Hallo, loves! Welcome to another edition of some crazy crap I wrote at 6:00am!
Yaaaaay!
Welcome to stories I've suppressed for years, somehow all havig to do with Iggy. . . .
strange. . .
And. Psssh, of course don't own Maximum Ride!
The Insane Adventures of Iggy. . .
Iggy's POV
I sat in Dr. Martinez—or 'Mom,' as we called her now—'s kitchen, and lazily opened the fridge. The rest of the flock and Ella were getting home now—they'd e hungry. I found some strawberries in the fridge, and, being in a lazy mood that day, just chopped them up and put whipped ream on them. I thought about what they'd think about that, so I grabbed a store-bought Angel's Food cake out of the fridge and sliced a piece in each bowl.
"There," I said contently, "a lazy meal for a lazy man." And with that, I grabbed a bowl and retreated to my room.
'I—Iggy!' Angel shouted in my mind
'What? Are you alright?'
"Iggy! Help! They ambushed us- it—the—'
Her thought cut off there.
'Angel! ANGEL! Where are you at? Angel!'
She thought-murmured the location and I flew there as fast as I could.
And. . . I winded up lost.
I know this is no time to be mean, but—yeeaaaah, send the blind guy to an address he doesn't know of. I didn't even get to finish my strawberries!
"Angel! Max!" I yelled into the nothing ness.
I heard a snort of laughter in my mind.
"Hey Ig, what's up?" Angel said, almost laughing in her mind
'What, Angel? What's so funny? Are you alright?"
"YES we're alright, you dope. We never thought you'd fall for it.
"Wh—what?'
"We pulled a prank on you Iggy.
'How Rude. Come find me, I'm lost.
Find your OWN way home, Iggy. And. . . We're eating your strawberries.
Noooo!!!
That—I believe—Is when the craziness began. I felt my way around what seemed to be a park when some lady came and said
"Do you need help, sonny?"
"No thanks, ma'am."
"Look at me when I talk to you, it's polite."
I growled "I can't,"
"Are you suggesting I'm UGLY?" the woman said
"No- It's just I can't look at you," I said, touching something cool and metal. It felt yellow—it was a car.
"Howard, this boy thinks I'm ugly and that he can't look at me."
"Lady, I'm telling you—"
"I'm not a lady." A deep voice growled/
"I-I—" I sputtered.
"Man, this kid is just insulting everyone!" I heard the grass crunch as the old lady stepped forward. She swung her purse a tme.
"Ow!" I said. She swung at me again, and again, and again.
"Miss," hit "I'm," smack "please" swing.
That is about when I had enough. I grabbed the purse, threw it as hard as I could which, was pretty hard.
"it's pretty impolite," I spat, "to hit blind kid for saying he can't look at you."
"Oh, dearie, I'm so sorry,"
"No!" I said, heading into the nearest forest and up-up and away-ing.
Gosh, Iggy. Pretty harsh, yelling at an old lady.
LOL. At least 10 reviews for next chapter! Get those fingers typing, people, I need materials!