts rubbing himself all over me, making a show of humping my side, letting out all these exaggerated fake noises.
"F- Goddammit, Clyde, get the fuck off me!" I try fruitlessly to shove him away, but he doesn't let up, yelling retarded things I hear from him every night when he brings home some stupid ho.
"Aw, come on, Paul," he chides breathlessly. "Can't handle a little action? Can't take a little of this?" He groans loudly and totally smothers me, ignoring my frantic cries for him to get off. "Oh god, Paul, you're so good, fuck yeah, god!"
"Holy fuck, Clyde, get off!"
"I'm trying!" he whines, his act breaking up as he starts laughing in between fake moans. I finally manage to shove him off to the other side of the couch, and he falls back, cracking up with his hand to his mouth.
"How was that, honey?" he gets out through fits of uncontrolled laughter.
"God, I hate you," I reply, putting a hand over my eyes, thumb on one temple, forefinger on the other. I really do. Someday I'll beat him up for real. Just not today.
Sighing, I take my hand down and open my eyes to watch the T.V. again. I really don't know why I'm watching the news. I guess there was just nothing on that I wanted to watch. I could've just given the T.V. to Clyde if he wanted it so bad, but it's my night, and I'm not giving it up for anything. It's not like they're gonna give me another chance when my show is really on. And besides, if Clyde wants to jack off so bad, he can go use the computer or something. Well, maybe I shouldn't suggest that, because then he'll just use my laptop...
Speaking of Clyde jacking off.
I glance over and immediately wish I hadn't. Groaning and putting a hand over my face as I attempt (and fail) to rid my poor mind of the image of Clyde pulling his dick out of his pants, I gesture with my free hand to him and demand in exasperation, "Clyde, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Getting off," he replies cheerily, shifting a bit next to me. When did he even get that close again? Jesus, I hate Clyde.
"Right next to me?" I groan in a "really?" tone.
"Mhmm," he hums, a bit strained. For some reason only God knows, I take my hand back and open my eyes. He's got his jeans and boxers down to about mid-thigh, and I am never sitting on that side of the couch again, and is stroking his cock fully up and down, eyebrows furrowed slightly, teeth sunken into his bottom lip. I close my eyes again and lean my head back against the wall behind me.
"Goddammit, Clyde," I mutter under my breath, speaking up more loudly, "Where's the jizz gonna go?" in a light "you can figure it out" tone.
"All over you, bitch," he responds, groaning slightly in the back of his throat. I start repeatedly hitting my head back against the wall, each thud further antagonizing me. I keep doing it, though, 'cause maybe I'll get a concussion or amnesia or something and then have to go live at the hospital and not here and there will be no rent and no horrible roommates and everyone will feel bad and come and visit, and bring me stuff... and girls will come...
Before that can go anywhere, Clyde's voice cuts through, demolishing any fantasy that might have been about to happen.
"Shut it, little bitch. 'M trying to concentrate." That's it.
"Look, if you want quiet so bad, why don't you just go do that in your room?" I snap, glaring at his stupid sex face. He frowns and I try not to let my eyes stray to places I don't need them to be looking.
"Then I'd have to get up, I already told you. If it's bothering you so much, why don't you leave?"
"That's gonna happen." I shake my head incredulously and sigh irately. I seriously can't believe him right now. I mean, this is a new low, even for him. I hope he accidently castrates himself. Of course it's possible to castrate yourself while masturbating. It's the third most common cause of death in guys who are assholes. A.K.A. Clyde.
"Why don't you just help me to make it go faster?"
I almost start choking on my spit.
"Clyde?"
"Mm- What?"
"Fuck you."
"I'm serious!" he scoffs. "If you really want me to stop, then just help me and get it over with faster."
"Oh my god- that is the gayest thing I think I have ever heard you say. Other than all those things you said about Patricia."
"Hey, you shut up about Patricia!" he yells angrily, and I finally turn to face him, rolling my eyes animatedly. Before I can say anything, though, I hear a door open and we both turn to see who it is.
Justin walks into the room, looking disheveled and like he just woke up. From an evening nap or something. He immediately halts when he sees us, though, me practically in Clyde's face and him still jerking off. His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth twitches slightly.
"Woah, guys, you could've told me." He turns to head back into his room, and I don't even try to explain myself. Clyde busts up laughing, slapping the back of my head.
"Justin thinks you're gay!" he sings, and I jerk away from him, rubbing the back of my head.
"You too," I mutter, angry and slightly dejected. I hate him.
"Dude, I come home with a girl every night. You, on the other hand..."
"You're the worst," I snap decisively, standing abruptly and making my way to the bathroom to shower. I'm not even out of the room when I hear him grab the remote and change it to HBO. I make sure to slam the door behind me. I can't even find anything optimistic to say about this. There's only one thing I can think of right now, and it's this:
I hate my life.
POOR PAUL LMAO. So there it is. Sorry it sucks. I wasn't trying lol. EVERONE SHOULD GO LISTEN TO ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS AND ALL OF HEFFRON DRIVE'S STUFF. I CAME UP WITH MY NEW ADDRESS AND IT IS 429 S. HEFFRON DRIVE BURBANK, CALIFORNIA. EVEN THOUGH HEFFRON DRIVE GOES WEST. I DON'T CARE IT'S MY ADDRESS. I'm totally obsessed with Heffron Drive in case you couldn't tell. Go listen to it right now. Dustin is the win.
ALSO the new episode scarred me for life. I DON'T CARE HOW HARD YOU TRY BITTERS YOU ARE NOT SEXY UGH. -barfs- But the rest of it was amazing. Like Gustavo's vision where Kendall's a skyscraper and Logan's a taxi cab. IT WAS AMAZING. And you know what, what messages are they trying to send to little kids about those soap suds all over Bitters anyway? BITTERS IS GAY HE'S TRYING TO SNEAK HIS WAY INTO THE LITTLE LOVE TRIANGLE GUSTAVO, GRIFFIN AND KENDALL HAVE GOING ON. BUT THAT'S NOT EVEN A TRIANGLE ANYMORE BECAUSE JAMES AND JO ARE IN THERE TOO SOMEWHERE AND I'M PRETTY SURE LOGAN WANTS TO GET IN ON THE RAPEAGE TOO. SO I DON'T KNOW. I'LL SHUT UP NOW. PLEASE REVIEW MY BEAUTIFUL STORY. WATCH POOR PAUL. LISTEN TO HEFFRON DRIVE. PEACE OUT.